#michael x gallant

[saintlucretia]

Devil Wears a Suit

part Ⅱ

Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Mention of murder, Sexual harassment?, Explicit content, Curse words, Hot devil's son, Not proofread.

A/N: I tried my best, hope you enjoy.

A long night passed and the morning came. Well, if you can trust the clock. There were no windows at the Outpost for sunlight to penetrate the room, although even if there were some, it would not matter since after the bombs the sun disappeared behind a thick wall of fog. Fog of death.

I woke up with chills and sweat. Something haunted my dreams all night, making me shiver like a little lamb. Even though it was an unpleasant feeling, it added color to a pathetic parody of life that I have been having for the last 18 months.

Yesterday’s events bothered me. Moreover, they annoyed me. It was bright as day, that Langdon was messing with all of our minds, yet some part of my silly brain wanted me to believe that I was truly special. That he saw something, that no one else could.

I slowly walked to the bathroom. My bare feet touched the cold marble and I involuntarily shivered. I was tired. A mess. I washed my face and sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. Suddenly I noticed a motion somewhere behind, I turned my head and flinched. Snakes. They were crawling from the bath. Devilish creatures hissed showing me their poisonous fangs. I quickly ran out of the bathroom shutting the door behind me. What the hell? I caught my breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Are there snakes in my bathroom? I felt like I was going insane. Something cold touched my feet. Snakes. I jumped on the bed with a gasp. My closet and floor near it were full of them. They swarmed, intertwining with each other. Dozens of snakes. The other second I was already at the door, running to the hallway. Still barefoot in a white Victorian nightgown that Ms. Venable made us wear. I backed away from the room door and my back hit something soft. I turned around quickly, facing Michael Langdon's piercing blue eyes.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, preventing me from falling.

I stared at him for about a minute before words rolled out of my mouth.

“Snakes. There are snakes in my room.” My voice was hoarse, my fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket.

He was clearly amused by my state, studying my expression. Langdon chuckled, "Oh, really? Snakes, you say?" His eyes shone with a sly glint. I watched as he pushed me aside and glanced toward the room I had just run from.  

"May I?" he asked, and entered the room without waiting for my reply. I slowly followed him. To my horror, as we entered I saw nothing. Snakes were gone. Impossible.

“They were here. I swear to God they were here.” I mumbled looking around the room.

I noticed Langdon’s face contorted in hostility. 

“Don’t say such stupid words, Ms. Y/S. It’s unnecessary here.” 

I closed my face with my hands and sighed. Considering my appearance and edgy state, I totally looked like a mad woman. Nobody believes a mad woman.

“I believe you,” Langdon said, approaching me as if he read my thoughts. “Strange things sometimes happen. But it’s just… interesting that it happened in your room.” 

"What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my eyebrows, my gaze searching his face.

“You probably know that snakes have always been representing sin. It’s their main dignity. Servants of darkness… if you believe in symbols, of course.”

I let his words sink in briefly, my gaze drifting to the ground lost in thought. Snakes… sin… Snakes slithering in the garden of Eden… temptress Eve... I understood where he was going.

I huffed at that, scoffing. "Is that your way of calling me sinful? A corrupted soul? Please, spare me the Bible lessons."

Langdon raised an eyebrow at my comment, a playful smirk on his lips. 

"Oh, I'm not calling you sinful," he said, leaning against the nearby wall, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe. “But as you said it… it would be amusing to see you getting corrupted.”

I rolled my eyes. "Then what are you calling me?" I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of irritation. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to regain some composure.

Langdon chuckled at my defensive stance. His eyes gleamed with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly approached me.

"Are you always so feisty in the mornings?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I gulped as he came closer, a mix of annoyance and something else stirring inside me. His intense gaze made me feel cornered and yet, strangely… excited? My breath hitched as he was now standing directly in front of me, the space between us barely existent.

He raised his hand, a single finger tracing an invisible line down my cheek. "Or is it just my presence that gets you going?" he murmured, his voice dripping like honey.

The touch of his fingertip felt like a small electrical shock to my system. I tried to control my breathing, determined not to let him see me flustered.

"Your presence is hardly something exciting," I retorted, my voice a bit shaky. "It's more... irritating."

He smirked at my response. His finger trailed lower, down my jawline, and stopped at my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

“Well, as I recall it was you, who fell into my arms with fear, m?”

I hated how his words were effective. I hated how true they were. I hated myself for being so affected by his presence.

I tried to compose myself, my jaw clenched tightly. "I was just surprised," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but my heart was beating too hard for any nonchalance. “There were snakes all over the room.”

Langdon chuckled, his thumb left my face and he slowly started walking toward the door. 

"Indeed there were," he replied, casually leaning against the door frame. He seemed relaxed as if the topic was of no real importance.

I watched him for a moment, trying to decipher his nonchalant behavior. He was enjoying this, the way he was playing with me. The way he was playing with everyone. 

"Are you going to explain what happened here, or just act like it's normal for snakes to appear out of nowhere?" I asked, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.

Langdon chuckled at my question, that arrogant smirk never leaving his lips. "Isn't the mystery part of the thrill?" 

He walked out, closing the door behind me, leaving me again excited and annoyed. Silence engulfed the room after he left. I was left standing there, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind replaying the events that just occurred.

I sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge with a thump. The silence was deafening, the only sound being the steady beat of my heart. I couldn't shake off the feeling of… anticipation. Anticipation for the next time I would see him. That son of a bitch.

I quickly dressed up and went to the day room. We didn’t have breakfast there. We barely ate at all. Some kind of nutrition cube at lunch and water. Balanced diet. 

No one yet tried to break the rules of the house that Ms. Venable had set, so when I entered the room almost everyone was already there. Same people, same walls, same music. I was going insane.

I took my usual seat, the conversations around me blending into a dull murmur. I felt suffocated as if I was drowning in the monotony. All I could think about was the next part of the interview with a representative of the Cooperative. 

Sanctuary could be a lie, who can verify that? All this can be a way to manipulate us. Even Ms.Venable was afraid, she didn’t trust him but obeyed. We were a flock of sheep in a pen with a hungry wolf. 

I was lost in thought when I noticed someone settling into the seat beside me. I turned my head to see Mr. Gallant.

"You seem lost in thought," he noted, his voice soft. "Everything alright?"

“Yeah, just… had an unpleasant morning,” I answered shortly, not wanting to tell him anything. I replayed all morning and yesterday's events in my head again and felt anger in my body. It made my blood hotter. 

He had no time to answer, as Ms. Venable walked into the room. Her presence immediately silenced the conversations. Her expression was stern, and she scanned the room with a critical eye.

"Good morning," she began, her voice steady and authoritative. She leaned on her cane and raised her voice a bit. “Today we are having a special treat. Don’t be late for lunch.” She turned from us and slowly started walking away, her heels echoing through the walls.

“Oh, by the way,” she stopped for a second but hadn’t turned her head. “Ms. Y/N, Mr. Langdon is waiting for you in the interview room.” She said harshly as if his name was disgusting to her.

I could feel the eyes of the others on me as they turned their gazes in my direction. I stood up slowly, trying to seem unbothered.

The walk to the interview room seemed longer than usual, the silence only interrupted by my footsteps and my rapidly beating heart. I will beat this motherfucker.

I knocked on the door of his cabinet and entered. There he was, sitting on the table, as he was waiting for me in that position intentionally. His pose was casual but deliberate. His gaze met mine, a smirk on his lips.

"Ah, Ms. Y/N," he greeted, his tone mocking yet playful. "Sit down please." 

I tried to retain my composure, refusing to let him see any hint of my nervousness. I sat down in the chair opposite him, trying to maintain some distance, yet feeling the closeness of the cramped room.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steady but cold.

“Well, It’s the second part of your interview-” He began but I interrupted him. 

"Cut the act, Langdon.” I snapped, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “This psychotic bitch with her ridiculous rules is already sucking our blood, I don’t want another arrogant dick here, who thinks he can intimidate us. We both know this isn't a real interview. Even if Sanctuary is true, selection is just part of your manipulation." 

Langdon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh really?" He stood from the table and slowly started to circle me, like a shark circling wounded man in the water. I instinctively followed his movements with my eyes. "And why would I come to the Outpost then?" He stopped behind me, leaning closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I felt my breath hitch as he came closer, his breath sending a shiver through my body. I resisted the urge to lean away, instead sitting ramrod straight in my chair.  

"You tell me," I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of the unease I was feeling. He continued to circle me, his presence making the room feel even smaller.

Langdon chuckled at my response, his footsteps echoing around me as he completed his circle. He stopped in front of me. Smile gone.

“You are scared. It’s okay to be scared.” His calmness filled my mind with anger.

“I’m not.”

He smiled and leaned closer, resting his hands on the back of my chair, boxing me in with his arms.

“Of course you are,” he chuckled. His gaze fixed on mine. “And you should be.”

His arms on either side of my chair made me feel trapped. I could feel the power radiating from his body, and I had to fight the urge to lean back. I inhaled his smell, expensive cologne. Sweet, yet bitter, he smelled like dominance. It was hypnotic.

His chuckle was almost mocking as if he knew the effect he was having on me. I raised my chin defiantly.

"Why would I be scared of you?"  I retorted, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You are nothing more than the obedient dog of The Cooperative.”

As words rolled out my mouth, I almost immediately regretted saying them. His smirk faded, eyes flashed with irritation and something even worse. I felt fear scratching my heart.

"Careful," he warned, calmly. "I'd watch your tongue if I were you. You don’t want to lose it, do you?”

I swallowed hard, my bravado wavering under his intense gaze. His threat lingered in the air like a shadow, and I knew he meant it. 

"I'm not intimidated by your empty threats," I managed to say, without thinking. Dumb bitch.

Langdon chuckled darkly, and the sound made goosebumps rise on my skin. Before I could say anything, his hand shot out and wrapped around my throat, not really choking me, but just enough to be a warning.

"Empty threats?" he repeated, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You think I'm bluffing?" His grip tightened slightly, causing a gasp to escape my lips. I could feel my eyes widen in panic, but I tried to maintain a brave expression. “Tsk, tsk, I can already imagine how nice it would be to cut out that pretty tongue of yours.”

I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips at his threat. His grip on my throat was strong, constricting just enough to make me gasp for breath. 

"You... you wouldn't dare," I somehow managed to squeak out, my voice sounding weak and fearful. 

“Oh you think your pathetic life costs anything?” he leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “I could stab your stomach and rip out your little heart with my bare hand and no one could stop me.”

His words stung like a physical blow, and I felt my heart race in panic. He was deadly serious, looking at me like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please don't."

Langdon's hand tightened the grip around my throat. He smiled at my pleading, a cold, cruel smile. 

"Begging already?" he asked, his voice mocking. "And after you so bravely challenged me."

My hands scrambled to pull away his wrist, trying to loosen his tight grip on my throat. I couldn't speak, could barely gasp for air.

His smile widened at my futile struggle, he enjoyed playing. He leaned closer, his face inches away from mine. 

"This is what happens when you challenge someone with power," he murmured. "You get humbled."

I was unable to say a word, strangled by his hand, tears starting to well up in my eyes. The room started to spin, and my vision became disoriented.

“Still, have hesitation about my authority?” he asked, his tone almost soothing.

"N-no... no..." I managed to choke out.

His hand released its grip on my throat, allowing me to gasp for air. My body slumped against the chair, trembling uncontrollably. I took a moment to recover from his grip, my heart still pounding and my breath shaky. I felt smaller under his gaze, like a mouse trapped under the eye of a snake.

Langdon chuckled at my reaction, his eyes glinting with cruel enjoyment. "Pathetic," he said, the word dripping with derision. 

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and I knew he was relishing every moment of my humiliation.

Langdon reached out, his fingers gripping my chin tightly, forcing me to look at him. His touch was rough, a stark contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he spoke. 

"Now can you listen to me?"

I nodded weakly, my throat still sore from his assault. Langdon saw the fear in my eyes, and his smile widened at the sight.

"Good," he murmured, his hand slowly releasing my chin.

His gaze never left me, his eyes scrutinizing every reaction I made.

"You were smart enough to figure out the whole interview thing," he said, his tone casual yet calculating. "But you're not smart enough to know when to keep that pretty mouth shut." Langdon chuckled, a twisted sound that made me flinch. "Still, I appreciate the fire," he said. "Most of the other 'interviewees' are a little too... shallow, I’d prefer most of them dead by evening." 

His eyes never left mine, studying me intently. I tried to hide any emotion.

"They all tremble before the thought of going to The Sanctuary and willing to please me in any way. But you're…," he continued. "You're unfortunately not satisfied with just being an obedient pretty face. No, you have an attitude. And that, my dear, is your undoing."

“M’sorry.” I breathed out quietly.

"Apologies mean nothing," he said smiling. "The main thing is understanding how everything works. So tell me, did you truly understand the lesson here, or does your pretty little head need another reminder?" His tone was cold and condescending, making me feel even smaller. 

The fear that had subsided slightly came rushing back, cold and constricting - raw.

"No, no, I..." I stammered. "I understand." 

Langdon chuckled. "See, now that wasn't that difficult, was it?" he crooned, his hand reaching out to trace a finger along my jawline. His touch was mocking, a cruel gesture that sent a shiver of disgust through me and I diligently tried to hide it. It was hard not to move away. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Now we can have a productive talk.” He said, turning away from me. “You have brains, I’ll give you that. So why not put them in use, hm?” 

I could feel a slight sense of relief as he turned away from me, but it was quickly replaced by a wary uncertainty. His change in demeanor was unpredictable, and I had no idea what was coming next.

"What... what do you mean?" I asked, my voice betraying my unease.

He began pacing back and forth in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You're clever, resourceful... more useful from. And I hate to see potential go to waste."

He stopped in front of me, his eyes studying me intently. I could practically feel the gears in his mind turning as he weighed his words.

"But the problem is, you're stubborn," he said finally. "And that stubbornness leads to insolence."

He leaned in, his face mere inches away from mine. The smell of his cologne hit my nose again. Crisp and masculine scent.

"And insolence, my dear," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Is a trait I don't tolerate."

“I understand that.” I said semi-calmly.

“Oh, you are a quick learner as well.” he murmured. “Good girl.” His tone was still mocking, and I hated how the praise sent a flicker of warmth through me. I tried to remain stoic, but his words were starting to chip away at my defenses. 

He stepped back, his gaze still locked on me. 

"I have an offer for you," he said. "An offer that could benefit us both, if you play your cards right."

“What offer?” 

“I want you,” he began. “To work for me.” 

“Work for you?” I asked dumbly.

He chuckled at my confusion, enjoying my surprise.

"Yes, work for me," he confirmed. "You'll be doing research, digging up information on others, doing necessary tasks, anything I need. Think you can handle that, hm?"

“But… how?” I wasn’t expecting that offer at all. And how the fuck should I dig on others?

Langdon smiled at my question, obviously finding it amusing that I wasn't catching on.

"How?" he echoed. "You seemed smarter a few minutes ago."

He leaned against the table again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You'll be my eyes and ears, gathering intel for me. You'll tell me everything you see, hear or feel. And in return… I’ll put in a good word for you with the members of the Cooperative." 

I sat there, watching him silently.

He waited a moment, letting his words sink in. He was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head," he began. "You're thinking about all the possibilities, aren't you? Life at The Sanctuary is heaven if you are friends with the authorities." He smirked.

He was right. The possibilities were spinning in my head like a whirlpool. 

But I knew there was a catch. People like Langdon never offered anything without expecting something in return. Something much bigger than collecting information. 

“What’s the catch?” 

He smirked at my question. His eyes were glittering with satisfaction, clearly enjoying his little game.

"Ah, are you always so suspicious or am I an exception?" he asked, tilting his head a bit.

“You think I shouldn’t be suspicious of the man who almost choked me to death a few minutes ago?” My tone filled with venom and I bit my tongue, afraid to anger him again.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it was just a friendly reminder” he said leaning closer to me, whispering. “And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that, you are bad at hiding it.”

My heart skipped a beat, a mix of anger and embarrassment rushing through me. 

"Enjoy that?" I shot back. "Why would I enjoy being strangled by a sick psychopath?"

He smirked at my outburst, seemingly unfazed by my anger. 

"Now now, no need for name-calling," he said with mock hurt. "You can lie to yourself if it gives you comfort, but I saw the way you reacted, the way your body tensed, and the way your pupils dilated."

His gaze roamed over me in an almost predatory manner, making me feel exposed.

“Anyway, we have more important things to discuss than your sexual desires.” He smirked. “Accept my offer?”

His brazen, almost predatory manner was as infuriating as it was intoxicating. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I refused to look away. 

"Accept your offer..." I echoed, trying to sound strong. "You haven't exactly explained the full extent of this 'job' you're offering. I need more details before I can even consider it." I forced the words past my lip.

“It’s easy. You are loyal to me and I promise you protection. It’s always useful to have an intelligent, pretty head on your side.” he said, looking me up and down. “Before me, you were all alone among bastards, but now I offer you my hand and I really don't recommend biting it.”

“So I have to become a backstabber?” 

"No, my dear, you're thinking too low. You won't be backstabbing anyone. You'll merely be... helping me to form a new society. " He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Don’t tell me you are afraid of getting your hands bloody, I saw the way you look at Ms. Venable. You are bloodthirsty."

My eyes widened at his observation. I wasn't surprised he had caught on to my hatred for Ms. Venable, but hearing him say it out loud was another matter. 

"I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty," I said, my voice firm despite the shiver that ran down my spine. "I'm just not fond of being used."

Langdon sat on the edge of the table and smiled, almost genuine, he looked at me like I was a little kid.

“Come here.” he said calmly and beckoned me with the nod of his head.

I hesitated, not sure whether to obey his command or not. I slowly stood up and walked over to him, stopping a few feet away from him. It was crazy how he was radiating comfort and dominance at the same time. 

“Closer. I won’t bite.” 

I stepped closer and his hand reached to stroke my hair.

“You are special.” His voice was surprisingly gentle as he spoke. His fingers tangled in my hair, his touch both soothing and possessive. “You can achieve a lot or… stay here and rot with others.”

His words were like a cold bucket of water, snapping me out of the odd comfort I found myself in. I knew he was right, of course. Staying here meant settling for a life on the sidelines, living in fear and boredom. Or just die.

"You don't play fair, do you?" I said, my voice tinged with irritation. "One second you're choking me, the next you're stroking my hair and promising me the world."

"And why should I play fair, hm? Rules don't work anymore here, chaos has won." He leaned closer. 

I found myself smiling despite myself. It was probably still a shock. My mind couldn't keep up with what was happening. There was a dangerous charisma to him, an irresistible charm that I couldn't quite explain.

"That’s a convenient excuse for you to do whatever you want," I shot back, trying to sound defiant. "No rules means no boundaries."

Langdon chuckled again, his smirk widening. His hand slid down from my hair to rest on my throat again, his thumb brushing against my pulse.

"Careful," he warned, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I might start thinking you're enjoying this a bit too much." I freeze. “And about the rules… I prefer bending them, instead of breaking."

I didn’t answer, waiting for him to continue. He smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction. His thumb traced lazy circles on my throat, making my pulse quicken involuntarily.

“You don’t want to die here, do you?” He whispered in my ear. “It would be a shame if such potential would remain undisclosed…” His hand moved lower, gently touching my collarbone. “In this body.”

His touch ignited a strange fire inside me. I desperately tried to ignore the way my body reacted to him, the way my heart raced and my skin tingled where he touched me. 

"You make it sound like I'm a ticking time bomb." My voice came out a little breathier than I intended.

"Oh, don’t sell yourself short, darling," Langdon purred. "You’re more like a grenade. A beautiful, deadly grenade.” His hand caressed my skin. “So… Do we have a deal, Ms. Y/N?” 

I stared down at the floor, then back at Langdon, my gaze calculating. After a few seconds I nodded. “Deal.”

“Wise.” He smiled. “Now let’s make that official.”

His left hand went to grab my waist, while the other reached out to take something from the table. Small dagger. I instinctively tried to pull back, but his grip on me was unwavering

“No need to be scared, little lamb.” He handed me the weapon with the hilt forward. 

“Official?” I echoed.

“Yes. Deal in blood.” His answer made my body flinch.

The cool metal of the dagger felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hand. 

“Aren't you afraid that I would stab you?” I asked him, trying to hide my fear.

Langdon chuckled darkly, liking the question. 

"You wouldn't dare," he said with absolute confidence. "You're far too smart and too… intrigued by me to do something so foolish."

His eyes glittered dangerously like he was daring me to prove him wrong. "And besides... I have a feeling you're far more interested in finding out what it would be like to be on my good side."

He directed my hand, in which the dagger was clutched, and leaned the tip against the palm of his left hand. “Cut.”

I watched in fascination and slight horror as the blade made a small incision in his hand, a thin line of blood forming on his palm. He didn’t even flinch, his gaze locked on mine the entire time. It awakened in me something feral.

“Now you,” he said, his voice low and steady.

He grabbed my hand, his grip gentle but firm, and guided the knife to my palm. The sharp pain was muffled by his lips on my cheek. The warm blood slowly pooled in my palm. 

He pressed his wounded hand against mine, the touch inflicted pain. The blood from his hand mingled with mine, the warmth and stickiness of it a strange and yet somehow comforting sensation. 

 "And with that..." he said, his voice hushed. "Our deal is sealed."

I felt the burning urge to press my lips to his. Without clearly thinking I leaned to his face, kissing him hungrily. He didn’t return the kiss, but didn’t pull away either. 

"Now, now, dear," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Don't get ahead of yourself. No need to complicate things…"

His gaze flicked down to my lips, his own curving into a smug smile. I was ashamed of my bold move and confused by his stubbornness. He was a man after all, wasn’t he?

"Complicate?" I repeated, my voice tinged with sarcasm. "Says the one who just made me swear a blood pact."

Langdon chuckled, amused by my attempt at irritation. "Ah, don't pout," he said, his hand moving to gently cup my jaw. 

"Just because I'm not giving in to your every desire doesn't mean I’m inaccessible.” He leaned closer to my ear. "But keep pushing, darling. I do love it when you act up, maybe next time you wil get lucky." He carelessly brushed his lips along my wound, making me whimper quietly, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment. God, he is killing me.

Langdon pulled back, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His hand left my jaw, and I found myself missing the feel of his touch already. I leaned forward, wanting him to touch me.

"Ah ah ah," he tutted, his voice mockingly chiding. "I can practically feel your eagerness, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't have you slacking off on our deal."

He gestured lazily to the door. "You should return to your routine. Can’t have Ms. Venable catching you slinking around here for too long."

I bristled at his order, but I knew he was right. I nodded grudgingly.

"Fine."

I started to walk toward the door, my wounded hand throbbing a little from the recent events. But before I reached the threshold, Langdon's voice stopped me.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

I turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

His eyes were glinting mischievously.

"A word of advice," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Try to control that urge of yours. It's going to get you in trouble..." He paused, his gaze roaming up and down my body. "Or is it already too late?"

“Check it yourself next time,” I answered boldly and grabbed the door handle.

I couldn’t see his face, but was sure that he was amused.

"I might just take you up on that offer." I heard his smooth voice, as I left the room. "Off you go, little lamb." 

I shut the door behind me and leaned on it with my back. Probably that’s what it feels like to sell your soul to the Devil.

Have a good day <3

[beastsovrevelation]

Michael's so stern, and laconic, she's honestly just... Cold. But, I think she'd be so gallant towards a female love interest.

Damn... Imagine her kissing your hand (and refusing to break eye contact as she does it).

One could swoon. I'd say she definitely goes on one knee to propose.

Her Spartan demeanor does soften in her love interest's presence. A fond smile lights up her lips, and her piercing eyes shine with adoration. She mindlessly does things like brushing a lock of her so's hair behind her ear, putting her arm around her, or having her sit on her lap.

I also think (since she's the Champion) she has a pathological need to protect. Honestly, it might cause tension as she gets patronizing, even controlling. She's used to being obeyed without question, after all.

[allfallsdown]

In honor of me re-watching Secrets & Lies today...

Enjoy this graph that @splitscreen and I painstakingly made years ago. It's not just a meme. We actually watched the episode and collected all of the data, plotted it on a graph, etc. We are completely normal people.

My absolute favorite part is that Gallant is literally a straight line.

[gh0stly-mp3]

hi!!! your works are so damn interesting and well written, you are great in this regard!! can i ask, if you don't mind, sae, rin, reo, ness and kaiser with a calm gentleman s/o (headcanons but a scenario is good too)??? because they DESERVE the sweetest person in their life. just an s/o who takes care of them, does all sorts of gallant things like opening doors, pulling out chairs, like "flowers on dates are THE must" and so on??? i hope everything is fine with you, stay like that!!! 🩷

Hiii! Thanks! Especially for saying that my works are well-written, I'm trying to improve my English writing skills and this cheers me up a lot! ♡ - I love this idea btw, gentleman reader is one of my fav tropes :))

Love like you -> bllk hcs

bllk boys x s/o gn!reader

synopsis: how some bllk boys react to you being a gentleman to them and treating them well

tags: blue lock headcanons, fluff, comfort, gentle reader, calm reader, slice of life, kinda established relationship

warnings: manga spoilers, mature language

characters: sae, rin, reo, ness and kaiser + bonus: kurona

a/n: i love doing requests hehe (they're open btw)

masterlist.

Sae Itoshi ~ ♡

Sae would try not to show how much he loves when you take care of him and treat him like he's your prince (beacause he really is). But damn! He adores it! His favorite thing is when you bring him breakfast in bed.

He's used to being treated very cordially, always having people open doors and do everything for him, which he doesn't care much about. But, when you do it (because you love him and not because he's famous), he has conflicting feelings.

At the same time that he loves to feel personally cared for by you, he tries not to show it and keeps up the pose of "you're doing this because I'm a celebrity, not because you love me," but - deep down - his heart is warmed.

Rin Itoshi ~ ♡

Rin thinks you're so perfect, but It would take a long time for him to respond to your affection, but eventually he begins to appreciate your gentle actions and, when he has the courage, approaches you to be by your side.

He gets a little shy when you open doors or pull out chairs for him, but try not to show you. He's too afraid to get close to you and feel safe around you, just so that in the end you abandon him.

The greatest act of chivalry with Rin is to show him your love without wanting anything in return and giving him space in moments of vulnerability. The only vulnerable situation he lets you get close to him is when he's sick, where he lets you hold him.

Reo Mikage ~ ♡

People tend to treat Reo very well when they discover how many things can he buy before even looking the price. So when you showed him gentleness and care, he quickly asked - "how the hell did you know?" - but to his surprised, you didn't know about anything.

He tried to buy you things, thanking your time and consideration for his well being. But then you continued, and worse... You rejected his attemps to pay for your things.

That was a huge surprise, and after this, Reo started to get more and more nervous when you bought flowers for him. You were not serving him, you were not there for a reward, you were not interested in status. Rather, you were loving him for what and who he was.

Michael Kaiser ~ ♡

It's difficult for a prodigy to love anyone, as everybody is, technically, bellow him. Kaiser treats you well, better than he treats everyone else. But you don't let his false ego brush off your determination. Perhaps, one would need more than gentleness to get into his heart, but you know that's too much work for what he really needs. Actually, you were already inside. You just needed to make him understand how much you loved him.

So, you bring him flowers and gifts; you watch, careful, when both of you cross the street; you even brush his hair when he doesn't feel like it. But, unlike all the others, you aren't interested in the champion. You don't bow and let the title he grasps so hardly dominate you.

And he observes in horror the blue color of the roses on the table. And he turns his blushed cheeks away when a car passes by and you put your hands on his chest. And he inches with the warm of your hands on his hair. And he lets you love him, but refuses to step out of his cave.

You know he will, eventually.

Alexis Ness ~ ♡

Ness was confused, surprised and even a bit annoyed with the first time you pulled a chair for him. He was careful not to fall on a prank but when he sit, you simply smiled. He was used to serve you, never him, it was always about you. And suddenly, someone got a glass of water for him. For him. He didn't ask. He didn't even hint on anything. You simply said how hot it was. He must have been thirsty.

Now he gets irritated everytime you make something for him. You were paying attention to his needs, to his attempts on hiding everything so he can make you happy. But sometimes, you catch a glimpse of him staring at you, smiling. (he lovess it, but don't tell him that)

+ bonus

Kurona ~ ♡

He always blush when you open doors or pull out chairs for him, and whenever you do it, he places a shy kiss on your cheek or forehead.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

The Ballad of the Golden Knight and the Flower Nymph ~ Jaime Lannister x Tyrell Reader

Summary: Y/N has been Jaime and Cersei's best friend since before they were born, the fated trio of a bard's adventure story, however, not with a happy ending. When Jaime and Y/N fall in love, and Cersei becomes more and more bitter and jealous, revenge must be had. If Cersei does not know happiness - Then no one is allowed to.

> The story follows Y/N's relationship through the years with Jaime and Cersei, all the way until Daenerys' return to Westeros.

(( Jaime Lannister fanart by Michael Komarck ))

"There it goes! Quick, Jaime, before it gets away!" a lovely young lady was running around the flower garden trying to catch up with a cute orange cat they spotted while sparring in the training grounds. They had heard the knight training them to come back or they'll get scolded - But the warning fell on deaf ears. The same as the cat, who didn't want to cooperate, and escaped by climbing up a tree... And Jaime after her.

The poor boy was struggling to climb up the tree, but the cat was much faster and nimbler than him. "Shut up, Y/N, of course, you’re faster on the ground - But I can't climb up as fast as the cat! In fact, why don’t you climb up here and scare it down, so I can chase it around instead?"

Y/N wasted no time and climbing up by his side, grinning like a little imp. "I was enjoying my view." she teased the boy who blushed a little. "Besides - You were being graceful! I have to let you overcome this challenge, right? Knights are supposed to be strong and nimble, aren't they?"

"I’ll have you know, I’m as nimble as that cat!" he sounded mock-offended, pouting at her, only to hear the cat meowing defiantly from a higher branch, just out of reach. Both of the children started giggling.

"Oh yes, Ser Jaime the Cat Knight the Nimble, sworn to the chase. Shall I sing of your exploits?" the girl leaned forward, close to his face.

Jaime, however, hit his chest with pride. "You’ll be singing of my victory when I catch it! Just wait." he declared boldly as he lunged for the cat, darting further up the tree - Though he went to fast that he almost lost balance, making Y/N worry.

"Careful! If you fall, I’ll have to make you a crown of thorns instead of flowers! I want to sing of your success, not at your funeral!" the statement made the boy let out a confident laugh.

"I would wear it proudly either way, if it came from you, my sweet lady!" Y/N blushed a little at how charming Jaime could be - With them being spoken for, it was difficult not to imagine a loving and beautiful future together.

Eventually, however, they both gave up trying to catch the little devilish feline, retorting to laying on the ground by the flowers and looking up at the clouds lazily passing by - And then, they looked at each other, and laughed.

"Do you think it's laughing at us now? Two idiots, defeated by a scrappy little stray cat?" Y/N asked, turning to her side to look at her beautiful betrothed.

Jaime grinned, sitting up enthusiastically. "It is not over, Y/N! Next time, I will catch it for sure! And when I do, you will owe me a proper song about Ser Jaime the Cat Knight!"

Y/N smiled sweetly at him - He was so innocent, so untainted, so pure and genuine - A golden knight, a true sunshine, who deserved only the best in the world. He was beautiful, with golden hair messily emanating around him like a Godly aura, and those emerald eyes sparkling so precious with boyish enthusiasm and vitality. He was perfect. "Fine. But if you fall again, I will make the song about Ser Jaime the Tree Tumbler instead." they shared a laugh again, before Y/N had an idea, and fell back on her belly, quickly gathering some white, yellow and red flowers, quickly making a gorgeous flower crown. "For Ser Jaime of House Lannister - I have made you this crown, fit for a gallant knight, for when you prevail over that feline demon!"

Jaime's eyes went wide with surprise, and his cheeks were red. "A knight, you say? I’m hardly one yet... But I’ll gladly accept it from you, my lady."

"You look very regal. Like a lion of summer, crowned in blooms. It suits you, Jaime." her compliment made the boy smile even wider - One of his baby teeth had fallen, and he looked goofy and cute. Still, he laughed carefree.

"A lion of summer? How silly! What would Father say if he saw me now? 'A Lannister wears gold, not daisies,' he’d grumble. Ha!" Jaime imitated his father masterfully, making them both laugh even more.

"Oh, hush! It suits you. Besides, gold can be cold. This is warmer, don’t you think? Flowers are beautiful - And so are you." she spoke in such a sweet tone that it made Jaime's heart melt with warmth and darling.

"It is… warmer. Thank you." but much to his surprise, instead of a response from the girl, he received a sweet kiss on his cheek; Jaime's cheeks reddened more than the flowers he was wearing. "Wh-What was that for?"

"For being my knight in shining armor, of course! Every fair lady should reward her champion of light and justice, don’t you think?" she giggled cutely, making the boy stand up straight and tall, like a valiant knight should.

"Yes, that is right! And when I become knighted - Ser Jaime Lannister - I shall make for our wedding - What say you, the most beautiful Flower Lady?" he picked her hand gallantly, kissing it; He adored how lovely she looked, so demure and graceful, even when she wasn't trying, even when she was covered in dirt and wearing breeches. She was so soft and sweet, like no other. Everything she did made him so deeply in love with her.

"Ser Jaime Lannister the Golden Knight, and Lady Y/N Tyrell, the Rose of the Realm."

But it was always "The Knight and the Rose", not "The Knight, the Queen and the Rose", Cersei bitterly remarked, as once again, she was being left out from the activities her own twin brother and best friend were so joyfully doing. She wasn't allowed to horse-ride, wasn't allowed to spar, to do archery, to wear breeches and tumble around the mud like a pig, or chase after cats and dogs like a simple fool.

She was simmering internally with anger, and her face was twisted in envy, watching those two being all lovey-dovey. After their mother caught them in bed together, she separated them to sleep in different wings of the castle; She was forced to share a bed with all those headless chicken who try to befriend her, while Jaime enjoys the glee of having his bedchamber just across Y/N's own room. Why does their mother not make a fuss about those two sneaking into each other's room? Of course, Cersei snitched on them, but it wasn't a problem, because they were betrothed, she said. They need to get to know each other, she said. Horse shite, Cersei said, before having her mouth slapped.

Angry hot tears stung at her eyes that night, punching the pillow and kicking her bed maid off the bed. If the person by her side wasn't Jaime or Y/N, then they didn't deserve to share the comfort of her bed. It was hers, not theirs.

As dark thoughts kept tainting her heart, she didn't realise how she butchered her embroidery, and even stabbed her own finger with the needle - Nor that her father stepped behind her.

"You might be proficient with the wrong kind of needle." her whole body shivered in shock as she heard her father's grave voice. "You are supposed to bleed the enemy to death, not your own self."

"Father..." she grumbled under her breath, looking at Y/N and Jaime going back to sparring. "Look at them. Rolling in the dirt like common stable boys. It is unbecoming of a lady, don’t you think, Father? She is unworthy of becoming Jaime's wife - The future Lady Lannister, the wife of the heir of Casterly Rock."

"She’s indulging Jaime. That is not unbecoming; it is strategic." he spoke calmly. "Do not think I have any love for her family - In spite of that, however, politically speaking, this alliance is as powerful as it can get. Save for the Crown, there is no stronger family worthy of our lineage."

But Cersei was hearing none of it. She was bristling with rage and deaf to the political truth of the matter. "Strategic? She’s filthy! If that were me, you would drag me by the ear and lock me in my chambers for a week!" she exclaimed like a brat. "Her whole family is uncouth filth - She said she was riding horses since she was old enough to walk, and has been training in falconry with her brother all the same! How is that worthy of our noble family?!"

Tywin took a sharp inhale, making his daughter's blood freeze in her veins; It was clear he was getting fed up with her complaining."If that were you, Cersei, you’d be shouting at your brother, demanding the sword instead of proving you can wield it better. Or sulking when it wasn’t handed to you." she tried to complain, indignant at the accusations, but her father cut her off immediately.

The Lannister Lord looked at the yard, his piercing green eyes staring at Lady Y/N ducking with great agility under Jaime's swing and lightly tapping his side with her sword - His son laughed, declaring her the victor. Unlike his twin, Jaime was not a sore loser; He worked hard to overcome his weaknesses, to become a better version of himself. He was not the smartest, academically speaking, and he was having great problems even reading - But at least, when it came to wielding a sword, he was a prodigy. Tywin knew better than anyone that he needed a shrewd and intelligent wife to help him govern Casterly Rock after he was no more.

"She knows how to play her role in this mummer's show. A lady when it matters, and clever enough to win favor when it doesn’t. That is why she is worth my time, Cersei." the Lord told his daughter.

Cersei hissed at her father angrily. "So I’m not worth your time because I don’t prance around with flowers and simper like a fool?"

"No, you are not worth my time because you waste it. You’re too busy complaining about what you’re not allowed to do instead of mastering what you are. She can stitch a tapestry as finely as she can outwit Jaime with a wooden sword. Can you say the same?" Cersei's fists clenched with simmering rage, her nails biting into her palms painfully. Her voice got lower, venomous.

"She isn’t perfect. You only favor her because she’s a Tyrell. She brings wealth and alliances. If she were not, you would scold her just like me." she declared boldly. "Besides - Mother didn't have to behave like a fool to charm you. She was just pretty... And a maiden. Just like me.

"Do not mistake my favoritism for weakness. If she falters, I shall correct her. But unlike you, she doesn’t test my patience every time she opens her mouth." Tywin scolded his daughter coldly, watching as she flinched at the harshness of his words, though characteristically of her ego, she refused to back down. Her gaze shifted back to the two playing fools, watching as Jaime helped Y/N get up from the ground, though he still looked bright and full of admiration at the Tyrell girl, despite her being filthy from head to toe, just like him.

"It's not fair... She’s bewitched him. Jaime looks at her like she hung the moon. That’s why you’re so indulgent. Because she’s wrapped him around her little finger, and you think she’ll keep him loyal to you." she huffed, her eyes narrow and filled with murder. "Jaime is mine, not hers. He is my twin brother. He should spend time with me, not her - She is just a stranger. She can't steal everything from me, in my own home!"

"Cersei - Open your ears and listen clearly to me." her body froze in place with unexpected fear. "We all must play a role in this life, based on what dice we roll." he spoke solemnly. "The circumstances of your mother and I were far different than those of Y/N and Jaime - Though do not think, even for one second, to downplay your mother's worth to only her beauty and maidenhead." she never heard her father speak that way - He wasn't a man of compliments or sweet words, yet in his own way, he was scolding her for reducing his wife to being just another woman. "Y/N is here to make Jaime fall in love with her, marry, make children, and inherit Casterly Rock. The strongest two houses in Westeros are bound to thrive for generations on end." he continued his speech. "Likewise, she is here to teach you how to behave in the same way - How else are you supposed to learn how to shake down that nasty attitude of yours and become a woman worthy of charming Rhaegar Targaryen?"

Cersei jumped in her seat, her attention shifted completely on her father. "Rhaegar... Targaryen...? Th-The Prince, you mean? The Heir to the Iron Throne?"

"I will not have mine own daughter marry any less than the best there is in this realm." he declared coldly, looking into the horizon with cold spite - Cersei knew there was some bad blood between her father and King Aerys, but she wasn't aware of the details. "I will make you the Queen of the Realm, even if kills me - So instead of sulking and spitting venom like a viper, how about you use even half of that effort into honing those skills you take such pride on - Bitterness will get you nowhere. Listen to her. Learn from her. Never falter - And then, you shall become Queen."

For once, Cersei didn't protest - She hadn't met the Crown Prince yet, but she heard tales of how gallant and handsome he was, just like in those romantic tales she heard - For once, Cersei imagined herself Jonquil, in the arms of her beloved Florian - What a foolish tale - She was foolish indeed, to be dreaming of such childish things - She wasn't just a girl, she was the daughter of Tywin Lannister; She wasn't supposed to fall in love to the idea of a beautiful and valiant Prince who would treat her right... But she was get enamoured, dreaming of a man she had never met.

For once, Cersei didn't dream of sharing a bed with either Jaime or Y/N, but with a silver-haired boy with purple eyes like amethyst, and with the heart of a dragon. Y/N and Jaime can have each other, for all she cares; A dumb lion and a cunning rose. They can do whatever, as long as she marries Rhaegar Targaryen and becomes the Queen of the Realm.

"Jaime! Jaime! Look!" a young girl chirped enthusiastically, holding her skirts up in her arms, as if she was holding something. "Look what I found!"

Jaime looked at the pretty little lady with utmost interest and curiosity, drawing closer to her - To his surprise, he saw four baby bunnies nestled together. "Rabbits? Where did you find these?"

"I was in the flower garden nearby, looking for pretty red flowers to make crowns for you and Cersei - I found the mangled bunny mommy under a tree, and a few babies next to her. These three were the only surviving ones." the golden haired lioness also approached the two, looking at the little fluffs with a frown and slight disgust.

"They look... Weird." she muttered under her breath. "They're too small. We can't eat them, nor make pelts out of them. You should have left them to die as a family. They're too small to know they are suffering, regardless - Father says it's a mercy."

"I..." little lady Tyrell's smile fell, and she looked down at the terrified bunnies. "I... Hoped we could take care of them. Maybe Lord Tywin will see this as an early way of taking responsibility - Learning how to take care of a frail and vulnerable creature, so we get used to taking care of our babes when we grow older?" she tried to reason, but Cersei only scoffed, looking away.

"As if my Lord Father would ever agree to such a folly..." without much grace, she pinched her fingers around the scruff of a brown bunny, lifting it up - As soon as she got it to eye-level, the little critter squeaked loudly, making the lioness let go of it to fall back on the skirts of the Tyrell girl. "What an awfully loud and uncouth creature."

"You were much like it when you were born, daughter." the three children all jumped in shock as they heard the Lord Lannister's stern voice; Thankfully, he was followed by his Lady Wife, who was smiling warmly at them. They remained mute as the father raised another of the rabbits and inspected it.

"This one looks old enough to live without its mother. The eyes are open, the teeth are strong, and its limbs are nimble." he put it into his wife's delicate hands.

"And almost as darling as a baby." Lady Joanna added with a motherly hum. "I think Lady Y/N's idea is a most brilliant one - I would say they are old enough to learn the way of the household, would you not agree, my darling?"

"For Cersei and Y/N yes, I would say so, but what about Jaime? He has no time to fool around, he is to become a knight, not a kennel master for rabbits." Lady Joanna placed her hand delicately over her mouth, stifling a sweet giggle as she placed the bunny in Jaime's hands.

"You are most correct, my darling - However, would you not agree that it would bring Jaime and Y/N closer, taking care of babies together, the same they shall do in the future, when they marry and create a family of their own? Mayhaps this little exercise of responsibility will foreshadow their future happy life together." as always, Tywin couldn't argue with his dear wife's reasoning - He could almost never refuse her. In fact, the man held a half-smile and offered a curt nod to the children before leaving them to their plays.

"And there even is a fourth little bunny, for Cersei's and Jaime's little brother!" Y/N exclaimed, making Lady Joanna smile kindly, placing her hand over her slightly swollen belly.

"Don't come crying to me when they die." was his last response before he entered the castle to return to his duties, followed by his wife.

Although Cersei didn't want to admit, she was quite happy her father agreed to allowing them to keep the rabbits - In spite of it not being thanks to her own persuasion, but her friend. Truly, it was fine, she tried to lie to herself - Though whenever she looked at Y/N as saw that radiant smile... Or, rather, whenever she saw how happy Jaime was, staying around Y/N like a moth to the flame... A piece of her was breaking. Jaime was HER twin, they shared the same womb, he came into this world holding her foot - Jaime should love HER the most, not Y/N!

But Cersei couldn't be angry at Y/N - Not when Y/N was the only person who understood her. Not when Cersei could talk to her about falconry and horse-riding, about archery and swordsmanship. Y/N wasn't like all those stupid bedmaids who know only to gossip and seam dresses. Not when Y/N was supposed to marry Jaime, not Rhaegar Targaryen.

No, Y/N was different, she was raised different. She had loving parents and loving siblings who adored her; The people of Highgarden weren't looking down on her for wearing breeches and playing in the mud with her brothers or learning how to ride with them - In fact, they praised her for being proactive and wishing to learn as many arts as humanly possible. She was always praised for every little thing she did - Something that Cersei had never heard of, especially from her father. The only comfort Cersei ever had was the loving embrace of her mother, and the company of Jaime and Y/N...

However, she was jealous on both of them, to such a burning degree, that oft times, she couldn't hold back a sneer or a snarky comment that would hurt them.

She wanted to be a nice person, truly, she did - But why was Jaime treated differently, just because he was a body? Why was he allowed to play around and get dirty, to practice swordsmanship, archery, horse-riding... While she was stuck learning the history of dead men, and sewing some ugly flowers of a dress. She loved Jaime - She wanted to be Jaime - When they changed clothes, they were one and the same, not even Tywin Lannister could differentiate between them two. She loved Jaime - But she also hated Jaime.

The same way she loved Y/N, but also, hated Y/N. Y/N could embroider the most beautiful patterns, she could paint the most picturesque landscapes, make the prettiest flower crowns and bouquets, master all the arts taught by the Maester... As well as roll around in the mud like a pig with her brother... Or help with spar... Or indulge in archery competitions... Or ride small horses... Or chase cats through the garden... Or even indulge in falconry...

She hated how she felt so bitterly about everyone around her - She wasn't like this, she didn't want to feel like this. She wanted to be beautiful, graceful, kind - She wanted to be a woman worthy of being called 'The Queen of Westeros' ; and yet... She was well aware, these dark, tainting feelings were eroding her from the inside, and only her mother could help her diminish those awful thoughts and feelings plaguing her soul. It was times like those that not even the thought of marrying the silver haired beauty wasn't capable of consoling her.

"Well then!" Jaime was the first to chirp up, digging his hands into Y/N's skirts and retrieving the most energetic and robust bunny; That one was a gorgeous shade of blue-grey and velvety soft, with light coloured eyes. "You shall be mine companion!"

"He is definitely a fighter, just like you, Jaime!" Y/N giggled cutely, watching her beloved hold the bunny up so awkwardly, yet with a sunny grin on his face.

"And just as much of a fool - Look at it, wiggling in your grip, as if it wouldn't shatter his bones if he fell to the ground from that height. Fragile little fool." Cersei crossed her arms, spitting at the two, though not even she could deny how cute those little critters were.

Jaime, however, ignored her comment, and only let out a boyish snigger. "You shall be the greatest knight to ever be! Just like The Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne!" he claimed boldly. "So young, yet already so legendary - Ser Bunny Dayne!" he said in a loud, confident roar.

"What. An. Idiot." Cersei let out a loud groan, before picking her own bunny; It was a golden girl with light coloured eyes. It could, in no way, match her beauty - But it was, by far, the prettiest of the three, and the most refined-looking. "Mine shall be called Queen. I will have the blacksmith forge a crown for her, and you and your plebeian rabbits shall bow down and kneel in front of us." she smirked at the other two, who smiled sweetly at her, doing a joint reverie curtesy.

"My Queen!" they giggled in unison, as Cersei finally seemed satisfied with the outcome.

The runt of the litter was a white rabbit with black eyes, small and scrawny. "My little darling shall be named Rose." Y/N cuddled the little petal-sized bunny into her neck, watching as Jaime cooed at how cute they were, with the rabbit nuzzling into her cheek as if seeking protection and warmth.

"It's settled! We now have three companions worthy of a ballad to be sung by the bards across generations! The Knight, The Queen and The Rose!" declared the boy boldly.

"Sounds like a wonderful tale to be sung for tourneys and events of all kinds!" Y/N clapped cheerfully.

"Yes, yes, magnificent, I agree." Cersei looked at the two bright idiots with disdain. "But has either of you any idea whatsoever on how to take care of a bunch of rabbits?" they remained mute and unmoved. "Thought so. You two are idiots, that's what you are." she scoffed once again. "There are midwives and nurse-maids who take care of infants - But who in their right minds would know how to take care of infant rabbits?" she scolded the two. "No matter. Let us see if the maesters can help us - Or perhaps the horse or kennel masters. They are all animals, cannot be that different, can it?"

"Cheers to Queen Cersei for being the brightest of us!" Y/N clapped at her for her bright idea - It wasn't that she didn't think of it, but Cersei had been so upset lately, that she needed to find some way of gratification - Of validation - And since her own father was never going to give it to her, and the words of her mother were already beginning to dwindle on her, the last thing she held was some authority grip on her little group of friends.

But that wasn't long to last, as no matter how hard she tried, Cersei could never receive the praise she so dearly craved for. No matter how pretty her writing was, Y/N's calligraphy was always better, more gracious, more feminine and elegant. No matter how good her seaming and embroidery was, Y/N's was always more refined and intricate. No matter how well she did in politics and history lessons, there was always some little tid-bit useless trivia that Y/N came up with to impress the Maesters and Septas.

Not fair! It was not fair!

She was still young, she had time to learn, of course! She was still young, and so was Jaime - They still could switch places and pretend to be the other twin, and Y/N never snitched on her... But that was worse, because her father allowed Y/N to train and play around with Jaime, and it was so much fun!

She loved to swing a sword around, to get dirty and wear breeches, to do calculus and think up war strategies, to pull back the string of the bow and shoot arrows -- Sure, she wasn't very good at it, but how could she be, if she wasn't allowed to train herself, like Y/N did? Oh, she was so very jealous, watching Y/N ride on a beautiful mare, by Jaime's and Tywin's side, and on her gloved hand, a most beautiful falcon nuzzling its beak into her cheek as she fed it some meat.

She wanted to be the one on that horse. She wanted to be loved by the falcon. She wanted to have her hair breezed by the wind as she rides into adventures. She wanted her heart to race with adrenaline and excitement. She wanted to spill blood and gore.

Instead, she was doomed to be mounting a throne, to be loved by a disgusting old man probably, to have her hair breezed by the air on her balcony, to have her heart race with annoyance as he climbs into her bed, and spill the blood of her maidenhood and the gore of her births.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! Just because she didn't have a cock between her legs didn't make her any less worthy and capable!

She looked at Jaime with disdain and envy, stabbing her embroidery and biting her lip until blood trickled down her chin - He couldn't even read properly, but he was allowed to train to become a knight? All of father's good traits came to her, but she just had to be a woman like her mother - Yes, she was beautiful, but at what cost? It was a curse to be a woman.

But how can she excel, when her bitterness and jealousy overwhelm her very senses? When her pride and greed for validation are stronger than her will of remaining a passive little doll to be manipulated by others. She is a lioness, she is strong, noble, prideful, arrogant and confident - How can she allow herself to sit back and just embroider and smile and... Nothing else.

These gnawing worries and emotions kept plaguing her to the point that she hadn't realised how she was falling behind in her studies, until her father went to check on their maesters and septas to see how they were doing - And it was not a pretty sight.

The Lannister Lord looked at Jaime's work with a rare nod of approval - Though slower than average, his son was capable of clearly reading out loud the words written on the books he was supposed to study; Tywin had tried time and time again to make sense of the letters jumbled inside his own son's head, and was never able to sort it out. "The Maester tells me you’ve been making progress with your reading, Jaime. I was beginning to think it was beyond you."

Jaime, not having expected a compliment from the cold man he calls father, blushed faintly, looking down with a boyish smile, before gazing at Y/N. "It wasn’t easy. But I had help." likewise, the girl smiled sweetly at him. Of course it was the Tyrell girl who got Jaime to learn how to read properly, he needn't be surprised anymore.

"Y/N has been incredibly patient with me... More patient than I deserve, if I am being honest. She found ways to make it easier for me to piece words together, despite the letters not making sense to me and looking chaotic in my head." Cersei wanted to vomit at how annoyingly cutesy those two idiots were being with each other. They didn't have to flaunt how very happily in love they were with each other, and all that nonsense they were shamelessly displaying in front of everyone.

"I do not deserve all the praise, My Lord, I truly have not done much; Jaime did all the hard work himself - He is very diligent when he sets his mind to do something. He just needed a push in the right direction, and he flew on his own from there." oh, what an annoyingly humble and selfless response - Cersei hated that. If she achieved something, she wanted to be praised for it, not to pretend to be holier than thou. "Diligent or not, you did well, Lady Tyrell. Jaime is lucky to have a devoted and patient wife such as yourself." Tywin felt like his body was being burnt and prickled with thorns, spewing such compliments, but if it meant achieving what he set as his goals, it mattered little. Cersei needed to learn from Y/N, and Jaime had to marry Y/N. The Highgarden resources were highly valuable, and so was the Crown power.

Alas, his plans were only going half his way, as his daughter, with the ever spiteful venomous tongue, cut in to protest. If only she would learn to shut up, she would be seen as wiser. "I tried to help him too, Father. But it’s impossible to teach someone who doesn’t even try to learn."

"That’s not fair, Cersei! It's not my fault I see the letters flying and constantly changing places!" Jaime protested immediately, not appreciating the way his sister was blaming him like that.

Cersei slapped her hands on the table, raising up and hissing at her stupid younger brother. It was times like these, when he was agreeing with her, that she felt completely alienated in her own home, by her own family - She was truly alone. "Oh, it is not? Did you try this hard when I sat with you for hours, sounding out every word? No! You just stared at the page like a dullard, and when I corrected you, you sulked like a child!" she crossed her arms, huffing in anger. "I was right to stop wasting my time. You’re hopeless, Jaime. More suited to swinging swords like a lowborn than inheriting Casterly Rock. You never had a problem reading - You just wanted Y/N's attention so you can impress her."

The room falls silent, echoing with the sound of a slap, as Cersei's face gets struck, and she falls to the ground. Jaime stiffens, remaining silent, while Y/N instinctively bites her lip and holds his hand for comfort. She was always somewhat afraid of men who acted violent, though she couldn't fault Tywin for disciplining his misbehaving daughter - Y/N herself wanted to strike Cersei for speaking so ill of her beloved Jaime.

"I, myself, tried teaching Jaime how to read - Are you saying I would not know if my own son had a problem with his studies? Or do you assume that, when he says the letters are jumbled in his head, he is lying to get out of studying?" the Lord's voice was harsh and grave.

"Exactly so!" Jaime sighed, squeezing Y/N's hand. "Y/N helped me read intuitively... I read the shape of the letters, of the words, so I try to read the first and last letters and guess the words. I read fast this way, yes, but I do not always read correctly - So I have to go back to reading the same word again, and figure out where I was wrong..." he tried to explain, though his own ailment was difficult to understand even for himself, let alone to put it into words. "I... I am sorry I am so difficult to deal with... I promise I really tried my hardest to get better... And I still am... But it does not always work as I wish it to. It takes patience... And I am very grateful for every bit of it."

"Jaime has worked so, so hard, and he has improved so much. When we study together, he focuses with such determination... He stays up every night to practice reading, even though he wakes up tired in the morning." Y/N cleared her throat. "He wanted to make Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna proud by reading a poem for them, on the anniversary of their wedding."

Jaime’s tension eases slightly, and he gives the Y/N a bashful, grateful smile. Tywin, in turn, looked sharply at Cersei - How was she going to make Rhaegar Targaryen want to wed her, when she has such a disgusting attitude? No man would ever want a spiteful and opinionated wife like her. "Do you hear that? Patience. Encouragement. Qualities you sorely lack, Cersei. Instead of supporting your brother, you insult and belittle him. And you wonder why you fail where others succeed?"

Cersei's voice rose up, in spite of her knowing she will get awfully punished - Her red cheek was stinging, and tears streamed down her face, but it was in vain - Whenever her pride took over, her mind took a backseat and she forgot herself. "Why do you always take her side? She’s not even your daughter! In fact - You treat her more like a daughter than you treat me!"

Tywin rose a quizzical eyebrow, though remained unshaken. "Is that so?" he spoke in such a low, cold tone, that it made all three children shiver with a terrified chill. "Then tell me, Cersei. Why is it that every report I receive from your Septas and the Maester mentions your negligence? Your embroidery is sloppy, your history lessons are incomplete, and your arithmetic is abysmal."

Cersei, however, remained on the defensive. "They exaggerate! I’ve been studying, obviously, but how can I focus when she—" she gestured her hand towards Y/N. "When she keeps giggling with Jaime and skipping classes and distracts me all the time?"

Her father cut her off with a tone as sharp as valyrian steel. "Enough." Cersei froze on the spot as her father stepped in front of her, looking down at her with such disappointment that it physically hurt more than the slap itself. "Making excuses for your failures by dragging others into it is unbecoming of a Lannister. You think you can mask your laziness with lies? To humiliate the noble House of Lannister?" he called for one of the Septas to come in - She nervously did a curtsy, unable to look up at him. "Show me her embroidery - And than Lady Tyrell's."

The other Septas waiting outside hurried to retrieve the most recent pieces hastily - He was not proficient in embroidery, but one needn't be, when comparing Cersei's uneven stitches, and the little prickles of blood stained on the sides, to Y/N's delicate and intricate romantic pattern of a golden lion surrounded by blooming roses. What a disappointment. Surely his own children should have inherited some of his talent and wit... Hopefully, the third would be better. "Discipline, diligence and pride - As opposed to lack of interest, haste and boredom."

Seeing her own embroidery next to Y/N's made Cersei feel positively humiliated - She hadn't realised until then how far apart they were. "You take pride only in being a Lannister with wealth and power - Though you do not possess the skills, nor the will for it. Perhaps if you studied as much as you complained, you would reach at least a quarter of Lady Tyrell's level."" her face was burning with shame, as her father asked the Maester to bring about their academic progress records.

"Lady Tyrell has consistently excelled in her studies, my lord. Her arithmetic is precise, her history essays insightful, and her understanding of High Valyrian is remarkable." the old man cleared his throat awkwardly. "As for Lady Cersei…" he hesitated, gulping down as he glanced nervously at the Lannister Lord. "… has struggled to meet even the minimum expectations."

No one spoke another word; The maesters and septas all left the chamber, leaving Lord Tywin alone with the three children. With a nod of his head, Jaime took Y/N's hand and they, too, bolted out of there, not wanting to be subjected to his wrath.

"What do you have to say in your defense, daughter?" one last chance he offered her, before a tidal wave of critique shall follow.

"What would you have me do, Father? I see Y/N for who she is - She is not nearly as much of a fairy as everyone thinks she is! She is pretending - She seduced Jaime and everyone around her - She is trying to steal everything from me!" and Tywin expected nothing more from his brat of a daughter. Why could she not be as well behaved as her own mother? He swears Jaime is more like Joanna - How could Cersei inherit nothing from her own mother?

"For her to 'steal' things from you, as you say, you must first 'own' things - Which, mind you, you do not own anything. Everything you have is thanks to me and mine own efforts, not by any means anything that you have done thus far." Cersei’s hands tremble with rage, but she says nothing. "Why must you squander every opportunity to prove yourself? Can you not see you are not nearly as smart as you think you are?" he continued with his disappointment. "You are angry for being a pawn used for political alliances, yet you do nothing to prove your worth above marriage - Yet how much use can you be of me, when you behave like a spoiled child, and you would repel the Crown Prince at first sight with your unruliness?" the idea of Rhaegar looking at her and running away from her broke her heart in pieces.

"What would you have me do? Sit and smile like her? Pretend to care about embroidery and make up while Jaime is allowed to chase glory?" Cersei’s eyes burn with tears, but Tywin pays her no mind, as usual.

"I would have you master the tools at your disposal. You are a woman of House Lannister. You wield power not with swords, but with intellect, charm, and influence, yet you refuse to cultivate any of these because you cannot see beyond your own bitterness. That is why you fail. Instead of using your advantages to secure a future worthy of our name, you squander them with petty jealousy and spite." he then continued in a softer, yet no les chilling tone. "You embarrass me, Cersei. If you drive away the Crown Prince with your disgusting arrogance and spite, then you are of no use to me."

Cersei storms out, her anger boiling over into hot tears as she vows silently that one day, she’ll show them all. She’ll show him. She’ll prove she’s more than they think — At any cost.

She sought out the only person of comfort to her, and fell to her knees before her mother, dramatically hugging her legs and sobbing loudly into her lap, as Joanna could only pat her golden locks to appease her. "Not fair! Mother, it is not fair! Why does father always scold me, but never Y/N? Why does Jaime like Y/N more than me? Why can Y/N do the same things Jaime can, but I cannot?!" she cried like the little five year old child that she was, noticing the blinding differences between them. "Am I not good enough for father? Am I not a worthy daughter? Am I meant only to breed like a cattle cow, and bring babes into this world, while Y/N and Jaime have fun together, going on adventures and living a happy and fulfilling life?!"

"Oh, my sweet child, that is not true." Joanna kissed the golden crown of her head. "Your father cannot scold Y/N because she is not of our own family, but a Tyrell - She is an important member to alliance with, for political purposes - The fact that Y/N and Jaime get along so well is just a pure coincidence."

Joanna smoothed a hand over her daughter's golden curls, her touch gentle as always. "You are your father's only daughter, Cersei. He holds you to the highest of standards because he expects great things from you."

Cersei sniffled, pulling away just enough to glare up at her mother. "He expects me to sit still and be quiet! He expects me to smile and curtsey and act as if I am no more than a broodmare to be bartered away!" her little fists clenched at the fabric of Joanna’s gown. "Why doesn’t he expect that of Jaime? Why can Jaime do as he pleases while I—" she hiccuped, her voice breaking "... while I am scolded like a child for simply wanting the same?"

Joanna sighed softly, brushing a tear from Cersei’s flushed cheek. "Because Jaime is a boy, my love. And you…" she hesitated, then cupped her daughter’s face in both hands, forcing Cersei to meet her eyes. "You were born to be something else entirely. Something greater."

Cersei blinked, her breath hitching. "Greater?"

"Yes." Joanna nodded, her voice soothing, but there was an undeniable weight to it. "Jaime will grow into a knight, yes, but you, my sweet girl — You will be the Queen."

For the first time since she had fled to her mother’s chambers, Cersei’s breath steadied. The Queen. That meant being the wife of Rhaegar Targaryen, the mysterious and gallant prince of her dreams, the man she had never met before, but often fantasised over. The thought sent a strange thrill through her veins, stronger than any promise of adventure, stronger even than her desire to best Y/N. The realisation that, being the Queen of Westeros, gave her the power to rule - And she always loved having authority and power over people.

"The Queen..." she repeated, as if tasting the words for the first time.

"Queen Cersei." Joanna smiled, though it did not quite reach her eyes. "But a Queen must have patience, my love. She must be clever, and careful. She cannot lash out like a little girl throwing tantrums."

Cersei frowned. "But Y/N—"

"Y/N is not you." Joanna interrupted gently. "She will marry Jaime one day, yes, but that is her role. Yours is far grander. Yours is to rule. When you father and I are no more, and Y/N and Jaime marry, Y/N will rule over the Westerlands and most - But you? You will be the sole power over the whole Seven Kingdoms."

Cersei swallowed, her mind racing. To rule. The words filled her head, drowning out the ache in her chest. Perhaps she had been foolish to cry over Jaime’s affections and attention. Perhaps she had been wasting her energy on a war that was already lost. Let Jaime and Y/N have their foolish happiness.

She would have a crown.

She straightened, brushing the last of her tears away. Joanna, ever perceptive, smiled faintly as she watched the shift in her daughter’s expression.

"I understand now, Mother." Cersei said, lifting her chin. "You are right - I am a big girl now - And big girls don't cry. Rhaegar would never like me if I was snotty and bratty, after all."

Joanna pressed a final kiss to her brow. "Good girl."

And in that moment, Cersei decided—if she could not have Jaime’s freedom and Y/N's favoritism, she would have the world's respect.

At any cost.

The four little rabbits had become the heart of their small world - And the fourth one was always laying on Lady Joanna's swollen belly, as if to protect her baby and become a symbol of safe birth.

Jaime had taken it upon himself to bring her fresh greens from the kitchens, and even Cersei — Who had been reluctant at first — Would sit beside her mother, gently stroking the little white rabbit’s fur as they talked about the future. It was true, she was jealous thinking there would be another Lannister to be the competitor for her mother's love - But she would teach her sibling some discipline.

And then, the day of the birth came.

Joanna’s cries had echoed through the halls, sending a cold shiver through the children as they waited just beyond the chamber doors, into the garden outside.

Jaime paced restlessly, his hands clenched into fists. He looked at Y/N, who was trembling, mortified - If they marry, he would have to put Y/N through this horror? Was that what being a woman was? Was that how their mother shrieked delivering them also? It was cruel and unfair - He didn't want his mother to go through this - And he didn't want Cersei and Y/N to go through this either.

Cersei sat rigidly on the bench, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her foot tapping anxiously against the floor as she manically petted her rabbit. Y/N, though her hands trembled, kept her voice gentle as she spoke to them - Yet it was wavering and weak. It was the first time the twins saw the perfect rose being shaken and afraid.

"Your mother is strong. She’ll be fine."

Cersei shot her a sharp glare but said nothing. As much as she wanted to snap at her, she didn't have the power to.

Then, at long last, the screaming stopped. Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Jaime reached for Cersei’s hand, squeezing it tight. Y/N bit her lip.

And then— Finally— The door opened.

But it was not Lord Tywin who emerged. It was a Maester.

Jaime and Cersei leapt to their feet at once, searching his face for any sign of relief. Y/N felt her stomach twist as the old man hesitated, adjusting his chain as if weighing his words carefully.

"The child is a boy..." the Maester said at last, subtle tears pooling in his eyes.

Jaime let out a breath. A boy. A little brother. He always wanted a little brother to play with, to protect, to teach. Cersei, however, could care less, and Y/N was deaf to those news. She knew, based on the man's face, something awful happened.

"Lady Joanna, however ... Did not survive the birth."

Silence.

Jaime went pale.

Cersei froze.

Y/N’s heart stopped.

"No." Cersei’s voice was barely a whisper at first, then it grew. "No. No, she—she wouldn’t—"

But the Maester only bowed his head. "Lord Tywin has asked for no disturbances. He is mourning in solitude."

Jaime’s breath hitched, and then he broke in fits of loud sobs; He stumbled back against the wall, his hands covering his face as the first sob tore from his throat.

Cersei stood shaking, her fists trembling at her sides, and then she screamed, and shrieked her lungs out - A raw, ugly sound, filled with fury and heartbreak. She threw herself against the Maester, shoving him back with all the strength her little body could muster.

"You’re lying! She’s not dead! She can’t be��SHE CAN’T BE DEAD!" the old Maester staggered but did not retaliate. Grief destroys people, he knew it all to well, and at such a frail age, no les... ; Cersei spun toward Y/N, eyes burning with tears and rage. "You said she would be fine! YOU LIED TO ME!" Y/N flinched, but before she could say a word, Cersei lunged to attack Y/N, to shake her, to yell in her face, to blame her; Jaime barely had the strength to stop her. He caught her wrists as she swung at Y/N, his sobs breaking between his desperate pleas.

"Cersei, stop... Please..."

But she was too lost in her grief. "I hate you!" she screamed at Y/N, her face contorted in anguish. "I hate all of you! I hate him! That little monster! He killed her! He killed her!"

The little brown rabbit — Joanna’s rabbit — Had been placed in the crib with the newborn, its soft fur brushing against the infant’s tiny hands. Cersei saw it, and something inside her snapped. With a choked cry, she tore away from Jaime’s grasp and ran.

Jaime collapsed to his knees, his face buried in his hands.

And Y/N, stunned, heartbroken, knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his shaking shoulders. She wanted to tell him everything would be alright, but she could not bring herself to lie - Not when she was so deathly afraid of her own fate.

Time, however, waits for no one, they say, and Lady Joanna Lannister's body was burnt, while everyone else had to move on with their lives, just as before.

Casterly Rock’s grand halls felt suffocating under the weight of grief, though its lords and ladies carried on as if nothing had changed. But something had changed — Everything had changed. Lady Joanna Lannister was dead, and in her place was a wailing, red-faced babe who had done nothing to earn his family’s love. Lady Joanna Lannister was dead, and with her, so was the last bit of humanity in Lord Tywin Lannister's heart.

Still, just as previously planned, Princess Martell of Dorne, along with her son and daughter, had arrived not long ago, and their presence brought an unusual warmth to the keep. Oberyn and Elia — young, lively, and utterly unafraid, had made their way through the lion’s den with confidence, their sand-kissed skin and bright Dornish silks standing in stark contrast to the heavy crimson and gold surrounding them.

Cersei had taken it upon herself to guide them through the Rock, though Y/N and Jaime were never far behind, trailing lost lost puppies trying to catch up to her - Or stop her from bringing them to the Lions' cages.

"You must see the monster." Cersei had said, leading them toward the nursery with a cruel glint in her eye. "The beast that took my mother’s life."

Elia hesitated, casting a wary glance at her brother, but Oberyn, always the curious mischief, followed with amusement. It was even better seeing the worried and apprehensive look on Y/N and Jaime, as they looked at each other, though had no clue how to stop the imminent problem that Cersei Lannister was. As beautiful as she was, she was perfectly ruthless.

The nursery was quiet, save for the soft cooing of a wet nurse tending to the infant Tyrion who layed nestled in his crib, with the tiny brown rabbit still curled beside him, twitching its pink nose in sleep.

Cersei wasted no time in dismissing the wet nurse, and showing off her cruelty for the world to see. "Look at him." she sneered, stepping up to the crib and glaring down at the child. "This grotesque little thing, with his misshapen head and his ugly little stubby hands. He should have died instead of her. He has no right to live."

Jaime stiffened beside Y/N, his hand curling into a fist. Y/N swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably as Elia frowned deeply, her hands clasped before her.

"He is just a babe, Cersei." Elia murmured, but Cersei did not hear her, nor did she care to hear. She reached into the crib, her fingers curling around Tyrion’s soft, chubby flesh.

"Cersei, don’t —" Jaime warned, but his sister ignored him. With a sharp squeeze, she took hold of the infant’s tiny prick and pressed, harder and harder, watching as Tyrion’s face scrunched up in agony before he let out a high, piercing wail.

"Cersei, stop!" Y/N gasped, stepping forward, but the golden-haired lioness only pressed harder, her teeth bared in fury.

"You are the reason she is dead!" she hissed at the helpless babe. "You took her from me! You killed her! You should have been strangled in the cradle, you little monster!" Jaime lunged, shoving Cersei back just as Oberyn moved. The black haired Prince grasped her wrist with a firm but careful grip, his dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"He is just a babe." Oberyn said smoothly, though his voice held an undeniable sharpness. "He has done nothing wrong."

Cersei trembled with fury, but she did not pull away. Instead, she tore herself from Jaime’s grasp and stormed from the room without another word.

Silence settled awkwardly between them. The wet nurse hastily returned into the room to sooth the crying Tyrion, rocking him gently in her arms.

Elia exhaled, shaking her head. "I did not think Lord Tywin would allow such cruelty in his house, but I see now that grief can fester in many ways."

Y/N sighed, rubbing her arms as she turned to the Martell siblings. "I apologise sincerely for the way she acted... Cersei, she... She hasn’t been the same since Lady Joanna passed."

"Grief does not excuse cruelty, little rose." Oberyn countered, tilting his head at her. "Though I believe you already know that."

Jaime scowled but said nothing, his jaw tight with emotion. Then, as if the moment had never happened, Oberyn grinned. "Let us not dwell on sadness. I did not come all this way to be scolded by a child who thinks herself queen already."

Y/N blinked, startled by his sudden shift in tone and the boldness of his speech. "Our mother was friends with Lady Joanna, you know." Elia offered, her expression softening. "She had hopes that Oberyn would one day wed Cersei."

Jaime’s brows furrowed. "And now?"

Elia’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Now your Lord Father refuses to even entertain the idea. He says Cersei will only wed a king." Y/N frowned.

"But..." Oberyn cut in with a venomous smirk "He did have a counteroffer."

Elia rolled her eyes. "He suggested I wed your little brother."

Jaime stiffened, and Y/N’s mouth fell open in horror. "Tyrion?" they both gasped in shock.

Elia nodded. "As an insult, no doubt."

"And here I thought Tywin Lannister was known for his tact." Oberyn mused, shaking his head.

Jaime bristled, insulted by the free way the two siblings were talking. "You don’t have to accept it."

"Oh, we would never." Elia assured him with a tired smile.

Oberyn, however, had turned his gaze back to Y/N, his smirk growing playful. "But perhaps I was meant to marry the beautiful rose, not the feisty lioness, after all." he purred, stepping closer to her. "You seem far more interesting than your golden-haired friend; Mother told me only praises of you - The Queen of Thorns raised quite the beauty. "

Y/N’s eyes widened, being rendered speechless, as Jaime immediately stepped between them, scowling. "Don’t be foolish, Martell." Jaime snapped. "She is betrothed to me."

"A tragedy, surely." Oberyn sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. "But not one without its delights — I do enjoy a challenge."

Y/N flushed brightly at the Dornish Prince's boldness, as Jaime sneered further; Elia only laughed. "Do not let him tease you." she told Y/N warmly, taking her hand in hers. "My brother is reckless, but he means well."

Y/N smiled hesitantly. "I shall keep that in mind. Thank you, Princess." she replied, trying not to look at the way Jaime’s hand twitched at his side. For some reason, Elia's hand holding hers made her feel... Warm. It was a special kind of safeness and joy that she only had when playing around with her own sisters. How strange, feeling that with a girl she has only just met.

Oberyn winked. "Good. That makes it all the more fun."

Elia thought her brother was only hell-bent on humiliating the Lannisters, though the little rose proved to be his main source of interest. Was her brother actually interested in a girl to marry, for once? Usually he wasn't so delicate with girls he wanted to charm the skirts off. That night, the two Martell siblings chatted away until they fell asleep - How happy Oberyn was that he no longer had to marry such an awful girl - The mere thought of having to marry Cersei Lannister had him want to drown himself in the Water Gardens.

The two were very close with one another, and hoped to remain that way forever, sharing gossips and indulging in fun adventures together - One of them, of course, being the Tyrell rose - She was such a lovely girl, and so sweet once she actually started speaking to them; No more shyness as before, Y/N was giggling and laughing away with Elia and Oberyn at the feast, indulging in red wine like never before. Both Jaime and Cersei were shocked to see her like that - So free, so easy-going and haughty - She blended in with the two Dornish siblings almost perfectly; No wonder Highgarden and Dorne were so close to one another, the South was so lax and free of rules and regulations.

Y/N sat in front of Elia and Oberyn, between the two Lannister twins, sharing laughter and conversation, while Jaime sat strangely quiet and awkward; Cersei, meanwhile, was very clearly displeased, scowling over her goblet of wine as she watched her only friend bond with Elia in ways that the two of them never did before. What did that Dornish whore have that she didn't? She had black hair and black eyes, and looked average at best - And she wasn't the least bit interesting or special. Elia Martell wasn't a lioness like her - So why was she so much more interesting to Y/N than her?

"And then I met Baelor Hightower - He was a very nice young man - Or at least, that's what I thought. Half in love with him; Very gallant and sweet... That is..." both siblings bent over the table to speak in a hushed tone.

"He farted!" they said in union, making the three of them loud loudly and very peasantly.

"No way! Really?!" Y/N couldn't believe her ears. "That is horrible!"

"Now he is Ser Baelor Breakwind." Oberyn said confidently, making the girl double over laughing.

"I could not look at him anymore without laughing - Poor man!" Elia was crying tears of laughter.

"That sounds hilarious - Truly!" Y/N entertained them so; Jaime tried to laugh a little, but felt ashamed, whereas Cersei continued to drink herself into a jealous drunkness; Why did Y/N never laugh like that around her? Was she not as funny as that ugly peasant girl?

"I must say, Y/N, you remind me so much of home." Elia mused with a warm smile. "We do not often have guests who understand the importance of good company and gossip. All these serious men, always talking of battles and honor."

"Exactly!" Y/N agreed eagerly. "They act as if laughing and enjoying oneself is some kind of crime. But truly, they just don’t know how to have fun."

Elia chuckled, while Oberyn smirked. "That, little flower, is where I come in." he said smoothly, pouring more wine into Y/N’s cup before she could protest. "I am an expert in fun. I could teach you, if you’d like."

Y/N raised a brow at him, amused. "And what exactly would you teach me, my prince?"

"How to live, of course!" Oberyn said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You are too young to be caged in a place like this, burdened with duty. In Dorne, you would be free. No one would make you wed against your will. You would never have to birth heirs if you did not wish to. You could ride where you please, dance when you like, and no one would dare tell you otherwise."

Jaime made a face, finally speaking. "That’s easy to say when you’re not the heir to anything important. Just a second son meant to inherit nothing."

Oberyn laughed, unbothered. "Exactly, little foolish lion. That is the very best part." He turned back to Y/N, eyes twinkling. "I am not the Prince of Dorne, I am merely a prince of Dorne. That means I may do as I please. And if you were to come with me, so would you."

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. "You make it sound so tempting."

"That is because it is." he said, lifting his goblet to his lips, watching the beauty before him with his sparkling gem eyes.

Jaime clenched his jaw, while Cersei rolled her eyes. "You do realize she is to marry Jaime, don’t you?" Cersei said, her voice dripping with smugness. "She is betrothed to my twin. You may flirt all you like, but Y/N belongs to House Lannister. Not Dorne."

Oberyn didn’t even bat an eye. "Is that so?" he mused. He turned to Y/N, a teasing smile on his lips. "And tell me, my lady — Do you wish to belong to House Lannister?"

Y/N hesitated, and said nothing. Suddenly, the fun vanished, and she was placed behind two rocks that could kill her. She glanced at Jaime, who looked more sullen than anything, before shifting her gaze to Cersei — Who very much expected her to say yes.

Y/N sighed, placing down her goblet, sobering up. "My name is Y/N Tyrell, The Rose of the Realm, Lady of House Tyrell of Highgarden, daughter of the Warden of the South, protector of the Reach." she spoke, earning a widening grin from the Prince, who realised just what she was saying - She is her own master, and no one can own her.

"Then take a vacation - Come to Dorne." Oberyn said, resting his chin in his hand as he watched her with loving eyes, completely enamoured by her. "I shall steal you away, and we will see what adventures await you beyond these dull stone halls."

"You cannot steal what is already mine!" Cersei snapped, glaring and slamming her empty goblet on the table.

Oberyn laughed. "Yours? How curious. I see no collar around her neck."

Jaime scowled. "She’s not going anywhere."

"We shall see, little lion. Duty can only get you so far - Dissatisfaction gets you even farther." Oberyn mused, twirling his goblet between his fingers before looking back at Y/N. "If ever you find yourself longing for happiness and warmth, remember — Dorne is always warm, the Water Gardens are always open, and I will always be happy to escort you there myself."

Y/N bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. The thought of walking hand in hand with Oberyn and Elia, and having fun in the Water Gardens actually sounded fantastic. Elia giggled beside her. "You truly are shameless, brother." she said. "Though, I agree - Y/N, I would love it if you visited us someday. We could have so much fun."

"Oh, dear sister, that is not even the half of it." Oberyn winked.

Jaime scowled, Cersei fumed, and Y/N found herself laughing despite it all. It seemed Oberyn Martell had a way of making everything more interesting, the Tyrell girl thought to herself, somewhat blinded by the allure of freedom and hedonism, of a life filled with luxury yet none of the responsibility; The cries and death of Lady Joanna still haunted her, reverbing through every night terror she had;

But could she really forsake it all and run away, just for her own happiness?

The night was still, save for the whisper of the sea far below and the distant hoot of an owl. The candles in Y/N’s chamber had long since burned low, leaving only the glow of the moon spilling through her open balcony doors, along with her restless thoughts and the pain in her heart.

Why was choosing so difficult, she thought to herself, absent-mindedly staring at the ceiling. She wasn't truly betrothed to Jaime, they were far too young, of course - However, her mother and Jaime's mother were good friends, and alliance between their two houses was an outstanding power; Of course, the fact that the two of them got along so well was simply a coincidence, though a much pleasant one.

Yet there she is, racking her brains over a choice - And it wasn't just the illusion of choice that most people lament over - It was a true choice handed to her.

She met Jaime when they were so young, and they got along so well; He was so just and gallant, a true knight in the making, and Y/N was sure he will end up growing into such a strong and righteous man who would treat her right and protect her from any woe...

And then, there was Oberyn Martell, the half-mad Prince of Dorne; Already a young man, older and more experienced than her in both life and romance; He was insane enough to steal her away from the Rock and make her his Princess, lavish her with jewels and flowers and ride together into adventures... Possibly even indulge in hedonism and lust that would make even the most experienced whore ge flustered and blush... And for the first time in her life, Y/N felt excitement in her heart, and restlessness, as if her feet were burning to run with no shoes down the grassy field, so fast that she would end up flying like a cageless bird.

She was so... Bored to death, being the perfect little flower, here in the cold Westerlands; She wanted to go back home in the reach and ride with her sisters and hunt with her brother, to recite poems dramatically and play with her falcon... She wanted to decipher riddles with her mother, and dance and sing with the commonfolk surrounded by flowers of all kinds...

She hadn't realised how much she missed home, until Elia and Oberyn came into her life, reminding her of the sweet memories lingering in her heart, tugging at the strings and shrieking at her to return to her origins, down South where it was warmer and more welcoming.

"Truly, little rose, you ought to lock your doors." a familiar voice was followed by a thud and Y/N's imminent yet adorable squeak of surprise. "Unless, of course, you had been waiting for me, and to that, I would have to apologise for my tardiness. It is unbecoming of me to make such a lovely lady wait."

Y/N turned sharply, only to find Oberyn Martell perched upon her balcony, balanced effortlessly on the rail as if he had all the time in the world. His grin was wicked, his eyes gleaming in the dark. Just like a viper ready to steal her away from this life.

"Ryn...!" she hissed, rushing forward, not sure whether to scold or shush him. "Are you mad? What if someone sees you being an absolute menace, sneaking into my room like that?" though she scolded him, her fingers dug hastily into his disheveled open shirt and pulled him into the room to safety, checking for injuries all over.

"Then they will think I have good taste. I have always been a fan of sweet perfumes." he said easily, holding her hands gingerly. "Come, I have come to steal you away for one last adventure before I must return to the red sands of home."

Y/N crossed her arms, playing defiant. "You think I will just climb out of my own chamber like a common thief? Do you not know it is unlady-like for one of my status - Betrothed, no less - To be roaming around with a bachelor like yourself, in the shroud of mystery and the veil of night?"

Oberyn bent at the waist and offering a suave yet provoking smirk. "Do you need me to carry you, then? Young ladies like yourself truly have high standards these days." she swatted at him with a bratty huff, but he only laughed, catching her wrist and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of it. "Do not make me beg, sweet girl." he murmured against her skin. "Come walk with me one last time, before I must leave you behind in this prison of stone and gold."

"What if I do want you to beg? Would you do that?" with an air of arrogance that clearly wasn't quite working (Oberyn found it quite funny, in fact, how coy she was playing, as opposed to the snobby Cersei and her unbecoming arrogance), Y/N looked away from the Martell prince, as if she wasn't even noticing his presence.

"Aye, but of course, for such a beauty -- " he gallantly went on one knee, holding her hand and kissing her fingers gently. "I would even beg on my knees for favour."

Y/N hesitated. But gods, how could she say no? The Dornish retinue was to leave back to Sunspear the following morning; That was the last time she would be seeing Oberyn in a long time, she was well aware... Denying his offer would make her regret her entire life...

Perhaps, just a little bit of naughtiness couldn't hurt, could it?

With a sigh, she grabbed a cloak from her chair and threw it over her shoulders. "You have earned my time, I suppose..." she cleared her throat as a way to hide the rosy hue of her cheeks.

Oberyn grinned before hopping back to his feet and picking Y/N up like a princess and sneaking through the quiet halls and down into the moonlit gardens, where the scent of roses and lavender filled the cool night air.

For a while, Oberyn didn't want to let Y/N down, and he walked like that just holding her in his arms, as if she was as light as a rose; Though he knew, something was awfully wrong, by the way she was so awfully silent and snuggling into the crook of his neck as if she was nothing more than a baby kitten.

"You are too quiet, little rose." Oberyn said, glancing at her. "What could be ailing that a lovely dove?"

Y/N exhaled. "I..." her voice was as sweet as a whisper. "I am afraid of the power of choice and consequence."

"Ah, thought so." he said, carefully placing her on the ground. "For someone who has lived a pre-determined life, a story already written, to be facing a crossroad with different destinations... Well, I do not envy you, sweet girl." he let out a dry chuckle. "At least you are wise enough to know you deserve better than to be shackled by duty."

"Duty is all I have ever known." she admitted. "And the love of my parents, who wish for me to live a happy life bound to a man who would care for me as if I was a porcelain doll."

Oberyn’s playful expression softened. "What great parents you have, sweet rose." he said, stepping in front of her and twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. "And between duty and love, what is it that truly terrifies you?"

She swallowed. "What terrifies me is the intersection between duty and love." she hesitated, her voice faltering.

Oberyn, ever perceptive, filled in the blanks. "You are afraid of childbirth." he murmured, watching with gentle eyes as Y/N looked away, her hands tightening in her cloak with great shame. "I know. Elia told me." he continued, his voice ever darling. "To be afraid, and to be unable to speak it out, in fear of snubbing and judgement. You are not the first, nor the last woman in such position - And once again, I do not envy your position." his rough hand was warm, caressing her delicate face. "Men are simple creatures - We get drunk, we get our cock buried deep in some pretty woman, and we run to war." he picked her chin, raising it up. "I do not claim to be a saint. I will not lie to you - I am as much of a whore as the girls in the brothel, except I don't get paid. I like women, and I like men, the same as I like to shed blood and kill. If you marry me, I will not promise you faithfulness, but I can promise you safety, luxury and understanding. I do not require children of you, nor will I ever." his other hand sneaked around her waist, pulling her closer to his body.

"Then why... Are you doing this...?" her voice was so soft that he almost didn't hear her; A good question - One which made him chuckle, looking down into those sparkling eyes of her, gleaming in the silver light of the moon.

"Not from the goodness of my heart, nor from selflessness, of course." he joked. "Not only did Elia like you very much - But you are also a beauty that has intrigued me so."

"Beauty is not what captivated you, Ryn." his smile widened.

"Not alone, true, though it paid a good part in it." he said. "Truth is, you are what Elia would have been, if she weren't so sick. Now, don't get me wrong, I haven't gotten smitten with you because you remind me of my sister - I am not those foolish lion cubs - But you are... Just like a little kitten, trying to look all cute and graceful, but you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to run around hunting mice and scratching the drapes to ribbons."

"Are you calling me a mischief, Ryn? My, how unbecoming of me - I have become haughty!" she tried to laugh it off, but it caused no effect.

Oberyn looked down at the girl, and his smile softened. "Your heart belongs to Jaime Lannister, doesn't it?" she remained silent as she averted her sight away from him. "Thought so. He is the dream of every little lady, isn't he? A gallant knight to take care of the fair lady."

Y/N looked at him then — Truly looked. The way the moonlight kissed his sun-bronzed skin, the way his dark hair framed his sharp features. He was beautiful, and he was tempting.

But her heart was torn.

"Jaime... He... He is not like Cersei." her breath was hitched in her throat. "He... Is very kind with me, and very sweet. He is genuine... And a little dumb sometimes, but not in a bad way. I mean... He is very... Innocent and pure. He is... Like a ray of sunshine. That's how I see him... And when he smiles... When he is happy, he... He is just so..."

Oberyn studied her for a long moment before letting out a small sigh. "What a lucky lad." he said. "I've heard enough, sweetling. No need to tease me more, I understand your heart better than you do." he said, pulling her closer. "Just know, if the lions ever forget their place, and you find yourself feeling all alone, that half of my bed shall remain empty only for you, and that I will marry no woman but you." hearing such a bold statement, Y/N tried to protest - Except, she was hushed instantly.

"And if I never do?" she asked, almost terrified to know the answer.

Oberyn’s fingers brushed her cheek. "Then I shall mourn the loss of my sweetest dream." she felt her heart clench, and gleaming crystal tears started stinging her eyes. "Now, now, sweet girl, don't cry over me - Instead, let me teach you one little trick that you can use on that fool, to see if he truly loves you."

"Wh-What...?" the girl stammered over her words, unable to understand his meaning.

"When you get bold enough to go for a kiss, do this --" he cupped her face carefully, making her look him in the eyes. "Look into his eyes, and see deep into his soul - Don't ask me to explain, you will understand when it happens - And then... Lean in slowly..." his lips captured her soft ones, as pink and soft as the petals of a flower, and sweeter than anyone he's ever tasted before. He was going crazy, his body felt hot and his hands wanted to grip her body and feel her skin; He was suffocating with love and lust all over. "... you will know."

He observed the small pants of her breath, and the sparkle of her eyes as she looked up at him as if she'd seen the Gods. He knew - And now, so did she.

"Yes." she breathed out. "I do know, now." and before she could stop herself, she reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, embroidered handkerchief. "Here..." she said, pressing it into his hand. "Something to remember me by."

Oberyn glanced down, fingers tracing over the intricate golden suns stitched into the soft fabric. His lips quirked, twitching into a smile. "Ah. You wound me, little flower — This will only make me miss you more."

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was as soft as it was fleeting. It was not a kiss of conquest, nor of demand. It was a kiss of promise. Of something unfinished. Of reunion, not of confession like the one before.

When he pulled away, he sighed. "Ah, if only I had met you first."

Y/N smiled, though her eyes were misty. "Goodbye, Oberyn."

He smirked, stepping back into the shadows. "Not forever, sweet girl. Just for now." and with that, he was gone, leaving her alone in the garden, clutching her lips, and wondering if fate was truly so cruel.

That night, she did not sleep - Instead, she pondered over his words - Now, she knows - Yes, she knows, Oberyn's feelings for her; She felt those through that kiss; He was genuine, he was true. And he, also, knows her feelings for him - Though, he knows her heart better than even she, and he knew, she loved Jaime, not him. How peculiar love is - An emotion she does not comprehend as well as she thought she did.

Perhaps that mattered little - The sweet dream will be over in the morn, and with it, so will the reverie. Oberyn and Elia will be back in Dorne, and Jaime will be going away from the Rock for his training as a squire; That meant Y/N was finally free to return home where she was happiest and safest, away from problems and responsibilities - And away from the love confusion she created for herself.

Tywin Lannister's ambitions remain big, and for Prince Viserys' birth, he hosted a tourney at Lannisport; Once again, Y/N and the twins were inseparable as they watched the jousting and cheered for the finest knights;

Of course, Cersei was completely head over heels in love, watching Prince Rhaegar Targaryen winning joust after joust, defeating the likes of Tywin's finest knights - And even the renowned Barristan the Bold! Everyone was cheering for the Young Dragon -- Only for him to lose to the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne - That is when Jaime started cheering the hardest; He worshiped Ser Dayne more than anything - And he wanted to become just like him.

Of course, the Crown Prince was then knighted, and Cersei couldn't stop babbling about her supposed future husband - Her aunt, Lady Genna, had told her their betrothal will be announced at the feast, and she was so excited to marry such a gorgeous and strong Prince!

Thoughts of Jaime were no longer in her head - Y/N can have Jaime, for all she cares - As long as she has Rhaegar Targaryen, she was happy;

That night, Cersei climbed into Y/N's bed, shaking her awake. "Don't you dare sleep, Y/N. I've got plans for us." she said, before dragging Y/N, along with her other two bedmaids, Melara and Jeyne, towards the forest, at the tent of the witch, Maggy the Frog.

The air was thick with the scent of damp moss and rotting leaves, the distant hoot of an owl cutting through the quiet as four cloaked figures slipped through the trees. The tourney grounds were far behind them now, the laughter of revelers and the clang of steel lost to the whispering night.

"We shouldn't have left the camp." one of the bedmaids muttered. "If we’re caught — "

"We won’t be caught." Cersei interrupted sharply. "Unless you keep whining and get us lost."

"Uh... Cersei...? Are you sure you know what you're doing...?" Y/N wasn't particularly afraid, rather, she was confused and uncomfortable at the idea of seeking fortune from an old crone. She was never superstitious, and she believed people forge their own fates - However, there was a little bit of a gnawing thought at the back of her head, screaming at her to run away.

"Don't be a craven, Y/N. We'll get your prophecy also. Now hush - Get inside." the lioness spat, shoving Y/N further.

Ahead, nestled between gnarled trees, was a crooked tent, its thatched roof sagging as though burdened by centuries of secrets. The only light came from within, flickering behind crude shutters. Y/N felt the chill before they even stepped inside.

Cersei was the first to push through the sheer leather door. A sickly-sweet aroma of herbs and decay clung to the air. Maggy the Frog expecting them.

Her skin was sallow, her lips shriveled, her eyes like frog slits in a face wrinkled and worn by time and warts. She was seated behind a battered table, three bowls of some dark, viscous liquid set before her.

The girl with the golden curls put her hands upon her hips. "Give us our foretelling, or I'll go to my Lord Father and have you whipped for insolence."

"Please..." begged Melara. "Just tell us our futures, then we'll go."

"Some are here who have no futures-" Maggy muttered in her terrible deep voice. She pulled her robe about her shoulders and beckoned the girls closer. "Come, if you will not go. Fools. Come, yes. I must taste your blood."

Melara paled, but not Cersei. A lioness does not fear a frog, no matter how old and ugly she might be. She should have gone, she should have listened, she should have run away. Instead she took the dagger Maggy offered her, and ran the twisted iron blade across the ball of her thumb. Then she did Melara too.

In the dim green tent, the blood seemed more black than red. Maggy's toothless mouth trembled at the sight of it. "Here..." she whispered. ".... give it here." when Cersei offered her hand, she sucked away the blood with gums as soft as a newborn babe's. Y/N looked with disgust, her body cringing away from the sight.

"Three questions may you ask." the crone said, once she'd had her drink. "You will not like my answers. Ask, or begone with you."

But Cersei was unrelenting and ever confident. "When will I wed the prince?" she asked.

"Never. You will wed the king."

Beneath her golden locks, the girl's face wrinkled up in puzzlement. Did that mean she will marry Prince Rhaegar after King Aerys died? Was he ill? Was that why her father and aunt told her about the betrothal so soon? "I will be queen, then?" asked the girl again.

"Aye." malice gleamed in Maggy's citrine yellow eyes. "Queen you shall be... Until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear." Y/N was sure she had heard that in some fable sung by a bard at a tavern. There was no way that was true, she thought to herself, rolling her eyes. Far too unspecific.

Anger flashed across Cersei's face. "If she tries I will have my brother kill her." wrathful as she was, she still had one more question due her, one more glimpse into her life to come. "Will the king and I have children?" she asked.

"Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you."

That made no sense to Cersei. Her thumb was throbbing where she'd cut it, and her blood was dripping on the carpet. How could that be? she wanted to ask, but she was done with her questions. She looked at Y/N, who looked back at her - She was just as confused, yet held a solemn look on her face. She must be sensing something amiss.

The old woman was not done with her, however. "Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds." she said. "And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you."

"What is a valonqar? Some monster?" the golden girl did not like that foretelling. "You're a liar and a warty frog and a smelly old savage, and I don't believe a word of what you say." Cersei huffed in anger, stomping her foot on the ground before grabbing Y/N's hand.

Y/N was silent, and she looked at her golden friend with a pondering look. "You got us all the way here to hear your future, but you are not happy with it." came her cold reply. "Granted, I agree with you - Everything the witch has foretold sounded like nothing more than the stories old nan used to tell us when we were nothing but babes. Fairy tales and bard songs for children who love dreaming. Nothing specific to you, nor something that could prove her craft." no, she was lying, and by the ugly grin on the witch's face, she knew she was found out. "Witch Maggy, my name is Y/N of house Tyrell. I shall give you blood, so in return, grant me three questions. Fair exchange?"

The old woman grinned disgustingly. "As fair as a deal can be, little rose." she tapped her fingers together with enthuse, watching the young lady cut her finger and offering her blood for her to lick off. "Mhh, sweet blood, like a flower's honey. Your answers might be more to your liking than your friends' over there." she let out a broken cackle. "Ask away, ask away."

"Here is an easy one - Like any lady, I am interested - Who will I marry?" Y/N stood tall, eyeing the old witch for her response. She knew best what was in her heart, what was in her life - Any bit of specifics, she will know.

The witch inhaled deeply. Then she exhaled a long, slow breath — One that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. "Two men shall claim your hand - A red viper, swift and deadly; A golden lion, valiant and proud" she foretold. "One shall dance under the red Sun, while the other will sing under the golden Moon." that... Sure was cryptic enough, Y/N thought to herself; It wasn't difficult to guess the two people involved, though the cause of it sure was mysterious.

"Will I have any children?" came her most feared question,

"Your womb shall be as the winter earth — cold, barren, untouched by spring. No babe shall suckle at your breast. No heir shall cry your name."

Her breath hitched. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or fear curling around her ribs. Y/N's hands trembled, along with her heart. Would a husband cast her aside for this? Would she be tossed away like a withered rose, unwanted and forgotten?

She felt Cersei’s fingers curl around her wrist, nails biting into her skin. Cersei was smiling, albeit, bitterly.

"Poor Y/N." she murmured, feigning pity. "No children for you. No little lions. No legacy." even better, Cersei thought to herself - If Jaime and Y/N don't have children, they can't have reason to return to the Rock and leave her alone in King's Landing.

She was pleased - And Y/N knew very well why. Cersei was never as smart as she was, nor did she listen to her father's words when he told her so. Pity.

"Why will I have to marry a second time?" came the last question.

"The viper shall topple over the mountain, yet perish beneath its weight." Y/N frowned at the thought of Oberyn dying, thought she couldn't comprehend why. "You, who shall free the lion of its shackles, shall lead the pride."

Cersei's hand squeezed Y/N's so hard that she thought it would shatter. "Go now, little flower." Maggy crooned. "And remember… All prophecy is a curse, for it binds those who seek to escape it."

"I get three questions too!" Melara's meek voice squeaked out, and when Cersei and Jeyne tugged upon her arm, she wriggled free and turned back to the crone. "Will I marry Jaime?" she blurted out.

You stupid girl, Cersei thought, angry at the idea - She could live with Jaime marrying Y/N, provided they stand by her side - But Melara? Jaime does not even know you are alive, you dumb broad. Jaime lives only for swords and dogs and horses... And for her and Y/N.

"No, you absolute idiot - Did you not hear? Jaime - My betrothed - Shall marry me." Y/N rolled her eyes at her idiocy; "If you want to marry Jaime, you first have to let him know you exist, you lowborn fool." it wasn't often that Y/N spat out such vile insults - It even surprised Cersei, who felt proud of her.

"B-But... I-I... I loved him...!" there were defiant tears in her eyes.

"Hush now, Mel, no need to get upset. There are plenty of pretty boys for our status." Jeyne tried to sooth her friend,

"Not Jaime, nor any other man." said Maggy. "Worms will have your maidenhead. Your death is here tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close."

"The only breath we smell is yours." said Cersei. There was a jar of some thick potion by her elbow, sitting on a table. She snatched it up and threw it into the old woman's eyes.

Y/N stumbled back from, Cersei pulling her away, and they ran away into the cold night air, followed by Melara and Jeyne. Once they got back to the retinue, Jeyne sneaked back to her chambers, pretending she never even knew the existence of a witch.

Melara, however... Wasn't as lucky.

"What gives you the right to marry Jaime, and not me?" the poor idiot dared to speak back to Y/N, making both the flower and the lioness look back at her with terrifying eyes. "I love Jaime - Truly, I do! More than you ever will!" her declaration was bold and false. "You just marry him for wealth and status - Besides - What good are you to the future heir of Casterly Rock when you are a failure as a woman and cannot birth him heirs?!"

"It would serve you well to shut your mouth, Melara. If my Lord Father hears about the treason you are spewing, he would sear your tongue off himself." Y/N wasn't expecting Cersei, of all people, to side with her - But in a morbid way, she was enjoying it. "Besides, my brother loves Y/N - Everyone knows that. There is no competition - Especially not from some peasant girl like you. You should count your blessings that we even know your name at all. Clearly you don't deserve even that much grace."

"You are a vile, manipulative, evil liar!" Melara shouted, backing away in tears. "You don't speak for Jaime! I want to hear it from his mouth, not yours! He is gallant and just and fair - Unlike you two!"

"Melara." Y/N stepped forward with such morbid elegance that it resembled a ghost. Melara's blood froze in her veins and was unable to stop Tyrell's hands from wrapping around her neck. "Can you smell the stench of death?" she asked, pushing her backwards, towards the well. "Because you reek of it."

"LET ME GO! HELP, SOMEBODY---"

But it was too late; Once Cersei leaped to help her friend, she slapped her hand over Melara's hand and together, they pushed her down her well, to her doom.

"At least we know the witch was right about one prophecy." Y/N grumbled, dusting herself off. "I guess this remains our little secret." she said, offering the lioness her pinky finger.

"It has always been the two of us, Y/N. In duty and in joy." the lioness smiled, hooking her pinky to her friend's. With this crime committed, they were ever closer - Closer than they've ever been before - Closer than that Dornish whore would ever hope to be to her best and only friend.

And thus, they shared a secret that will be their forever, until the dawn of time - Though Y/N refused to tell Cersei she knew the meaning of the word 'valonqar' ; She didn't want to make her hate poor Tyrion even more than she already did, though she was sure it was inevitable, with how she blamed Joanna's death on him. She shall never change.

Before long, Jaime was no longer a squire, but a knight, sered by no other than Ser Arthur Dayne himself - His greatest honour, he must be so proud, Y/N thought to herself with immense joy, as she waited his return in King's Landing; By now, Y/N had also remained in King's Landing to be Elia Martel's lady in waiting as she married Prince Rhaegar, much to Cersei's dismay, having to live three years in the castle, only the watch the man you fell in love with, marry and sire children with the Dornish whore who wanted to steal both her brother and her best friend.

She deserved to die, like sickly ugly thing.

Alas, that idiot, Y/N, was taking good care of her, even after the birth of their first child, Princess Rhaenys. What an ugly, squalling thing. HER children would never be that disgusting and loud.

Cersei was livid - She felt invisible to even her only friend, as though she did not matter anymore. How could she not? She was Cersei Lannister - There was no way that sand bitch was better than her. She deserved to die. She deserved to perish in a most brutal and torturous way.

Y/N was hers. ONLY hers. And so do Jaime and Rhaegar.

All three of them shall be hers, one way or another, even if she had to topple over the mountains and drain the oceans.

Thus came her brilliant idea - When Jaime was to return to King's Landing, they would meet up at an old inn, and she would bewitch him into a scheme; A most clever scheme, of which even her father would be proud - A scheme that would ensure both Y/N and Jaime remain by her side forever and ever and ever.

aime found Cersei waiting for him in the high tower, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. Her beauty was sharper than a blade, her smile as knowing as a cat’s. She had summoned him, and as always, he came.

"Jaime." she murmured, stepping closer, her fingers trailing up his arm. "You are finally the knight you've always dreamt to be. Congratulations to you." she said, drawing closer to him. "You must be happy - Thrilled, even. Thrilled enough to spend the night with your fair lady, perhaps?" she purred into his ear. "Or... You would rather have me, the one who loves you most in this world? The one to whom your soul is bound for life and death?"

"I..." Jaime blinked, his head hung, feeling a little dazed. "I wanted to tell Y/N. She's been waiting for me all this time. I want to make her proud - To make her happy. She's encouraged and supported me so long... I..."

Cersei’s lips pressed together, displeasure flashing in her green eyes. But she smoothed it away, tilting her head as if in sympathy.

"Then you are happy with the marriage?" she asked. "To be tied to her? To live your days as Lord of Casterly Rock, ruling, scheming, passing dull judgments while your wife bears you children embroiders handkerchiefs?"

Jaime hesitated. When she put it like that... Being a Lord did not sound quite as exciting as he thought it would... But he had so much fun with Y/N as a child - Life with her couldn't ever be dull... Right?

"That’s not what you dreamed of, is it?" she pressed, her voice a whisper now, close enough that he could smell the perfume on her skin — Flowers and oils, intoxicating. "You wanted to be a knight. A true knight."

Jaime swallowed. "I am a knight."

"Are you?" she breathed. "Not yet. Not like Ser Arthur Dayne, not like Ser Barristan Selmy. Their names will be sung for a thousand years. Will yours?" Jaime stiffened, the words cutting deeper than he expected.

"You have always wanted to be like them - And Y/N knows this. She's a good girl. She will understand. You are a golden lion like no other - You were made for glory and fame." she continued, stroking his cheek, peppering him with poison kisses. "And now you can. You are already the youngest knight in the realm, but imagine—" she smiled, and gods, how beautiful she was when she smiled. "—if you became the youngest Kingsguard in history."

His breath caught. "You could stand beside the greatest knights in the realm, your greatest deeds written in that stupid book they have for the Kingsguard members." she murmured. "Ride with them, fight with them, be one of them. And when people speak of the Kingsguard, they will not just name Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy. They will name you, Jaime Lannister, the Lion of the Rock, the youngest ever knight to be cloaked in white."

The thought sent a thrill through him. "And best of all..." Cersei continued. "You will be at my side, always. Protecting me, watching over me. No matter who I wed, we will be together in King’s Landing. The same goes for your sweet Y/N - She won't leave that bitch's side any time soon; She will remain here, in King's Landing all the same. You can bed her from time to time, whenever you miss her. Surely, she misses you by now."

Jaime looked away, his jaw tightening. "Or..." she purred, stepping around him, her fingers gliding over his chest. "You could move to Casterly Rock, all alone and away from the battlefield; Watch Y/N wed you in duty, not love. Watch her bear your children, but keep her heart locked away, because it is no longer yours."

Jaime frowned. "What are you saying?" there was no way -- The Y/N he knew held his heart, and he held hers.

Cersei’s lips curled in mock sympathy. "Oh, Jaime, you don’t see it? Oberyn Martell stole her heart the moment he laid eyes on her." she leaned in, whispering. "Do you remember that day, when the retinue came to our home? Did you forget the way she smiled at him? How she blushed under his gaze? How easily they spoke, laughed, like they had known each other all their lives?"

Jaime’s stomach twisted. "Do you think she would have embroidered a handkerchief for you?" Cersei murmured, tilting her head. "She gave him something to remember her by. She let him kiss her. And now he’s gone, off to Dorne, taking a piece of her with him." she continued with her vile tongue. "Did you know - Whenever that Dornish snake comes to visit his sand whore of a sister, he always spends the night in Y/N's chambers?"

Jaime clenched his fists. "But it doesn’t have to matter." Cersei said, drawing his face to hers. "Because you have me - And I would never betray you. We are twins, after all, are we not? If we cannot trust each other - Than who can we trust?"

Her lips hovered close — Too close.

"Father knows of the Martel Prince and Y/N; I heard him speaking to the Tully Lord about changing your betrothal to Lysa Tully - That oversized fat cow, remember? You don't want that, do you?" Jaime's look was that of sheer and utter disgust. "Come to King’s Landing, Jaime. Join the Kingsguard. Take the white cloak, become the knight you always dreamed of. And at night, when the castle sleeps, you will find your way to me, and I will be yours, as I have always been. Let father have his legacy. Let Y/N pine for the Dornish Prince..." Cersei rose her skirts and undid his breeches, sitting on his lap. "... or fuck the Dorne out of her mind. It is all the same. The three of us - We belong together; She's just lost her way, surely... I have heard those Martels have magic blood - They must have bewitched poor Y/N. We must bring her back to us, show her the way. She is one of us. We cannot lose her."

Her fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently. "The three of us belong together. That is the only truth that matters." Jaime closed his eyes, torn between reason and desire. Between honor and love. "Join the Kingsguard, and you can have it all." Cersei eased into him, and the young knight lost all reason.

"I shall join the Kingsguard."

But that was a decision he had to talk with his betrothed; In secret, he visited Y/N's chambers, late at night. Sneaking out, they go into the gardens, away from prying eyes - Though Y/N, most of all, is well aware of the whispers and gossips of the palace. Nowhere was safe.

The night air was thick with the scent of lemon trees and jasmine, the gardens of the Red Keep bathed in the silver light of the moon. The hum of crickets filled the silence, a peaceful contrast to the endless courtly games within the castle walls.

Y/N wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she stepped cautiously over the cobbled path. A warm hand caught hers, steadying her. "Careful." Jaime murmured, his voice quiet yet filled with familiar warmth.

She smiled softly up at him, her fingers curling against his palm before she let go. "You’ve changed." she observed, tilting her head. "You stand taller, prouder." she beamed at him. "You have become a true man."

Jaime grinned, glancing down at his freshly knighted hands, as though seeing them for the first time. "Ser Arthur Dayne knighted me himself." he admitted, voice laced with pride. "I want to be like him, Y/N. A true knight, one whose name will be remembered long after I am gone."

"The Sword of the Morning himself. What an honour." there was something bright in his gaze, something fierce and determined, but beneath it lay a quiet doubt. A hesitation he had yet to voice.

Y/N turned toward him fully, taking in the golden-haired boy who had been her closest friend since childhood. "You always wanted to be a knight." she said softly. "And now you are one." yet his nervousness was clear to the girl. "... A knighthood isn't enough for you, is it? You want more." Jaime's eyes widened in shock, and he looked away towards the walls of the Red Keep - Looming, suffocating. "You want to join the Kingsguard, don't you?"

The words sent a pang through his chest. "How did you know?"

"I have suspected that for a few years now, to be fair." she smiled sweetly at him. "You are brave and just, just like Ser Barristan the Bold and Ser Arthur Dayne - Both of which belong to the Kingsguard. The finest knights of the realm - The protectors of the people."

"You think... I am like them?" the golden lion had an almost boyish wonder in his eyes, flattered yet almost afraid to inquire for more.

"Ever since I have known you, yes, I have thought you were going to become a knight worthy of the greatest stories..." Y/N looked down with a sad smile. "Even if that meant you could never hold love for me, the same way I love you."

"Y/N..." he whispered out her name, his arms shooting up instinctually to hold her, but then he stopped abruptly. "I... I am sorry, I... I just..."

"That's alright. I understand." Y/N offered him a smile - It looked bittersweet and heartbroken. "I have been trying to come to peace with the idea for a while now. I did not expect you would be knighted so soon, truly - I thought I would still have your love for a few more years, maybe even marry first before you got to make that decision..." he remained quiet, frozen in place. "Alas..."

"Forgive me." he whispered. "I truly love you, Y/N." he confessed. "I love you with all my heart - I swear I do - I really do. You mean everything to me, I---"

"Hush now. You are a man, you must not fumble over your words like that." Y/N let out an amused breath. "Don't worry about me. Worry about your father. He will go mad when he hears your decision."

"Well... I suppose..." he gulped, looking down.

"Your sister must be happy. She will have you by her side all the time. Protecting her." Jaime looked at her, as if caught with a lie.

"I... Don't know what to say..." he admitted shamefully. "You... Are right. Both times, you are right." and she was right in silently deducing it was Cersei's ploy all the same, he realised.

Y/N was silent for a moment. She inhaled deeply, steadying her thoughts, her heart. There was a time when she believed her life and Jaime’s would be forever entwined, that they would grow old together, ruling over Casterly Rock - That future was fading like a dying ember. Just like Maggy the Frog said.

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"If this is what you truly want, Jaime." she said, her voice a whisper, "Then I will always stand by you and support you every step of the way."

Jaime’s breath hitched, his gaze snapping to hers. "You will?" he asked, bewildered by her loving tone. He thought she would be mad, hysterical, sobbing - But... Her reaction... Hurt him even more. She was as kind and loving with him as he remembers... What has he done?

"Of course." She smiled, warm and steady, despite the ache in her heart. "No matter where you go, no matter what you choose, my heart will always be yours. Even if we are not bound by marriage, even if our paths diverge. I will love you all the same."

Jaime blinked, as though trying to process the weight of her words. "Y/N…" His voice was unsteady.

"You are kind, Jaime." she continued, her eyes soft as she traced his features. "You are brave, and righteous, and good. You are a knight in the truest sense of the word, and I am proud of you." she held his hands, squeezing them dearly. "Do not let the world change who you are, my love."

Jaime exhaled sharply, almost as if the praise pained him. His fingers curled around hers, holding on as though she was an anchor in the storm of his thoughts. For so long, he had been told he was nothing without Cersei, that no one else would love him the way she did. But here was Y/N, looking at him with unwavering warmth, with admiration that was not manipulative, nor possessive. Just genuine, pure devotion.

"You deserve happiness, Jaime." she whispered. "And if this is what makes you happy, then I will not stand in your way."

Jaime opened his mouth, but no words came. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, Cersei’s voice echoed—"She loves Oberyn. She has already chosen another."

But looking at Y/N now, standing before him with all the tenderness in the world, he knew — Cersei had lied. All this time, she had lied.

Jaime swallowed thickly, his grip on Y/N’s hand tightening, unable to let go.

"I should return." she said softly. "Elia will wonder where I am." Jaime nodded stiffly. "Before I go - May I ask for one single favour?"

"O-Of course. Anything for you." he declared whole-heartedly.

She reacher her finger up, brushing away a stray tear from his emerald eye. "Do not cry, Jaime Lannister - It was your decision. Do not regret it now." she said with a playful smile. "I will teach you a little trick - To see if someone truly loves you." she giggled, remembering her late-night lesson.

"Wh-What...?" the boy stammered over his words, unable to understand his meaning.

"When you get bold enough to go for a kiss, do this --" she cupped her face carefully, making him look her in the eyes. "Look into her eyes, and see deep into her soul - Don't ask me to explain, you will understand when it happens - And then... Lean in slowly..." her soft lips captured his chapped ones, rough and broken by the wind, yet sweet and plump like no other. She was going crazy, her body felt hot and her hands wanted to grip his body and feel his skin; She was suffocating with love and lust all over. "... you will know."

Y/N observed the small pants of his breath, and the sparkle of his eyes as he looked down at her as if he'd seen the Gods. Shee knew - And now, so did he.

"Yes..." he breathed out. "I do know, now." realisation blasted him like a brick in the head, striking his heart with a crossbow arrow - That kiss meant to him more than what he and Cersei had shared just a few hours previous. The lies she told him, just to keep him closer to her... Was it all worth it? Was it worth giving away Y/N's sweet love, for honour and fame and glory, and his twin's bed?

Y/N reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, embroidered handkerchief. "Here..." she said, pressing it into his hand. "Something to remember me by." it was embroidered with a golden lion among flowers, the same handkerchief she made years ago as she was watching him spar. She only worked on that when he was sparring, he remembers. He truly can't believe she held onto that...

"I shall be seeing you around, Jaime. I am wishing you only the best in the world." she turned around, pulling her hood on. "I love you." and she faded into the darkness.

As he stood there, alone in the gardens, he felt a hollow ache settle deep within him. For the first time, he wondered if he had made a terrible mistake.

Cersei's plan, however, did not go as smoothly as she'd hoped, for Tywin Lannister saw Jaime joining the Kingsguard a slight from the King against him - First, he refused having Jaime as a squire and Cersei and the Crown Prince's Consort, and now, he wants to take away his own heir; Cersei was taken back to the Rock, while Jaime was all alone in King's Landing... All alone, with Y/N. All alone, to witness the madness that everyone was whispering about.

The Madness of King Aerys Targaryen, second of his name.

He witness the King growing more paranoid by the minute, suspecting his own servants, his own family of treason; He had honorable knights and lords killed with Wildfire right in front of him, and Jaime's heart shattered with each of them. He became disillusioned, broken and disappointed - This wasn't what he wanted to become - Protector of a mad man who massacred the people he was supposed to rule over.

There was only so much he could 'Go away inside', as Ser Gerold Hightower taught him, and in turn, he also would teach others; And when he witnessed the unfair executions of both Lord Rickard Stark and his heir, Brandon, he felt goosebumps all over his skin, and bile coming into his mouth.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Yet in spite of all this, what hurt the most was not the lost promise of a legacy, nor the fact that Cersei was no longer with him, or that the King chose him not for his skill, but to spite his father --

No.

What hurt the most was seeing how terrified Y/N was every day of her life.

He had to guard outside the chamber whenever the King would want to bed the Queen - And Y/N, also, would await just outside, to tend to the Queen afterwards; Each time, she would tremble more, would cry more, would melt and wither away... And he felt all the same.

Hearing the cries of agony coming from Queen Rhaella as she was bitten and mauled and clawed by her own husband during what should have been a most sweet and intimate act between two lovers...

Seeing Y/N in such a state hurt his heart, but hearing her describe the Queen's torture and the marks on her body, her suffering, at the hands of her own husband... It hurt just as much.

"We are the Kingsguard - We protect the Realm, the people... That includes the Queen also, doesn't it?" he asked once - A pure and innocent question, that of a young lad, Ser Hightower said.

"Just 'Go away inside', young man. We swore a vow to protect the King, not to judge him. As much as it pains me to say, we have to protect the Queen, aye - But not from the King himself, we cannot." it wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It wasn't just. It wasn't how it was supposed to be.

No man should ever hurt his woman. No Lord should ever hurt his Lady. No King should ever hurt his Queen.

Y/N stood in the dimly lit hallway, supporting her weight by leaning on the cold stone walls just outside the Queen’s chambers. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt incense, masking the stench of blood and fear that lingered behind the great doors.

Jaime stood beside her, on the other side of the door, his newly polished armor gleaming in the torchlight, but his face was pale, his jaw clenched tight, trying to fade away into the old memory of a happy life - The dream of a happy future with Y/N - A future that he threw away down the river with his own two hands.

From inside, muffled cries echoed through the stone walls — Queen Rhaella’s cries was reverbring through the cold halls like a tidal wave meant to drown the castle.

Jaime’s hands curled into fists. He had seen battle. He had trained with the best knights in the realm. But this? This was something else entirely. He was not prepared for this kind of brutality, nor did he want to be. Not when he had a duty to protect, and he was unable to.

Y/N stood stiffly, her hands trembling at her sides, wrinkling her skirts. Jaime could see it now — Truly see it. The way she clenched her teeth to keep her lips from quivering. The way her breathing was shallow, controlled. The side of Y/N that he'd never imagined he would see - Y/N, terrified, petrified out of her wits. And she had every reason to be. She was there where the Starks were killed. She was there when the Queen was abused. She was there when so many were burnt alive. The horrors, the crimes, the atrocities committed by the King himself - She had seen them all, in the past years since she's been at the court.

"Y/N…" he whispered her name, making her flinch at the sound of his voice, her shoulders tensing before she slowly turned to him. Her eyes — Gods, her doe eyes — Were wide, filled with unspoken terror and pooling with tears threatening to fall. How pitiful, how terrible.

"It’s alright." he murmured, reaching for her hand without thinking. She took it, fingers cold as ice. "Just try to Go away inside. It's the only way I manage to cope."

The Queen’s cries grew louder. Jaime swallowed, his grip on Y/N’s hand tightening. He had always thought her brave - Oft times, braver than him, but now, he understood — Her bravery had never been the absence of fear. It had been enduring it, despite the horror.

And he hated it. He hated that she had to endure this. He wanted to promise her that she will be safe in his arms, that he would protect her from any danger, that everything will be alright...

Not for the first time, he questioned everything - The Kingsguard. The vows. The honor he had been taught to uphold. What good was a sword if it could not protect the ones who needed it most?

As Y/N trembled beside him, Jaime made yet another oath, though this one was personal, made by his heart - No matter what, he would protect her - Even if it meant breaking all the other vows he had taken before.

The door was slammed open, and the King exited the chambers - He looked at Jaime and Y/N and let out a disgusting snarl. "Hands off the maidens, Lannister - You swore a vow to keep your cock dry like the deserts of Dorne." he pushed the lion away from the girl. "And you - Do you revere me so much that you tear up at the mere sight of my excellency? Ha!" he aggressively grabbed her jaw, squeezing it tightly, his long claw-like nails digging into her soft cheeks. "If you want something, get on your knees and worship my cock, just like your ancestors did before, you little Tyrell whore." he let out a gargled cackle, before pushing her to the ground and walking away. "Tag along, Lannister - You have to guard me as I take a piss."

Angered beyond belief, Jaime was forced to peer his eyes away from the tearful Y/N who picked herself off the ground and forced herself to get inside the Queen's chambers to tend to her. Reluctantly, he followed the mad king, listening to his awful insults of poor Y/N and the disgusting things he'd do to her;

This man wasn't meant to be King - This man wasn't even a man anymore. He was an outright monster, the nightmare that old nan told them when they were little children. Vile, uncouth, unworthy scum.

As the Lannister Knight was forced to hear the mad man's rant for longer that night, Y/N swiftly returned to her chambers, all alone, and hiding under her blankets, sobbing her woes into the pillow. She only remained in King's Landing out of love for Elia, not wanting her to remain all alone, especially after how she almost died giving birth to her second child, Aegon.

The moon hung high over King's Landing, casting silver slants of light through the thin curtains of Y/N’s chambers. A single candle burned on her bedside table, its flickering flame barely keeping the darkness at bay.

But the darkness wasn’t just in the room. It was in her mind. It was in her chest. It was the suffocating weight of fear pressing down on her ribs, curling around her throat like unseen fingers.

She wailed into the void, her body trembling, her breath ragged, her hands tearing away at her gorgeous hair...

A soft creak at the window stopped it all.

She barely registered it until a warm hand touched her shoulder out of nowhere, making her jump in her skin, almost shrieking her lungs out - Only to have a hand placed over her mouth, and a body over her;

"Sweet dove, it is me." a hushed voice whispered into her ear, soothing enough to calm her panic down.

"R-Ryn..." she stammered out, after the man in cause slowly took away his hand. "D-Don't do that again... I-I thought... I-... Y-You..."

Oberyn’s voice was softer than she had ever heard it. His usual teasing bravado was absent, replaced by something raw. Something real. Pure worry for her.

Y/N looked up at him, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the candlelight. Her breath a panting pace, her eyes puffy and pink, and face wet, hair disheveled; All whilst he looked as flawless as ever, those black eyes of his warm and darling, burning with the flame of the dimming candle light.

"What happened?" he asked, shifting his body so he would be kneeling on the bed before her.

The dam inside her broke, and her arms were thrown around the man, clinging onto him tightly, pulling him back on the bed so she could sob her life away into his bare chest.

"The King-" she gasped between sobs. "The things he does, Ryn—you don’t understand. Every night, I hear her scream. The Queen—" She choked on her words, shaking her head violently. "No one does anything. No one can do anything." she continued her broken string of words. "I tend to her every night when he claims her - And Every night, the wounds, the scars, the bruises... Worse and worse..." she mewled pitifully, breaking his heart. "And tonight... He... He even threatened me... Again... Spoken such disgusting words..."

Oberyn’s jaw tightened. She could see the anger in his eyes, simmering, barely restrained, like burning coal in the fire.

"Elia is safe with that silver haired cunt." he assured her, voice firm. "The Prince would never let any harm come to her. He can do at least that much, especially now, after she birthed him an heir." he grumbled with spite. "Almost at the cost of her life, that is."

"For now." Y/N whispered a truth that was better left unspoken, her voice barely audible. "But if anything happened to Rhaegar—"

She didn’t finish. They both knew what would happen. The Mad King was a monster, and no one was safe from his wrath.

Oberyn lifted a hand, brushing away her tears with a touch so gentle it nearly undid her. "You don’t belong here, sweet rose. This place is rotting. It’s poison." she nodded, her throat too tight to speak. "I’ll take you away from here." he vowed. "The next time I return to King’s Landing, I will bring you to Dorne. I swear it on my life." he vowed, holding her closer to his chest. "I shall do what that imbecile couldn't do and marry you; Keep you away from danger, safe and sound."

"Ryn..." she whimpered, her fingers gripping tightly onto him. "Can you stay here for the night? Please?" she nestled into him. "I am terrified of being alone."

"Of course, my sweetling."

Oberyn's promise to her was the only thing keeping her together in the days that followed... But those days weren't long, and then the rumors started. The whispers spread like wildfire. The gossip was heard far and wide, spread by the spiders's web.

Prince Oberyn Martell had been seen sneaking into Lady Y/N Tyrell’s chambers. Every night, the guards had seen a shadow slipping through the halls. The court loved gossip, and there was no story more tantalizing than a Dornish prince seducing a noble lady under the Mad King’s nose.

And the Mad King loved to punish.

Soon enough, before his very nose, before he even realised, the sky was burning red.

Outside the Red Keep, the city was aflame. The Lannister banners had come, the gates had been opened, and Tywin Lannister’s troops poured into King’s Landing like a tide of crimson and gold.

The King thought they were his salvation - His most trusted, most loyal servant had come to defeat the rebellion; He didn’t know they were his doom; And thus, the King had enough time to pass judgement on his favourite subject, the defying maiden that kept bewitching the Queen;

The only thing Y/N could do was pray for a quick death or a miracle - She knew there was carnage outside those walls; In the throne room there was only herself, the King, and her beloved White Knight, staring at them, stunned and mind-blocked.

Aerys’ fingers were bruising her wrists, his breath hot and vile against her cheek.

"You think you can defy me in my own castle?" he seethed, his grip tightening as he slammed her against the cold stone of his chamber wall. "You and your Dornish filth — Whoring under my roof—"

"I didn’t—" Y/N sobbed, struggling against him. "I swear, my King—please—" if Jaime thought Y/N was sleeping with another, would he still protect her? Would he still feel the same for her, as he did before? Did he believe the rumours?

The Mad man laughed. A sharp, deranged sound. "Please?" he mocked. "You beg me, yet you spread your legs for theviper? You deserve to burn just like the rest of them—" his fingers clawed at her skirts, and a scream built in her throat.

... Then she collapsed to the floor like a discarded doll, with blood spilling and spraying all over her; A blade slid through flesh, followed by the sound of a thud.

She gasped, stumbling back, crawling away from the blood pooling around the corpse of what was once King Aerys II.

Jaime stood before her, his pristine armor splattered with red, the white cloak of the Kingsguard stained and tainted. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, staring with horror at the blade, and seeing the reflection - His reflection - Bloody and afraid.

His breath was ragged, his eyes wide, gaze shifted away, and Y/N realized—

He wasn’t looking at the King. He was looking at her.

"Y/N." he whispered, voice breaking, before he immediately collapsed on the ground by her side, gathering her into his arms, shaking and sobbing as she was. "I’ve got you." he murmured, holding her so tightly it almost hurt. "You’re safe now. You’re safe." she clung to him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his cloak, her body trembling violently. "It’s over. He cannot hurt you again. No one can." he promised, voice hoarse. "I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever again."

The King’s blood pooled around them, and Jaime held her as the world as they knew it burnt all around them.

When the doors were opened, Ned Stark was the first to see the horrific scene; Y/N was huddled away in a corned, Y/N had sat on the Iron Throne, his bloody blade over his knees, and looking into nothingness; What was he trying to prove? Kingslayer, that's what he was. A man with no honour, no shame, no morals.

Though Jaime was later pardoned for his sins, and retained his spot in the Kingsguard, to protect the next King - King Robert Baratheon, and his wife, Cersei Lannister - He found, much to his dismay, that Y/N wed Oberyn Martel and went to live with him in Dorne, never to return to King's Landing ever again.

He could not fault her - She held no happy memory of the capital, after all, and there was no joy that anyone here could bring her; He could not marry her, nor bring her comfort; She could have remained Cersei's lady in waiting, although, for how long, before she was forced to marry and fulfill her duty as a noble woman of her status.

Of course, the Queen was pissed - She demanded Y/N return to court - She wanted her friend back - That was the whole purpose of everything, to have Jaime and Y/N constantly by her side. But now, she lost her beautiful flower, what was she to do? There was only so much joy she could get out of sharing a bed with her brother - He still remained as foolish as always, caring only about swords and battles and all that nonsense. At least her and Y/N were bound by womanhood, by secrets, by so many traits they shared together.

Alas... That friendship was forever lost to time and destiny.

"A Wedding fit for a King, you said?" Lady Olenna Tyrell scoffed, looking away, though the corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a proud smile. "I almost do not recognise you, my child."

"That little atrocity is as much of a King as I am." Y/N huffed at her mother, slumping down on her chair unceremoniously. "No less, he is Cersei's bastard, with all the cruelty, and even less of a common sense than her." Oberyn chuckled light-heartedly, slumping down on the chair next to her, immediately reaching for the wine goblet. "I have already killed one Mad King - What is another?"

"Hush now, child, you did no such thing - It was the Kingslayer's blade, not your hand, which pierced the Mad King's belly." her mother scolded her, before straightening up. "The Sun of Dorne must have burnt your head, for you speak nonsense."

"Dear Lady, mother by law, are you not so proud of your little flower?" he played with a lock of her hair. "Hearing the news of her sweet niece's marriage - Second marriage - She jumped on the horse and tried to come here all the way, just to see her to safety." he mused with a sly smile. "Used to be she was so shy and passive - Now she grows hot headed, thirsting for blood and the safety of her kin."

"Fools, both of you." Olenna spat, though her eyes sparkled with motherly love. "Better feel blessed for your luck, not your heart or brain, for otherwise you would have still been lovesick over that fool who lusts over his sister's golden cunt - And what then would you have done? Killed your husband's bastards and live to tell the tale?"

"Instead, I would render us both lucky for marrying a man who got four chains at the Citadel just because he was bored out of his mind - Or, rather - A viper more proficient in poisons than any Maester in the land." the Queen of Thorns was quite fascinated by the way her daughter was speaking to her.

"And what, may I ask, is the price, then? Surely, the Red Viper of Dorne would not offer his aid out of the goodness of his heart." her eyes turned stern, looking at the Dornish prince.

"Could you perhaps be suggesting me cold-hearted when faced with my sweetling's distress? How cruel must you think me be, my dear lady mother by law." he did not seem the least bit offended. "Of course, my wish to exert vengeance on the Lannisters only adds to the thrill of fulfilling my darling's every wishes."

"Men are such fools - Only ever seeking the taste of honey in between a woman's legs." she rolled her eyes.

"I will have you know, the honey is very sweet - And so is the taste of revenge." Oberyn licked his lips sultry. "So why is there I hear you complain, when our goals have mutual finality?"

"He even has the venomous tongue of a viper." the old lady huffed, before smiling at her daughter. "Much better choice, I assure you." she said, referring to Jaime Lannister.

The scent of roses lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp aroma of Dornish wine that Oberyn swirled lazily in his goblet as they contemplated murder. A deadly collection of possibilities, carefully curated for the demise of a boy king who had lived far too long and was threatening the blooming of a flower..

Olenna tapped a delicate finger against the table, her sharp eyes narrowing at the selection before her. "The Strangler is effective, of course." she mused. "It tightens the throat, turns the face a lovely shade of purple… Quite dramatic, but too quick. A shame, really. I’d rather see him linger and wither on the ground like a pig."

Oberyn smirked. "You sound almost Dornish, Lady Olenna. In Dorne, we prefer a death to be… An experience. Something one does not simply slip away from, but feels with every agonizing breath."

Y/N tilted her head, glancing at her husband with a knowing smile. "Something slow, then. Something fitting for a boy who enjoys tormenting others — Wouldn't it be poetic justice if he suffered in turn?"

"Ah, my love, you understand me so well." Oberyn murmured, shaking his arm a little, only to reveal a small vial in between his fingers, which he fingered and played with idly. The liquid inside moved thickly, a deep, oily, murky green. "Basilisk blood."

Olenna raised a silvered brow. "I have heard tales of it - I had perhaps thought it to be simply that - A tale."

"It is a rare poison indeed - Legendary, in fact." Oberyn explained, watching the liquid slosh against the glass. "Derived from the fangs of the great lizards of the Isle of Tears, just off the northwest coast of Sothoryos. A single drop burns through a man’s veins, leaving him writhing in agony. His blood turns black, his flesh festers, and he screams until his throat is too raw to make another sound." He grinned. "Is that dramatic enough?"

Olenna took a slow sip of wine, considering. "Dramatic, certainly. But we are not simply making a statement, Prince Oberyn. We need precision. A public spectacle is well and good, but we must be certain the boy dies before anyone can suspect our hand in it." she declared. "I will be damned before I am forced to find that girl another husband - After all, who else but you has such renowned illicit knowledge?"

Y/N traced a finger over her own goblet, looking at the red wine with a pondering look. "The Bloodwyrm's Lament." she said, impressing her mother. "It forces painful convulsions, as well as heavy bleeding from the eyes, ears and nose."

"Clever." Olenna admitted. "And equally ruthless." she continued. "Plenty of ideas, yet which to use?"

Oberyn chuckled, setting down the basilisk blood. "We are at an impasse, I see? Then, perhaps, a blend?" he offered. "These beauties together could make for a fine crystal. Place it in any food or drink, and it shall be no more."

Y/N and Olenna both turned their eyes to him.

"Bloodwyrm's Lament for the initial pain, Basilisk Blood for the agony… and The Strangler to make certain he does not survive the ordeal." Oberyn spread his hands as if laying out a feast. "His body will convulse, his face will turn purple, his insides will rot as he chokes, and he will die knowing it was no simple accident, but a punishment crafted just for him - And we are all happy."

Y/N smirked. "Swift, but meaningful. Sweet revenge." she glanced at Olenna. "Perfectly balanced."

The Queen of Thorns hummed in approval. "And how do you propose we deliver this delightful crystal?"

Y/N leaned back, tapping her nail against her goblet. "The wine will be too closely watched - Not to mention, Margaery would be sharing a goblet with him. The main courses will be tested for poison. But the wedding pie…" she smiled. "The doves will be the main spectacle, as will the newly weds. No one will notice if something is slipped into the king’s slice before it reaches him."

"And who, my dear, will have the honor of delivering the final touch?" Olenna asked, her voice laced with amusement.

The Tyrell woman spoke carefully. "Sansa Stark." surprising both her daughter and her husband.

Oberyn lifted a brow. "The poor girl?" he asked in surprise. "How could you have possibly managed to persuade her?"

"I never said she is a knowing accomplice." the woman waved her hand. "Girls love jewellery. Craft the poison crystal into a hairnet, and she won't suspect a thing." she continued on. "Besides - I doubt she would be opposed to marrying the grandson that you crippled, Viper. She must be in a great hurry to leave the lion's cage."

"You call me a dangerous and hot-headed man, yet every drop of your blood schemes." Oberyn grinned mirthfully. "You got that cunning tongue of yours from your mother, I see!" he looked with a twinkle of mischief at his wife.

Olenna took another sip of her wine, eyes gleaming with something murderous. "A dangerous man needs an intelligent wife to keep him in check."

"And a dangerous woman needs a husband who will let her be dangerous." Oberyn countered smoothly, lifting his goblet in a mock toast. "To a wedding, then."

And thus the deed was done; Olenna Tyrell went with her whole retinue in King's Landing to lure the little wolf pup closer to her side, with dreams of willow blossoms and marriage - And as a gift, a hairnet adorned with lovely crystals, so that she would shine with joy, knowing she was one step closer to escaping the lions, and one step closer to becoming a flower in the Highgarden.

Whilst Oberyn and Ellaria enjoyed the brothel, Y/N joined her family - Of course, Margaery was as lovely as ever, and her mother as ruthless as always. Sansa even joined them on occasion, indulging in her favourite lemon cakes.

Yet not all his pleasure and glee in the pleasure house, as the Rains of Castamere was sung by some poor Lannister bastard, who dared interrupt the Dornishman's good time; Before long, the whores had left, and the fool had a dagger shoved through his hand, binding him to the table - And the only thing saving him was not his companion, but the arrival of the Imp, who remained speechless as his intensity... And his pure hatred for the Lannisters.

Martell took the Imp aside for a little walk, just the two of them, for a conversation with little to hide - A conversation that would terrify the little golden lion. "What are you doing in King's Landing, my Prince?"

"I was invited to the Wedding." he smiled simply. "My wife's niece is the bride - I wouldn't be a good husband if I did not join the retinue, would I?"

"I thought we were speaking truth." Tyrion spoke solemnly.

"The last time I was in the capital was many, many years ago, for another Wedding - My sister, Elia, married Rhaegar Targaryen, the last Dragon. My sister loved him, bore his children in her womb; Took care of them, waddled them, fed them at her breast - Didn't even allow the wet nurse to touch them." he continued, fidgeting a little. "My sweet wife was there by her side day and night, helping her." his smile was wide, filled with resentment. "And beautiful, noble Rhaegar Targaryen left her for another woman." he went on. "That started a war - And the war ended right here, when your father's army took the city."

"I wasn't there." Tyrion looked down, feeling guilt, in spite of him having no part played in the massacre.

"They butchered her children. My nephew and niece, carved them up and wrapped them in Lannister cloaks. And my sister - You know what they did to her?" he picked the imp's chin, raising it up to look him in the eyes. "I am asking you a question."

"I have heard rumours." Tyrion gulped, his heart pounding hard against his chest.

Oberyn's laugh was mirthless. "Yes, so have I." he said. "The one I keep hearing is Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, raped Elia and split her in two with his greatsword." Tyrion tried one more time to say he wasn't there, he had nothing to do with it - It was in vain. "But if the Mountain killed my sister, it was by your father's orders." his voice dropped a little in a humourless tone. "Tell your father I'm here. Tell him the Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts." he let out a small huff. "Cheer up, little man - My wife would be thrilled to see how much you have grown since last she saw you -- Perhaps you should ask your dear brother and sister; They are sure to know what I am talking about."

Thus she returned to the brothel to retrieve his paramour and left to explore more of the city - Yet back to their room, there was no sight of Y/N; Surely, she must still be with her family, he thought - Or worse, she caught sight of that foolish Lion. What a pity, he thought to himself, however inevitable that conversation would be. Fifteen years or so passed since that day when Jaime Lannister drove his blade through King Aerys' body and rescued Y/N from being burnt alive - For that, Oberyn was thankful, yet for everything else, he was not.

"You're a Queen, not an ox." Olenna huffed, looking away from those ugly necklaces displayed nobly over the red velvet cushions, before she grasped one of them. "Your grandfather gifted me a necklace quite like this, at my one-and-fifty name day." she threw it off the balcony, grinning.

"My father never did have a good sense of fashion." Y/N giggled at her mother.

"My wedding is in a fortnight, grandmother, we cannot turn everything away." Margaery scolded her picky grandma, who simply smiled.

"Of course I can - And I will." she said sternly, before addressing the ladies in waiting. "My dears, go to the royal jewellers all over the capital - Tell them who you are, tell them who sent you - The one who brings me the best necklace will receive the second best." the girls grinned happily, before skipping away with excitement.

Y/N smiled sweetly, before receiving something from inside her sleeve. "Can I receive the best, if she likes this?" Margy gravitated to her aunty, her eyes wide and sparkling beautifully.

"It is gorgeous!" Margaery smiled brightly.

Y/N placed the necklace over the girl's cleavage. "And it also suits you - Do you agree, mother?"

"Takes a flower to know a flower." Olenna laughed, sitting back on her chair. "Yes, that's the one, I agree. Enjoy your gift, Y/N."

"I suppose I do not have to rely on Joffrey to place a string of dead sparrow heads around my neck." the young girl joked, making both her auntie and grandma scold her for speaking reckless.

Out of nowhere, a very tall and strong woman appeared, speaking very politely and diplomatic, introducing herself as Brienne of Tarth - She used to be Renly Baratheon's protector, that much Y/N heard from Loras, though she did not know that she beat Loras in jousting - That was a woman! Y/N giggled to herself, thinking about a young Brienne beating Jaime up. That would have been cute to see.

Margy delicately took her auntie's hand to follow her into the gardens, to hear what the blonde lady has to say about the night of Renly's assassination; The shadow of Stannis Baratheon killed him, she said - And though it sounded beyond fantastic, Oberyn told Y/N about the stories of the water witches Princess Nymeria brought to Dorne, and she knew of the blood mages of old Valyria - There was nothing to say such forbidden magic couldn't persist to these days.

"Auntie - Lady Brienne here bravely sought Ser Jaime Lannister to safety, after his imprisonment by the Starks." so that was why Margaery wanted her along. "Perhaps you might with to speak." she smiled sweetly, before returning to her grandmother.

"Is that so?" Y/N asked with a passive smile. "Hard to believe the proud lion would be needing aid. What happened?"

"My Lady, I..." Brienne looked down for a second, gathering her words. "Ser Jaime saved me when we were captured - He lied to preserve my maidenhead, though I could not save him from the cruel fate of having his hand chopped off." Y/N's eyes widened with shock, her hands flying to her mouth in disbelief. "Afterward, the lord of the castle we were brought to allowed Ser Jaime safe passage to King's Landing, but threw me in a bear pit with only a wooden sword and a dress. He jumped in the pit and fought the bear, yelling at the people to kill the bear, while he helped me get out of the pit." she placed her hand over her heart. "In spite of his reputation as a Kingslayer, his actions are honorable and righteous as that of a true knight."

"Thank you for saving him, Lady Brienne. For that, you have my eternal gratitude and thanks." spectacularly, Y/N embraced the tall lady, who was frozen in shock. "I do not want to imagine him dying." she said. "Though I cannot believe his heart has healed - May you take me to him?"

Brienne looked down at the smaller lady - She wondered what kind of delicate connection the two of them had - Still, she could not refuse her. "Of course, my lady. Right away."

Jaime sat in the dim candlelight of his chambers, his body draped lazily over a cushioned chair, though there was no comfort in his posture. His golden hair was unkempt, his features sharper, wearier, even after bathing thoroughly a few times since he's arrived. He idly flexed the fingers of his remaining hand, but it was the stump at his side that truly defined him now - The empty spot where once was his sword-hand.

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed a shadow passing the threshold, along with the soft squeak of the door. He lifted his head, expecting another visitor to come gawk at him. Instead, he saw the sweetest dream he's ever had, right before his very eyes - The one woman he never thought he would see again in this life.

"Y/N." he breathed, almost disbelieving. Was he dead, and dreaming? Was he in a reverie? He did not take Milk of the poppy, nor was he drunk... So why...? How was it possible?

She stepped closer, the warm glow of the candles illuminating her features. She was older now, more refined, yet still radiant in a way that made his chest ache. The woman that was so close to being his wife; The woman to whom he turned his back.

"Jaime." she whispered back, and in that moment, they were children again, playing in the gardens of Casterly Rock, before the world had turned cruel.

For a long moment, neither spoke. He drank in the sight of her, the softness of her gaze, the gentle concern that had never faded. She was the same as ages ago.

"I heard what happened to you." Y/N finally said, stepping closer. "Brienne told me everything."

Jaime chuckled, low and bitter. "I imagine she made me sound more noble than I deserve." he gestured at his missing hand. "I am not the gallant and righteous knight that you used to know, you see." he huffed. "Do you pity me?"

"No." she said firmly, stepping closer to him, close enough that he could see the way her lips trembled, the way her hands fidgeted as if she wished to reach out but did not want to overstep. "I only regret that I wasn’t there to save you."

"What could you have done?" Jaime asked, voice hoarse. "You weren't saving me from Father's scoldings; Those men were savages, traitors." he looked down at the ground. "If you were there... I would not have been able to save you."

"I could have at least held your other hand." she murmured.

Jaime inhaled sharply, looking away. She had always been like this — So effortlessly kind, so willing to love... And he… had been too blind to cherish it when he had the chance. There she was, standing ing in front of him, as bright and beautiful as the Maiden, and as loving and warm as the Mother... The one to whom he was truly bound by soul...

Yet there he was, bound and broken, shackled by the mistake he did ages ago, when he chose blood ties over his ration and heart. He allowed himself to be manipulated by dreams of honey and gold, when the true reverie was right under his eyes.

A fool, he has been... But now, returned to his home... He has seen what Cersei truly was; Bedding other men, snarking him, snubbing him, blaming him for not having escaped soon enough... Guilting him for leaving her alone, as if he was faring any better; As if he wanted to be taken prisoner by the Stark boy.

As if unworthy, Jaime raised his gaze, his sad eyes looking the lady up and down; She was wearing rich Dornish silks of the highest quality, and was adorned with jewels of which even he has not seen before. It did not take an intellectual to know the truth; She was happy. "Dorne treats you well, I see?" he asked after a moment, forcing himself to ask the question that had burned in him since the moment he saw her again. He couldn't speak his name - He wouldn't - But she knew regardless.

Y/N smiled, the kind of smile that did not need words to affirm its truth. "Yes. He treats me very well."

Jaime swallowed thickly. He had always known he was too selfish to truly wish her happiness without him, but looking at her now, seeing the peace in her eyes, the way her body held no tension, no uncertainty — He knew Oberyn had given her something he never could. The last time he remembers seeing her was that day, when the Mad king wanted to burn her alive - The fear in her eyes was no more, nor the tears wetting her beautiful face. The reign of terror was over.

"Then I am glad." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N reached out then, the hesitation gone, and took his remaining hand in hers. "But you, Jaime? How are you?" she asked. "You have been through so many hardships - Yet finally you have prevailed and returned home." a question so simple, yet it unraveled him.

"I don’t know..." he admitted tragically.

She squeezed his hand gently. "You are still you, Jaime. Even without a sword in your hand, you are still a knight. You are still worthy of being called one."

He laughed, hollow and broken. "Do you really believe that?"

"I have always believed in you." she said softly. "Even when you did not believe in yourself." she smiled up at him. "Even when you were Ser Jaime the Cat Knight."

"That cat must still be laughing at us." Jaime shut his eyes, breathing through the ache in his chest. He wanted to turn back time, to make different choices, to never let go of her hand. But time had marched forward, and now she belonged to another, and he — He belonged to no one.

"If I could do it all again..." he murmured. "I wouldn’t hesitate."

"You forget yourself, Jaime. You did not hesitate." Y/N smiled, sad and knowing. "You did not hesitate to choose Cersei over me." the man gulped with guilt - Of course she knew, there was no need for words or explanations. Y/N knew the two of them better than they knew themselves.

"Since when...?" he found himself asking in such a meek and mousy voice.

"Since your Lady Mother moved your bedchambers across mine own." the lady let out a sardonic chuckle. "The two of you have never been known for your subtlety, mind you. People just chose to turn a blind eye to your... Misbehaviour. Deeming it a twin thing. But I knew better." she said, her voice throwing daggers at the man's heart. "I have known since then that you were a lost cause for me, and that you would fall prey to your sister's lies."

"Why did you not warn me?" he found himself asking, bewildered, yet not surprised.

"Would you have believed me, over your own sister?" Jaime nodded to himself - She was right, and he replied with a negative answer. "Thought so."

A silence stretched between them, filled with everything they had left unsaid. "There is no point for regrets anymore. We cannot go back, Jaime. We can only go forward."

Finally, Jaime spoke, his voice as fragile as the moment between them. "You are right." as always.

"Jaime - What ever happened to our bunnies?" Y/N asked, all of a sudden. "I never did get to ask you, did I?"

"No... I guess you didn't." Jaime said with a sad smile. "Cersei got angry the day she heard she won't be marrying Rhaegar Targaryen, and she hugged the rabbit so hard she killed it." of course she would do that. "She got even angrier, and she went to Tyrion, killed the rabbit in front of him, then forced the cooks to make it into a meal and feed it to him." Y/N covered her mouth in shock. "As for ours... I knew Cersei would end up hurting them... So I went into the forest one night and let them go. I do not know if they got attacked by predators, or survived... But at least they survived her." what a very sad fate for them.

"Well... Can't say I am surprised." Y/N sighed pitifully. "Sorry that I asked. I soured the mood." she said, fixing her hair. "On another note - Tell me... Is there anything that you learnt from this... Journey of yours?" Y/N asked, letting go of his hand and stepping away. "Anyone that... Taught you something meaningful?" she continued.

"What are you talking about?" the man asked with confusion.

"What do you see when you look at Brienne?" his eyes narrowed, along with his furrowed brows - He could not make the meaning of the question. "Do you know what I see in Brienne?"

"What does Brienne have to do with anything?" The lion was evidently confused.

"Everything." came the solemn answer.

"What are you talking about?"

"Does she not remind you of yourself?" Y/N ask, receiving silence.

"I am not that ugly." Y/N shot him a warning look, making him apologise. "Apart from being tall, strong and blond, I can't really see what similarities we share. Do enlighten me, O, wise one."

"Snark me like that again, and I am leaving." he remained silent. "Although your sarcasm proves me that you do, in fact, admire Brienne for what she is - And for what you were incapable of doing." she let out a dry laugh. "She did what you could not - She kept her righteous heart and kindness. You became blinded by renown and power." she spoke bitterly. "Do you even remember why you killed the Mad King? Do you remember why you so readily accepted that God-awful nickname of yours?"

"Well, if I remember correctly, he was ripping away at that pretty dress of yours, and wanted to fuck you in front of me before he would burn you alive with wildfire. Am I misremembering something?" snarky as always, and with all the bitterness. "I did not even get a thank you, if I remember well enough."

"Forgive me for crying so much that I forgot to voice my gratitude." Y/N rolled her eyes. "I was trying to remind you that you used to be selfless. You used to be the man who wanted to protect the weak; Who wanted to be the champion of justice and all those who could not protect themselves. Like Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy."

"Yes, well - Arthur Dayne is dead, Barristan Selmy was dismissed from his post, and I am a cripple. Between the three of us, I wonder what legacy will we bear." Y/N groaned in annoyance.

"Legacy? What are you, your father? Since when did you care about legacy? Since when did you discard everything that you ever stood for? You used to have honour, justice, righteousness." Y/N shook her head. "Do you think I fell for you because you had pretty gold hair, and gorgeous green eyes, and had a rich family?" she went on. "I fell in love with you because you were hard-working and diligent, because you always wanted to do what's right, and wanted to protect those who could not protect themselves." she let out a ragged breath, her voice breaking a little. "What happened to my sweet Jaime?"

"He died, along with the Mad King." when he got the nickname of Kingslayer, and had his reputation tarnished.

"No." Y/N said sternly, surprising him. "My Jaime died when he fell prey to his sister's manipulating lies, and forgot how to think for himself. The Jaime in front of me is nothing more than Cersei's puppet that she liked to sleep with - But no more. You're not as dashing as you used to be, without one hand and the long hair." with his answer being a contemplative silence, Y/N stepped towards the door to leave.

"Y/N." he called out. "Can you promise me something?" she hummed in agreement. "No matter which way life takes us, what roads the two of us take - No matter what - Please... Y/N... Promise me you will seek your happiness above all else."

Y/N stood there in the door, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. She had to return to Oberyn and Ellaria as fast as humanly possible - Being in the same room as Jaime brought her nothing but misery... A bittersweet misery which she could not escape.

"I promise." she mumbled under her breath, before escaping back to her chambers, into a land of love and warmth where problems existed no more.

A fortnight passed, and the wedding ceremonies were in bloom; Everyone was having fun - Except, of course, the Mad boy who thought himself a King. Y/N was content staying with her husband and his paramour, feasting at a table, somewhere away from the main events - Yet even still, as she kept squeezing Ryn's hand, she saw her mother caressing Sansa's sweet face, fixing the hairnet and stealing the mischievous crystal.

But the King grew bored, and he invited a most vulgar dwarf show, depicting his enemies fighting each other... With awful words and an even more dishonorable showcase of humiliation, which left everyone watching uncomfortable... Except for the Queen Regent, of course. Poor Sansa was fighting between being numb, and bursting into tears; First she watched her father beheaded, she was abused by her supposed betrothed, and then her brother and mother, at a wedding no less...

And to make matters worse, the first time Y/N saw Tyrion, after so long, was him being metaphorically pissed on by his own brat of a nephew - Though Y/N was almost sure Joffrey wouldn't have shied away from actually pissing on his uncle if it weren't for Tywin.

Y/N squeezed Oberyn's and Ellaria's hands tightly, watching with hawk eyes as Joffrey handed Margaery his goblet - And when she placed it on the table, she added the crystal Lady Olenna handed to her prior, when fixing her dress.

The dove cake was cut, Margaery fed him a bite or two, and then the King forced his uncle to fetch him the goblet again; One big gulp, and another, and another - Until he started choking and raking his nails at his own throat until there was skin and flesh no more; Vomit was spewing from his mouth, his eyes were red, and blood was spilling from his nose and ears; His body was trembling and spazzing involuntarily, and his shrieks were sweet lullabies to all those he had wronged.

One scheme, three people, and an unfortunate innocent to be the scapegoat. Y/N had not wished Tyrion to be blamed for this ploy, they had not anticipated Cersei's and Joffrey's sheer cruelty - Alas, the poor imp was imprisoned and trialed for his crimes.

At least Margaery was safe, and with that Oberyn also was asked to join the Small Council by none other than the Lannister Lord himself - In the brothel, no less. What a very amusing turn of events.

Tyrion was imprisoned, yet his brother did not hesitate to go talk to him; He was innocent, he knew, and yet... What could Jaime do to save him? Nothing, he realised - Alas. One thing he could, however, was to save his squire, Podrik, by sending him along with Brienne... Brienne...

Y/N had been right. Brienne was just like him, in the past, and now, with Oathkeeper in her hands, she could do what he never could - Keep her oaths, protect those in need.

Bring Sansa Stark home.

In that tainted and rotten heart of his, there was still a spark of light, and even though Catelyn Stark was dead, he had sworn to her to bring her daughter back into her arms. Jaime Lannister might be incapable of such a feat - Yet Brienne of Tarth could do anything she ever dreamt of, and more.

In the gardens, Oberyn and Y/N were writing poems for his daughters back in Sunspear - And the lioness appeared to disturb their peace. Oh, for Y/N to meet Cersei like this, after so many long years, it was unpleasant. To go from 'Cersei' to 'Your Grace' with a bow - She was sure she enjoyed it very much. Or ordering them for a walk, without the capacity to refuse.

"I did not take you for a poet." Cersei started the conversation, stealing one glance at the way Y/N and Oberyn were holding hands, and her jaw clenched in anger.

"Not a very good one, I am afraid. Y/N here has the romantic heart for it." he kissed her hand sweetly.

"I did not think you would be sharing paramours." the lioness japed.

"It is for one of my daughters." he replied.

"You have several, don't you?" Cersei pointed out.

"Eight." Ryn stated proudly.

"Eight?!" Cersei looked at him. "Eight daughters?" she repeated. "Would any of them call me 'auntie'?" she looked at Y/N, who seemed uncomfortable by the question, and avoided her gaze. "Or, perhaps a son?"

"We might not have children together by blood, Y/N loves my children as though they were her own." the Dornishman spoke up immediately.

"Pity. I suppose the prophecy came true for some." Y/N couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh.

"It did not miss you either, I am afraid." the flower smirked antagonistic at the Queen regent. "Though I believe you are less happy with the outcome, all things considered."

Cersei glared at the girl - Dorne ruined her - She used to be so mellow and sweet; Now she dares speak back to her. Blasphemy. "What is she like? Your daughter, I mean."

"She is my fifth daughter - And the most stubborn. I named her Elia, after my sister." he began.

"Beautiful name." a lie. Cersei hated Elia Martell more than any woman alive. She stole Y/N from her. She stole Rhaegar from her. She stole every thing, including her happiness.

"Yes, it is - Though I am saddened every time I speak it - And then, I grow angry." Cersei remained unmoved.

"Perhaps that is why she is difficult. Gods love their jokes, don't they?" jokes? Oberyn asked. "You are a Prince of Dorne, a legendary fighter, a brilliant, feared man throughout Westeros - Yet you could not save your sister." she said. "I am a Lannister, Queen for 19 years, daughter of the most powerful man in the kingdom, and yet I could not save my son." she went on. "And you... You belong to the second most powerful House, on which we now depend dearly; You had my father's admiration and my brother to wed, you befriended the Crown Princess and ended up happily marrying her sister..." she smiled bitterly. "But no matter how hard you tried, you could not hold onto anything that you held dear and it all slipped through your fingers."

"Might be so, but I live a happy and worryless life now. I would say it all worked for the best for me." Y/N shrugged lightly.

"Tell me, sister - What is the use of power, if you cannot protect those you love?" Cersei asked.

"You can avenge them." Cersei agreed.

"Do you really believe Tyrion killed your son?" Y/N found herself asking.

"I know he did." Cersei spoke with certainty - It took everything from Y/N not to sigh.

"He will have a trial, and we will find out the truth." Oberyn spoke simply.

"We will have a trial, yes..." Cersei then trailed on, tearfully speaking of how much she missed her daughter - Not that Y/N would understand, of course, she said. Still, they promised to deliver her the name's day gift and remind Myrcella of her mother's affections. Myrcella was happy.

Oberyn was now part of the Small Council, and heard plenty about the Targaryen girl in Mereen, winning and conquering far and wide; It gave the Viper quite the funny idea - Get the Targaryens back on the throne, to get rid of the Lannisters. Funny thought indeed. Rhaegar Targaryen abandoned his sister - Tywin Lannister killed his sister and his niece and nephew. Lesser of two evil? Who knows. In spite of this, Dorne still loathed the Dragons.

The trial was every bit as Y/N expected - Unfair, just like the whole country. She never expected Tywin to hate his own son so much that he would have him killed - Was it because he was a disgrace? An imp? Or because birthing him, his beloved Joanna died?

So many people testified against Tyrion, making his sound like such a horrifying monster... And yet Y/N saw the same squalling baby in the crib... The baby that Cersei was torturing in front of her and Oberyn.

And Jaime wasn't doing anything to save his little brother - Except, he went to beg his father for mercy, at the cost of his White Cloak; He promised he will accept the seat at the Rock, and find a suitable wife to marry and make heirs together -- Only if Tyrion lives.

The thought of marrying a woman that wasn't Y/N hurt his heart dearly - But... He knew Y/N would want Tyrion alive... And he would have been, were it not for the whore who betrayed him, who lied about him so ruthlessly... Who broke his heart, the same way he loved Tysha... And because of their father, his heart broke forever.

"Father... I wish to confess..." Tyrion sneered between his teeth, before turning to all the people watching the trial. "I saved you. I saved this city and all of your worthless lives. I should have let Stannis kill you all." the words of a very hurt man.

"Tyrion - Do you wish to confess?"

"Yes, father. I am guilty." he spoke with snark and defiance. "Guilty - Is that what you want to hear?"

"You admit you poisoned the King?" Tywin spoke, perched up on the Iron Throne.

"No. Of that, I am innocent. Tyrion said. "I am guilty of a far more montrous crime." he hissed. "I am guilty of being a dwarf."

"You are not on trial for being a dwarf." Tywin spoke, but he was easily cut off.

"Oh, but yes, I am. I've been on trial for that my entire life!" he exclaimed pitifully.

"Have you nothing to say in your defense?" Y/N shed a tear, seeing the little Lannister being so hated. He didn't deserve all this madness.

"Nothing but this - I did not do it. I did NOT kill Joffrey, but I WISH that I had." merciless trial. "Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than a THOUSAND lying whores!" Y/N had her hand over her heart, and searched for the crowd - Her eyes met with Jaime, and in that instant, they both knew - The little Lannister was doomed to death since the day he was born. "I wish I was the monster you think I am! I wish I had enough poison for the whole pack of you! I would GLADLY give my life to watch you all swallow it." he turned to his father. "I would NOT give my life for Joffrey's murder; And I know I'll never get my justice here - That's why I'll let the Gods decide my fate."

I DEMAND A TRIAL BY COMBAT.

Y/N fell into her seat, whilst Oberyn straightened up; Jaime gulped with fear, whilst Cersei gritted her teeth in anger, and Tywin clenched his fists.

The youngest Lannister was brought back to his cell, and his brother followed with one last sibling chat. The only friend he's ever had... The strongest knight in the Kingdom, yet he couldn't even fight for his brother's honour... Couldn't even defeat a stable boy, without his precious right hand.

Bronn, his sellsword, the man who fought for him once, also did not accept to fight for him - After all, who in their right mind would fight the Mountain, of all people - And Tyrion could not blame him for that.

He was all alone.

Except...

Much to his surprise, two people entered his dimly lit jail - The man he knew as Oberyn Martell, and his wife, Y/N Tyrell, of whom he knew little, except for what he heart from his brother and sister. Even now, she was as gorgeous as a flower - Or so Jaime used to describe her.

"I thought you'd be back at the brothel by this hour." Tyrion spoke softly.

"I did spend all yesterday with a stunning blonde." Oberyn said, placing his torch on the wall. Tyrion watched as he gallantly took a chair and placed his coat on it, so his wife would not dirty her dress sitting down. "Cersei approached me - We talked a lot about her daughter, how worried your sister is about her. She was trying very hard to hide she was trying to sway me away from you - I think she may have even believed it herself."

"But, well - Cersei has never been that good of a liar. Most people aren't Jaime, you see. I think you, of all people, would know that much." Y/N smiled enigmatically.

"It is very rare to meet a Lannister who shares MY enthusiasm for dead Lannisters." Oberyn exclaimed with mock joy. "She desperately wants to see you killed."

"She didn't need to bother you. It looks as though I have taken care of that myself." he sighed. "The joy she will feel when my head leaves my neck. She's wanted it for a long time."

"Yes, I know." Tyrion was confused. "We met, you and I. Many years ago."

"I think I would have remembered that." Tyrion looked suspicious.

"I don't believe you would, little one. You had only just been born." Y/N smiled sweetly. "You do not remember even me, who took care of you until the moment I left for King's Landing." he was even more confused.

"My mother, the Princess of Dorne, took me and my sister Elia on a visit to Casterly Rock - You see, our mothers were good friends, and talks of marriage were in place. Me, to marry Cersei, they said. Of course, your father would hear none of it - Thank goodness for his arrogant pride." Oberyn let out a dry chuckle. "I did not like anything about the Rock. Not the food, not the weather or your accent - Nothing. But the biggest disappointment - You."

"You and my family might have more in common than you think." Tyrion hissed pitifully.

"That is not true." Y/N said. "Everyone, everywhere, talked only about the little Lannister monster - A head twice the size of his body, a tail between his legs, claws, one red eye, the privates of both a girl and a boy."

"That would have made things so much easier." Tyrion sighed.

"When I met your sister, she promised to look us - Dragged Elia and I all the way to your nursery and she unveiled the monster." Ryn recalled dramatically. "Yes, your head was a bit large, your arms and legs a little small; But no claw, no red eyes, no tail between the legs - Just a tiny pink cock." he said. "We couldn't hide our disappointment. That's not a monster, I told Cersei. It's just a babe, Elia told her." he went on. "And she said - He killed my mother. And she pinched your little cock so hard I thought she might pull it off. Until Y/N and your brother tried to stop her." he continued the story. "It does not matter, she said. Everyone says he will die soon; I hope they are right. He should have died long ago."

"Well." Tyrion bit back a sniffle. "Sooner or later, Cersei will get what she wanted. She always gets what she wants."

"Does she?" Y/N chuckled. "She wanted to marry Rhaegar Targaryen. She wanted to marry the man she fell in love with, and have children with him. That woman only ever loved one man, and that is Rhaegar, not Jaime. All the love she bears is for herself." she said, tilting her head.

"Tell me, little man, what ever happened to that fluffy little thing nestled to you in the crib?" Tyrion frowned a little. "This beautiful lady here, before you were born, found a bunch of rabbits. One for each, and one for you - Or so she says. I always did wonder what happened to those rabbits."

"Stew." Tyrion shrugged. "Jaime used to play with me, with the rabbits. Once he left for training, the nursemaid had to take care of all four of them. It was only me, and four rabbits. Cersei was in King's Landing too... And Y/N, I do not remember you. Forgive me." he said. "I know... Cersei's rabbit died first. Some disease, the Maester said... And then she killed the rabbit and made the cooks make it into a stew, to feed me. I remember she specifically said it was my fault the rabbit died - Just like how I killed our mother." he sighed, looking down. "Jaime said his and Y/N's ran away into the garden, to live happily ever after among the flowers... My guess is, they also became porridge. Who knows."

"Cersei has always been vengeful." Y/N nodded her head. "Truth is, since the day Oberyn and Elia came into the Rock, she has hated them like nothing else." she smiled bitterly. "All because I was getting along with them so well." she said. "Dornish whore, she called Elia. O, how I wanted to wring her neck as she stood. Cersei wishes she was even a fraction and kind and gentle as Elia was."

"You see, little man - Cersei may get what she wants - But what about what I want?" Oberyn spoke, looking at the prisoner. "I married Y/N so I can save her from the Lannisters. To keep her safe from this, when your own brother abandoned her." he leaned forwards. "But there is still one thing that I demand. Justice for my sister and her children."

"If you want justice you've come to the wrong place." Tyrion laughed mirthlessly.

"You are wrong, Tyrion. The Mountain killed Elia Martell and her children, Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon - At your father's orders. We want revenge for all the evil that has been done." Y/N said with power in her voice. "Elia was not my sister by blood, but I loved her like mine own. I took care of her each day, in this god-forsaken citadel of death - Only for her to be slaughtered by a monster who calls himself a knight. I will not have that be the last memory of her."

"I want bring those who have wronged me to justice - And all those who have wronged me are right here." Tyrion looked at him with awe and wonder. "I will begin with Ser Gregor Clegane who killed my sister's children, and then raped her with their blood still on his hands, before killing her too." Tyrion shed a tear when hearing him speak. "I will be your champion." his saviour.

"Do not worry, little cub. Oberyn is the Red Viper of Dorne. Not even the Mountain can stand in his way." Y/N smiled, bending to ruffle the messy and dirty golden hair on Tyrion's head, before holding Oberyn's hand to leave to their chamber.

"You tell him that, yet you worry more than anyone I have ever known in my entire life." Ryn chuckled carefree.

"Of course I worry - That man is a monster, that a human." Y/N grumbled, squeezing his hand lovingly. "And I did tell you that blasted prophecy." she looked down, biting her lip. "Do not allow it to happen. I do not wish to be a widow. I do not wish to part from you."

"Why? The prophecy said you will marry Jaime Lannister after me. Is that so bad a fate?" he japed lightly, getting slapped on the arm by his wife. Her reaction earned a heartfelt laugh, and a sweet kiss. "Worry not, my sweetling; We both know not even that monster can kill me."

"Unless you let it get to your head."

Ellaria and Y/N both were kissing and embracing their beloved Oberyn, encouraging him for his fight, whilst reminding him to be careful, to not get arrogant and all that. With such little armor, he had to be lithe.

"Don't leave me alone in this world." the ladies both said.

"Never." he replied, before going to show off with his spear.

Alas, those were the confident words of a dead man who got his revenge after his death; The poison of his lance offered the Mountain a most torturous death... Yet nothing could save Oberyn from having his head smashed in, as the monster pushed his thumbs through his eyes.

Poor Ellaria was shrieked her lungs out in horror - Y/N, however, collapsed to the ground. The prophecy had turned true, and with that, so did her sweet dream of summer.

Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne, was dead.

When Y/N was brought to her room, or how did she get there, she did not know; All she knew was that the first thing she woke up to were the green eyes of Jaime Lannister, looking down at her with worry. No one else was there - No doubt, celebrating Oberyn's death, along with Tyrion's death sentence.

"... Why are you here?" Y/N whispered, her voice saddened, and growing sadder. "Shouldn't you be trying to help your brother escape the city?"

"Already done that." he assured. "Varys will get him out of King's Landing." he said, his hand placed gently over her cheek. "Enough about that - You just lost your husband tragically. My brother's well being is the last thing on your mind."

"Do you think they will allow me to go back to Highgarden?" Y/N asked powerlessly. "I'm sure they will. But a widow, at my age? How pitiful. It was not even a war that took him. What a shame indeed."

"I... I am sure that, should you want to return home, they will welcome you with open arms." Jaime reassured her.

"Is Cersei still alive?" the question confused the man.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Did she never tell you about our little secret escapade?" Y/N giggled sadly. "Our meeting with Maggy the Frog, and the prophecy she gave us?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." he admitted, furrowing his brothers.

"During the time of Prince Viserys' birth celebration tourney, Cersei took me to the witch's tent. She answered us three questions, you see." she smiled, looking away. "Cersei's was that she would marry a King, not a Prince. That she would have three children, shrouded in gold, while the King will have sixteen." Jaime looked at her with shock - They were so young back then - How could the witch know all that? How could she predict so well? "She will become Queen, until another, more beautiful, will take her place. She will outlive her children, and then, the valonqar will strangle her to death - Or something like that." she chuckled softly. "Younger brother, it means."

"You think Tyrion would kill her?" the girl shrugged. "No, he's gone. It's okay."

"Is it?" she snorted, getting in a sitting position.

"What was yours?" he asked, surprising her with his curiosity. "What was your prophecy?"

"Hmm... How did it go now? Something like... I will marry two men - A red viper (clearly, Oberyn was that), and a golden lion, valiant and proud." she let out a sardonic chuckle. "I won't have any children because I am barren, thank the Gods for that." she went on. "And, the one I hated the most - The viper shall topple over the mountain, yet perish beneath its weight. You, who shall free the lion of its shackles, shall lead the pride."

Jaime remained silent - The thought of marrying Y/N was sweet and tempting... But surely, not at the detriment of the man she loved so much. "Y/N." he licked his lips, trying to form his words. "I know... I have wronged you. More times than I can dare count. And... I know you loved Oberyn with all your heart." he continued, awkwardly and unsure. "However... If you ever feel lonely, and you wish for a place to enjoy your days... Perhaps not as festive and easy-going as Dorne, but with all the luxury... I..." he looked down for a few seconds, before looking back at her. "I will resign from the Kingsguard on the spot and join you at Casterly Rock. No father, no Cersei, no Crown. Nothing. I won't go to war, I won't leave your side, I won't do anything stupid or reckless anymore - Not that I can at this point, anyway."

"And when the Targaryen girl comes to steal the crown from Cersei's head - What then? Will you go to save her, and leave me behind again? Will you start a war against the dragons?" but her answer was a tight hug.

"I will bow my head and bend the knee to the girl. I am tired of war. I am tired of being involved in the unjustly matters of the Crown, of my own family. I want no more part in any of it." Y/N's hand reached to caress the man's rough and scarred face.

"Can you, truly?" he nodded. "You will not desert me again?" he shook his head. "And you will love me more than you ever loved Cersei?"

"I have always love you more than I loved Cersei." Jaime admitted sincerely. "I just got caught in her lies... And in her bed. Everything she said... All her lies... I was too stupid, and I believed all of them." he muttered, kissing her forehead sweetly. "But no more of that. I cannot even stand the look of her - Not after what she did to Tyrion."

"... Alright, Jaime." she muttered, easing into his embrace. "But we are leaving the city tonight, without question."

"Anything for you, my Rose."

As promised, Jaime went to his father's tower and left the white cloak there, telling him he will become heir, and marry Y/N Tyrell; Let him believe in legacies all he wants - He is done living another man's dream - From now, he lives his own reverie.

With Tommen becoming King, and Margaery Queen, the Faith rose up, and the High Septon took over; They imprisoned Margy and Cersei - But the little rose was smart, of course, she was a Tyrell taught by the Queen of Thorns herself; Cersei, however, had the pride of a lioness, but not the smarts of it; With Tywin long dead, she was all alone in King's Landing and with no allies, save for an exiled maester, who was only able to deliver a letter to Casterly Rock - To Jaime, to come save her.

"Come at once.” she had written, in the letter he had Y/N burn in their shared chamber. “Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.” Her need was real enough, Jaime did not doubt. As for the rest … She’d been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and Moon Boy for all he knew … Even if he had gone back, he could not hope to save her. She was guilty of every treason laid against her, and he was short a sword hand, a loving heart, and good reason.

He had sworn a vow to protect his wife, and he was not going to break that one, even if the Gods will it - Especially not for his sister. He was done playing the hero - He was fine being Jaime the Cat Knight, or Jaime the Tumbler, or Jaime the Whatever-Nickname-Y/N-Came-Up-With for him; And even better, she kept her promise of coming up with a song for his greatness as the best cat-chaser to ever exist.

With no allies and no one to turn to, Cersei faced the walk of shame, but with that came revenge, in the form of wildfire, and the destruction of the Sept of Baelor, along with the young Queen and her brother, Loras Tyrell, and their father, Mace.

The news of her family dying at the hands of Cersei only fueled Y/N's need for revenge - And in turn, Highgarden rose against the Crown, and was ready to pledge their allegiance to the Dragon Queen - And so did Casterly Rock. The Queen may have her Crown, but will not have the coin, army nor support of her family.

And thus, the Dragon Queen moved to reclaim her Crown, starting a war; King’s Landing burned in the distance, a city of ashes and ghosts. The Red Keep loomed above, its once majestic silhouette tainted by the destruction Cersei had wrought. The Queen of Ashes, ruling over nothing but ruin. That is what she will always be known as.

Jaime and Y/N moved swiftly like shadows through the corridors, silent, unseen. The castle was quieter than it had ever been. The scent of fire still lingered in the air, mixed with the distant cries of the people who had lost their families..

At last, they reached Cersei’s chambers. Jaime placed a hand on the door, hesitating for the briefest moment. Y/N watched him, waiting. There was no doubt in her heart — He had already made his choice. She squeezed his arm, giving him all the courage she had.

He pushed the door open.

Cersei sat by the balcony, watching the war beneath her, with a goblet of wine in her hand, her golden hair, short and disheveled, her face pale and angered. The moment she saw them, her lips curled into something between relief and desperation. It was fake, as it has always been.

"Jaime! Y/N" she exhaled, standing quickly. "You came for me. I knew you would!" she let out a chuckle of relief. "I began to fear my letter never reached you!"

Jaime said nothing. His green eyes were unreadable, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her falter. "I threw it in the fire."

Y/N stepped forward, her own gaze burning on Cersei. "No one is coming to save you, Cersei. Not after everything you've done to us."

Cersei scoffed, though there was a tremor in her voice. "Of course you would hold a grudge like a love sick puppy getting kicked." she sneered at Y/N. "I thought you got over my brother. Shame."

Jaime exhaled sharply. "You always thought me weak over you, didn’t you? The smartest child Tywin had." sis voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "Well - You are not as smart as you think you are, Father was right about that."

Cersei’s gaze flickered to his, searching for the brother she once knew, the one she could twist around her little finger. But he was gone. "Jaime—"

"You were wrong to tear us apart." Cersei’s lips parted, confusion flashing across her face.

"I loved her." Jaime said, stepping closer. "I always loved her. Not you. Not the twisted thing you became. I was just too much of a blind fool to admit it."

Cersei staggered back a step. "You don’t mean that." she whispered. "You and I, we were meant to come into this world together, and we were meant to leave it together. Don’t you remember? Don’t you—"

"Valonqar." Y/N purred into Cersei's ear, placing her hands on her shoulder. Her voice was laced with amusement, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

Cersei paled. Y/N continued, tilting her head. "You always thought Tyrion would be the one to end you. But oh, sweet Cersei…" She stepped even closer. "You held Jaime's foot when you were delivered into this world, did you not?"

"No—" Jaime’s hand shot forward, wrapping around her throat.

Cersei’s eyes went wide. Her hands grasped at his wrist, but she was powerless against him. "Jaime — Please!" she gasped, her voice cracking, her nails clawing at his flesh. "We were— We are... I lov---"

His grip tightened. Tears welled in her eyes as she choked, her body convulsing, her knees buckling. Jaime leaned in close, his voice a whisper. "You destroyed everything we ever had. Everything I could have been." her lips parted, her breath shuddering, but no words came out. "I hate you, Cersei. Good riddance."

Her struggles weakened. Her fingers slipped from his wrist. Her eyes, once gorgeous, green and so full of fire, dulled. And then — Nothing.

Jaime let her lifeless body slump to the floor. For a moment, there was silence.

Y/N looked down at the corpse of the woman who had ruined and humiliated them both plenty of times. Cersei, the golden lioness of the Rock, now just another body, like all the casualties of war.

She turned to Jaime. He was staring at the lifeless form of his twin, his expression unreadable. Y/N stepped closer, reaching for him. He flinched, but she didn’t let go. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, grounding him. "She was never your sweet dream, my love." she whispered. "Only a night terror."

Jaime’s green eyes met hers, filled with something raw and aching. He exhaled, the weight of a lifetime of regret leaving his body. "Let’s go home, sweet Rose." he murmured. Y/N smiled softly. "You promised to sing to me that Ballad you wrote - About the Golden Knight and the Flower Nymph."

"Of course, my darling."

Hand in hand, they stepped over Cersei’s body and left the Red Keep for the last time. Daenerys Targaryen would get her throne, would marry the bastard of Ned Stark who turned out to be Elia Martell's son, Aegon Targaryen; And Tyrion would re-take his position as Hand of the Queen.

Y/N and Jaime would remain in Casterly Rock, where the sea met the stone, forever to enjoy each other's company, in a place where they could finally be free to live their sweet dream.

[americanwh0rerstory]

THE ANTICHRISTS FAVOURITE

Michael langdon x f!reader: platonic pairing

SUMMARY: reader and michael were best friends long ago. so when he shows up at outpost 3, what will happen?

CONTENT WARNING: none

A/N: i hate writing for michael because i can never perfect his character, but i need to get better at writing him for kinktober </3

NO NSFW ENJOY THE FIC

you had known michael for many years. forever his number 1 defender, and forever his best friend

you brought out the slither of goodness in him. he tried to suppress the evil urges and intentions, but for you he was good. occasionally you’d receive the odd dead rodent, but it was from michael so you never once complained

one day, however, he just disappeared. you never saw him again. constance refused to speak of him, and you couldn’t ever talk to the other ghosts of the murder house. save from moira, that was.

you never forgot michael. you never forgot the happy feeling you got when he was around, you never forgot that child-like grin he’d flash when he’s happy, you never forgot the gut wrenching feeling that flooded you when you realised he was gone. even years later you’d still cry over him, wondering what happened to your best friend

the world ended. you never got to say goodbye. you was hauled off to outpost 3 never knowing what happened to michael, you desperately hoped he would be there but he wasn’t. it was over, michael was gone…

for 18 more months.

when the long haired and mysterious man entered the outpost on behalf of the cooperative, it took you by surprise. something about him screamed familiarity yet you couldn’t place your finger on it

when addressing your living companions, his gaze lingered on you a few times but never for long. there was something in those seducing eyes that piqued your interest, something you wanted to get lost in. however you was soon snapped out of your trance when he said his name

“i am michael langdon” he said with confidence, the confidence of a natural born leader, someone with power, someone who could make heads then just from the way he carried himself.

it got even worse when the interviews began. you was second in the queue so whilst Mr. Gallant was being interviewed, all you felt was that sickly anxious feeling combining with the thumping in your chest. your heart sounded nearly like a hummingbird with how fast it was beating.

———————————————————————-

“take a seat” michael began when you entered his office, motioning to the conveniently placed chair. however you couldn’t hold back and wrapped him up in a tight hug, mumbling something about how much you missed him

after a moment of hesitation he returned the hug with one arm, holding you gently against his chest

“im not here for affectionate reunions Y/N. i still need to interview you for the position” he reminded you as he pulled away, towering over you with his imposing figure.

he practically probed into your brain with his question, asking invasive questions that made you question yourself. but it was necessary. you wanted, no, NEEDED that position. you needed to spend time with michael again

his cold and calculating gaze never left you for even a second, analysing your every move. every subtle twitch, the goosebumps rising on the back of your neck, the nervous tick you had of scratching your fingers. he saw it all.

“you’re different to what i remember. in the way you carry yourself, i mean” he begins. “a shell of your former self, more meek than you were ever before” he finished, stating it factually like the observational person he was

“that concludes the interview though. you may leave. i’ll see you soon”

it didn’t end there though. you snuck out of your bedroom that night, making your way to where michael was staying. you had to see him, just one final moment with him. just closure for the years of separation, at least that’s what you told yourself.

he was sleeping peacefully, laying flat on his back with his arms pressed to his sides. it looked almost corpselike with how stiff he seemed to be when he slept. but the second you closed the door behind you, his eyes snapped open.

“what’re you doing here? you’re not allowed to be outside your room, let alone in mine” he scolded, eyebrows knitting with confusion as to why you were here. his lips pursed together in a thin line, holding back some harsher words he could use.

“i just needed the closure, i haven’t seen you in so long that i needed a final goodbye” you explain softly, standing by his bed. he shifted over to allow you to sit down, which you did when prompted

“well you’ve seen me now. i have a job to do, Y/N. my father sent me for a reason” he sighs “just go back to your quarters, we have plenty of time tomorrow to ‘see’ each other” he dismissed you, but he noticed the frown that threatened to break out on your lips

“did i get in?” you ask as you grasp the doorhandle, ready to leave. your eyes were trained on michael as he settled himself back into his bed

“you was always in. i just needed everyone else to think they had a chance” michael admitted after a careful moment of hesitation, reluctant to tell you that fact.

“just don’t tell anyone, i’d like them to think this is non-biased. goodnight, Y/N

[melodymunson]

AHS, Michael Langdon, Duncan Shepherd, Xavier Plympton, Jim Mason, and Andy Dolan masterlist

My fics for Cody Fern and American Horror Story

Jim Mason x reader- drown in this love

Jim Mason x reader- nothing fucks with my baby

Jim Mason x reader x Duncan Shepherd x Michael Langdon x Andy Dolan- Adopting a pet

Xavier Plympton x reader x Montana Duke- wild side

Xavier, Montana, and reader attempt to have a drunk and high threesome at his apartment but when the reader fails to have a major orgasm and when the sex is less than expected, Montana steps in to finish off the job.

Michael Langdon x reader x Madison Montgomery- bad romance

Michael, Madison, and you are a couple at the outpost. All that is standing in their way is the coven of witches. When Michael catches you and Madison in the act he teaches you both a lesson you won't forget.

Duncan Shepherd x reader- birthday surprise

You decide to try and find yourself a good summer at Camp Redwood with your good friend Xavier despite the threat of Mr. Jingles. When you happen to stumble upon Brooke and Montana in the forbidden cabin, a wild night for you and Xavier ensues.

Xavier Plympton x reader x Montana Duke x Brooke Thompson

You decide to try and find yourself a good summer at Camp Redwood with your good friend Xavier despite the threat of Mr. Jingles. When you happen to stumble upon Brooke and Montana in the forbidden cabin, a wild night for you and Xavier ensues.

Duncan Shepherd x reader- forever and always

You meet Duncan at a charity fundraiser and after winning a date with you, he takes you out. Soon after you start dating him and go on many dates together, falling in love before you get your happy ever after with your one and only Prince Charming.

Jim Mason x OC multi-series Heart of Novocaine

Jim loves to party and has a drug problem but when he finds out that his best friend has a drinking problem, he decides to get help for both of them. He is in love with her. The problem? She already has a girlfriend and he has a girlfriend too. Are they a match made in heaven for each other or are they just another lesson in each other's lives?

Duncan Shepherd x OC multi-series Strangelove

Duncan and his girlfriend Rose have been together for going on two years. They care deeply about each other. She has a secret though that he doesn’t know. Their relationship will be put to the test and their boundaries will be pushed. Will they be able to stay together or will their relationship start to unravel?

Duncan Shepherd x OC multi-series Another life

(Inspired partly by Eli Roth's/Keanu Reeves movie Knock Knock).

Duncan and his girlfriend of almost 3 years have their relationship put to the test when she goes away on a trip and Duncan is left at home until he receives a visit that will change his life forever. Crossover with American Horror Story Apocalypse and the Outpost/Michael Langdon.

Michael Langdon x reader multi-series Waiting For a Girl Like You

Michael is a player and reader knew him when they were kids. You go your separate ways and later cross paths again in college. You can't help but feel an attraction towards him. He ends up becoming your Italian tutor and you both come to know each other again. The problem? Michael is a fuckboy. Will your and Michael's rekindled friendship turn into something more or will you stay friends/FWB?

Surviving the Apocalypse- Michael Langdon x OC witches series

Who will survive the apocalypse? Its the end of the world. Michael, Coco, Gallant, Mallory, Venable, Mead, 2 witches Harmony and Scarlet, among others are some of the lucky few to survive. Or are they? They will be tested and pushed to their limits. Michael must test those left alive in outpost 3 but will he be able to resist temptation?

Andy Dolan x reader (abandoned wip)

Andy and reader had a tumultous and often complicated relationship and neither wanted things to end. They dated for almost 4 years but never married and even had a kid together and it was a girl named Opal.

Duncan Shepherd x reader x Emily Nelson (Simple Favor crossover oneshot).

Reader is best friends with Emily and dating professor Duncan. One night they decide to take their relationship to the next level with Emily once reader reveals her true feelings for the other woman.

Michael Langdon x reader oneshot- If I was Your Vampire

Michael Langdon x wife reader x Mallory oneshot (WIP)

Michael and you are married and in the outpost 3 together. When Mallorys true intentions and identity are shown she gets exposed and Michael and you make her pay.

@langdonss

[thethreeeyed-raven]

⋆♱ AHS ♱⋆

navigation

🕷️fluff | 🕸️angst | 🐈‍⬛suggestive | 🪦platonic

⋆♱ MURDER HOUSE ♱⋆

⋆♱ Tate Langdon ♱⋆

🕷️ • meeting him in the murder house | gn!reader • part two

headcanons

⋆♱ Violet Harmon ♱⋆

🕷️ • being her best friend | headcanons | x gn!reader

⋆♱ ASYLUM ♱⋆

⋆♱ Kit Walker ♱⋆

🕷️ • the first step | x fem!reader

🕸️ • it’s okay to cry | x gn!reader

🕷️ • 🕸️ • home | x gn!reader

⋆♱ COVEN ♱⋆

⋆♱ Kyle Spencer ♱⋆

🕷️ • party party | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Misty Day ♱⋆

🕷️ • listening to fleetwood mac with her | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Nan ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Queenie ♱⋆

🕷️ • being her best friend | headcanons | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Zoe Benson ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ FREAKSHOW ♱⋆

⋆♱ Dandy Mott ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Jimmy Darling ♱⋆

🕷️ • defending him | x gn!reader

⋆♱ HOTEL ♱⋆

⋆♱ James Patrick March ♱⋆

🕷️ • buying him a dog | headcanons | x reader

⋆♱ Tristan Duffy ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ CULT ♱⋆

⋆♱ Ally Mayfair-Richards ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Beverly Hope ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Kai Anderson ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ APOCALYPSE ♱⋆

⋆♱ Cordelia Goode ♱⋆

🕸️ • as i watch you die | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Michael Langdon ♱⋆

🕸️ • qui totum vult totum perdit | x gn!reader

🕷️ • halloween party | x gn!reader

🕷️ • trick or treating | x gn!reader

🕷️ • bonfire night | x gn!reader

🕷️ • 5th of November | x gn!reader

🕷️ • new years | x gn!reader

🕷️ • valentines together | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Mr Gallant ♱⋆

🕷️ • being his best friend | headcanons | x gn!reader

⋆♱ 1984 ♱⋆

⋆♱ Bobby Richter ♱⋆

🕷️ • 🕸️ • 🪦 • finally | x sibling!reader

⋆♱ Xavier Plympton ♱⋆

🕷️ • i cared too much that it killed me | x gn!reader

⋆♱ DOUBLE FEATURE ♱⋆

⋆♱ Austin Sommers ♱⋆

🕷️ • 🕸️ • saving you from the pale people | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Harry Gardner ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ TB Karen ♱⋆

🕷️ • inspiration | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Valiant Thor ♱⋆

nothing yet

@lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom • @fangsp1der-2099 • @knight-of-flowerss

[enchantedruin]

The Devil's Game | Michael Langdon x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary; You’ve reached your breaking point with Michael's unwavering temptations, leading you to emotionally unravel in front of him. Michael x Reader, written in Michael’s POV SFW-ish, with light NSFW content towards the end (just some making out tho)

word count; 1220

-~-~-

"You know what’s funny, Michael? No matter how hard I try to pull myself together, one word from you and it all unravels. You thrive on that, don’t you?"

I usually do thrive on that. The despair in your voice, the way you look at me with such loathing—it should have been invigorating. But this time, something about the disgust laced in your words made me recoil.

It was pathetic. Flashbacks of Gallant flickered through my mind—how utterly powerless he was in the end. Perhaps I should be bored by now, but I let you keep…venting, your voice rising with each word, barely giving me the space to draw a breath.

"Why can't you leave me alone? No. It’s worse... why can’t I just run away when I see you?" you continued, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

You think you have a choice in this.

"You’re wrong," I cooed, my tone deceptively soft. "You ask why I can’t leave you alone, but you forget something crucial." I let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching the confusion in your eyes. "You’re the one that keeps coming back."

It’s the truth. You could have left, run away the moment you saw me. But here you are, standing before me, defiant yet unable to tear yourself away.

Your defiance is admirable, but it’s a game I’ve played before. I know how it ends.

I tilted my head, considering the possibility. "Perhaps you don’t run because, despite everything, you want this. You want to face me, fight me, even if it tears you apart. Because in the end, what would you be without this struggle... without me?"

"Don’t act like I’ll ever let you take full control of me," you shot back, your voice strong despite the fear and panic in your eyes. "I’ve realized you’re nothing but a test from Him."

Watching you lose it is fun. I remained silent, content to observe as you unraveled, peeling back layers of your psyche one by one, offering them to me without even having to ask.

"Fine! If I have to stay close to you, if that makes me a pawn in this sick game, then so be it! But don’t think for a second it’s for you. I’m here to watch you, to use you, just like he did. I’ll be no better than your father—keeping you in check, using you as my pawn to serve the light. I’ll make sure you never slip beyond it."

Ah, so you want to play that game. Comparing yourself to my Father. You think you can use me, that you’re somehow secretly in control.

How naive.

I narrowed my eyes, the mention of my Father sparking a familiar, simmering anger deep within me. You were trying to provoke me, trying to get under my skin, but I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of seeing me lose my composure.

"You think you can use me?" I asked, letting a small, almost amused smile curve my lips. "You really believe you can turn the tables? My father dealt in pawns. I deal in kings and queens—media moguls, elites. Stop playing with fire, you don’t even realize how close you are to getting burned."

I took a step closer, watching you carefully, noting the way your breath hitched ever so slightly.

"You believe you’re in control, that this is some grand strategy of yours. But you’re forgetting one thing, my dear," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper as I leaned in close, my breath warm against your skin. "You’re already playing my game."

The space between us had all but disappeared. I could feel the heat radiating from your body, the way your breath hitched as I spoke. You were erratic, every muscle tensed as if you were ready to either fight or flee. But I could see it in your eyes—fleeing wasn’t an option. Not now.

Your gaze flickered, searching my face for something, anything you could use to regain the upper hand. But I gave you nothing. My expression remained calm, collected, unlike the confliction brewing behind your eyes. You were coming undone before me, and I could see the frustration in the way your jaw clenched, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

I let a moment of silence hang between us, the tension thick, almost tangible. You were so close now that I could count every rapid rise and fall of your chest, every tremor in your lips as you fought to maintain composure.

"You know," I began, my voice smooth, almost conversational, "It’s amusing how hard you try to resist me, when deep down, we both know you’re just waiting for permission to give in."

Your eyes widened, anger flashing in them, but I continued before you could protest.

"You say you want control, but here you are, standing in front of me, unable to even decide whether you want to punch me or...." I tilted my head slightly, my gaze dropping to your lips before slowly returning to your eyes, daring you to challenge me.

You stared at me, a mix of fury and confusion twisting your features. For a moment, you were utterly silent, no sharp retort on your tongue, no defiant comeback. The realization of what I’d just said seemed to hit you like a tidal wave, and I could see the conflict in your eyes—anger, disbelief, and something else, something far more dangerous.

It was in that moment, when you realized you had nothing left to say, that you acted.

Without warning, you grabbed me by the collar, your movements abrupt, driven by something beyond logic. And then your lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding. It was a kiss born of frustration, defiance, and something raw that neither of us had the strength to deny any longer.

For a brief second, I allowed myself to be surprised. This wasn’t the reaction I’d anticipated—at least, not so soon. But as your lips moved against mine, the force of your passion pulling me deeper into the kiss, I found myself almost... impressed.

I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let you take what you needed, feeling the intensity as your tongue played with mine. The kiss was rough, almost frantic, as if you were trying to assert some kind of control, your hands gripping my collar with a desperate need.

Now your hands were gripping the back my head, your delicate fingers curling tightly into my hair, demanding a response, and after a moment, I placed my hands on your waist, steadying you, though I still let you lead. My touch was firm but unhurried, a unlike the fervor of your kiss. I could feel the heat of your breath, the tension in your body as you pressed closer, your heart pounding against my chest.

An unexpected, breathless moan escaped me as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. I could feel the undercurrent of your uncertainty, your need for something you couldn’t quite name, it was undeniably arousing. I remained composed, allowing you to pour everything into this one moment.

But even as this passion consumed you, I knew one thing for certain: you might think you had taken the lead, but you were still playing my game. ♥

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

“Mary Prays The Rosary For My Broken Mind” (An AHS Apocalypse Fanfic) Michael Langdon x Fem! OC: Part 1

Gone. The whole world was now an ashen plain of radioactive debris and corpses. Primrose Murphy rocked herself back and forth, her knees pulled close to her chest as she wept in her room in Outpost Three. She had no idea where she was, or why she had been chosen to live. The more she cried, the less it seemed to matter. She would never see her mother again. Hours passed by, and she knew dinner would be approaching. ‘I should get ready,’ Primrose thought. But she didn’t move from her spot on the floor. She reached for the place her wooden rosary used to rest, but quickly remembered that Wilhelmina Venable had taken it, along with her normal clothes because of “risk of contamination”. She almost laughed with bitterness, but her throat was too tight. “If you’re watching, Lord Jesus, know that I am beyond angry. No words can describe that of a girl left in a desolate apocalypse without her beloved mother. I’m filled with so much hatred and sadness, I could almost hate you.” Primrose whispered. “Almost.”

She stood up, brushing her skirt off, and wandering towards the dark wooden armoire. Primrose opened the doors and touched the fine fabrics of elegant gowns. Half-heartedly selecting a blush satin one, she tried it on. It fit perfectly, the matching earrings glittering mockingly in the candlelight. “Well, time to eat that cube we always get. At least Emily will be there.” This was her nineteenth week at Outpost Three, and her friendship with Emily had grown as much as it could under the circumstances. Primrose’s stomach was growling vigorously. She made her way towards the music room, wiping her tears and focusing on the sound of the damask fabric of her dress sweeping quickly over the tiled floor. 

The same song they had heard a hundred times played softly. Emily got up out of her seat and greeted Primrose by pulling her aside. “You’ve been crying again?” Emily whispered with concern. Primrose nodded. “You’ll never believe what happened to me earlier.” Emily continued, eyes wide. 

“What?” she responded, genuinely curious.

“I was lying in bed and then I heard this sound. Next thing I know, a bunch of poisonous snakes are slithering all over my bedroom, ready to attack me!” Emily explained. “I only escaped unscathed because Miriam Mead heard my screams, and killed the snakes by chopping off their heads.” 

Primrose gasped. “How did they get in here? I thought... everything was dead or contaminated.”

“I don’t know, but I have a sinking suspicion they’ll be in our dinner.” Emily sighed. “I’m starting to think this place is hell disguised as a shelter from the apocalypse.” 

--BANG. Wilhelmina Venable announced her presence by pounding her cane on the floor. “Dinner is served.” The occupants of Outpost Three made their way to the dining room, where there were large bowls on the table of something hot, presumably soup, covered with lids. “Today we feast humbly on the very fruits of the earth that have revealed themselves to us.” Venable stated without an ounce of genuine emotion. “Consider yourselves lucky to have this meal.”

“Snake?” Primrose mouthed out to Emily who sat across from her. Emily nodded, swallowing nervously before lifting the lid off of the soup bowl in front of her. Primrose followed suit, staring down at the steamed and chopped serpent in the bowl as her stomach growled and lurched simultaneously. 

She glanced at Venable, and when she looked back down she shrieked, stumbling backwards and knocking over her chair as she was met with a hissing bowl of now fully intact vipers. Mr. Gallant and Timothy were next to jump back, shouting in surprise to see their dangerous dinner come to life. Even Venable seemed mildly phased.

Miriam and some of the other workers their started killing the snakes (again), and collecting their corpses, swiftly taking them out of the dining room. Emily and Timothy exited the dining room, exchanging frightened whispers to each-other in the hall. Primrose stood frozen, mouth gaping, unable to get over her shock. 

Finally, Emily and Timothy and the other residents calmed down enough to gather in the library, assured repeatedly by Wilhelmina that the serpents were gone. 

Footsteps echoed in the hall, someone unexpected approaching, and the heaviness of doom filled the air. Primrose looked down at her hands folded in her lap, closing her eyes and saying a silent prayer. The newcomer passed behind her, and she lost concentration, unable to finish the prayer. When she looked up, a man stood at the head of the room, in front of the fireplace. The most handsome man she had ever seen.

His light green blue-grey eyes briefly met her own dark stare, before he looked towards Venable with irritation as he addressed the residents of Outpost Three. “My name is Langdon and I represent the Cooperative.” He spoke. “I won’t sugarcoat the situation. Humanity is on the brink of failure. My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on earth. The three other compounds have been overrun and destroyed. We have had no contact from the six other internantional Outposts, so its logical to assume they too have been eliminated.”

“What h-happened to the people... living in them?” Primrose managed, nervously fingering the fabric of her sleeves. 

“Massacred.” Langdon said, with a hint of amusement. Primrose’s heart skipped a beat. “The same fate that will befall almost all of you...” 

“Almost all?” Mallory spoke up from one of the dimmer corners where the greys were standing.” 

Langdon disregarded her commentary. “In the knowledge that this might occur, we built a failsafe. The Sanctuary. The Sanctuary is unique, it has certain measures that will prevent overrun.”

Miriam Mead stepped forward. “Excuse me sir, why weren’t these measures given to us?”

“That’s classified.” Langdon replied. “All that matters is that the sanctuary will...survive, so the people populating it will survive, so humanity will survive. However, I’ve been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us.” His mesmerizing gaze once again landed on Primrose. “The Cooperative has developed a specific and unique way of interrogation. We like to call it cooperating. I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong.”

Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt spoke up, shaking her head in frustration. “What is this, the Hunger Games?” She sneered. “This is bullshit! I paid my way in here, and that is the only cooperating I intend to do.”

“You don’t have to sit for questioning.” Langdon said. 

“What happens if we choose not to?” Andre spoke up.

“Then you stay here and die.” He responded. 

“I... volunteer to go first..” Primrose said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she had thought them through.

“And so you shall.” Langdon smirked. “The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won’t be kept in suspense forever. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you...”

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

Primrose sat in a room, completely alone, save Langdon, who sat staring at her. She shifted in her seat nervously. “So... what sort of questions are you planning on asking?”

“I’m not going to reveal the criteria I’m using, if that’s what you’re asking... Prim.” Langdon said, standing up and walking behind Primrose. He placed his hands on her shoulders gently, and despite the overwhelming feeling of danger, she let out a soft sigh of pleasure. The way he shortened her name made her feel he was familiar with her already in an intimate way. Primrose tried desperately to think of something that might distract her from the way one of his hands slid down and rested on her left breast. 

“Sir-”

“-Your heart is racing. You should try and relax.” He suggested, almost sympathetically. Primrose bit her lip. Just when she thought her heartbeat was on the verge of slowing down, Langdon asked his next question. “What’s your sexual orientation?”

Primrose stood up, pulling away from the hypnotic touch of her interrogator. “I’m s-st-straight.” She backed away quickly, feeling the presence of evil in her midst. “Why are you....” she paused. Her back met a wall and the mysterious man advanced until he was inches from her face. “Langdon-”

“You can call me Michael for now,” he said, licking his lips, wicked amusement written all over his face. “Tell me about your mother.”

Primrose wracked her mind for what to say. Finally she spoke. “My mom was a wonderful woman. You... you could see the light of life in her smile. She was very religious, and always told me to be careful who I trusted with my heart.” Primrose said, attempting indignance . Instead her voice came out weak and filled with sadness. “Why do you want to know about her?”

“That’s of no consequence.” Michael replied quickly, pulling away and slowly pacing the room. “Have you ever trusted anyone with your heart before?”

Primrose shook her head, exhaling in relief to not be under his intense gaze for that moment. 

“And your body? Who have you trusted with your flesh?” He said, taking a seat again at his desk and staring at his computer.

“I’ve never... done things like that.” Primrose said awkwardly, blushing despite herself. 

Michael Langdon typed a few things on his computer without looking up. “That’s all, Miss Murphy.” He said, gesturing with his hand for her to leave.

Primrose quickly left the room, heading straight for her bedroom. ‘What strange questions... was he really asking them to analyze whether or not I was fit for the sanctuary? Or...” Prim shook the thought from her head. “Its possible my sexual orientation is important because of repopulation and all. Still...’ She closed the door and undid the corset of her dress as best as she could, then flopped on her bed. “Something about Langdon feels... wrong.” she muttered as she drifted off to sleep. 

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

Please Reblog If You Enjoyed! Part 2 Is Coming Soon! 

[news4dzhozhar]

Murder and rhetoric: How SA built its genocide case against Israel

The genocide case against Israel opened this month at the International Court of Justice at The Hague where South Africa is looking to prove that Israel is committing genocide in the Palestinian enclave.

Fighting “human animals.” Making Gaza a “slaughterhouse”. And “erasing Gaza from the face of the earth.”

Such inflammatory rhetoric by Israel has become a key component of the genocide case against Israel at the UN world court, where South Africa is accusing Tel Aviv of crimes against humanity by targetting innocent Palestinians in the occupied territories.

South Africa says the language — in comments by Israeli leaders, soldiers and entertainers about Palestinians in Gaza since Hamas’ October 7 cross-border attacks — is proof of Israel’s intent to commit genocide.

Israeli leaders have downplayed the comments and doubled down on the military offensive in Gaza that has led to the massacre of nearly 24,000 people, most of them women and children.

Rights groups and activists say the jingoistic rhetoric is an inevitable byproduct of Israel's decades-old, open-ended rule over the Palestinians and that they've intensified during the brutal war on Gaza. They say such language has been left unchecked, inciting violence and dehumanising Palestinians.

“Words lead to deeds,” said Michael Sfard, a prominent Israeli lawyer. “Words that normalise or legitimise serious crimes against civilians create the social, political and moral basis for other people to do things like that.”

The genocide case against Israel opened last week at the International Court of Justice at The Hague. South Africa is looking to prove that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza and that Israel has specific intent to commit genocide. It is using the litany of harsh statements as part of the evidence in its case.

With the ground offensive getting underway in late October, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu cited the Bible in a televised address: “You must remember what Amalek has done to you.” Amalekites were persecutors of the biblical Israelites, and a biblical commandment says they must be destroyed.

South Africa argued that the remarks showed Israel's intent to commit genocide against Palestinians. Netanyahu denied that this week and said he was referring to Amalek as a way to describe Hamas and its attack.

Two days after the Hamas attack, Defence Minister Yoav Gallant said Israel was “fighting human animals,” in announcing a complete siege on Gaza.

Deputy Knesset speaker Nissim Vaturi from the ruling Likud party wrote on X, formerly known as Twitter, that Israelis had one common goal, “erasing the Gaza Strip from the face of the earth.” Israeli Heritage Minister Amichay Eliyahu, from the far-right Jewish Power party, suggested that Israel drop a nuclear bomb on Gaza and said there were “no uninvolved civilians” in the territory.

Israeli soldiers were caught on video making similar remarks as they sang and danced in the early days of Israel’s ground offensive.

On Oct. 7, a journalist wrote on X that Gaza should become “a slaughterhouse” if the roughly 250 people taken hostage by Hamas were not returned.

Military officials and two Israeli pop singers are also cited by South Africa for making inflammatory comments.

“The language of systemic dehumanisation is evident here,” lawyer Tembeka Ngcukaitobi said for South Africa in remarks before the court. “Genocidal utterances are therefore not out in the fringes. They are embodied in state policy.”

South Africa is asking for a series of legally binding rulings declaring that Israel is breaching “its obligations under the Genocide Convention” — a decision that could take years — and for a binding interim order that Israel cease hostilities, a ruling on which is expected in the coming weeks.

Defending Israel in court, lawyer Malcolm Shaw said the remarks were made mostly by officials with little role in determining Israeli policy, calling them “random quotes” that were misleading and had been, in some cases, repudiated by Netanyahu.

But Roy Schondorf, a former Israeli deputy attorney general, said in an interview that the statements still carried risk, even out of context: “It would have been better if some of these remarks had not been said.”

Israel argued that its justice system would take action against unacceptable speech. But critics say statements against Palestinians have gone unpunished or undenounced. Lawyer Sfard appealed to the country’s attorney general earlier this month on behalf of a group of prominent Israeli figures, demanding to know why the rhetoric hasn't been reined in.

In a statement two days before the case launched at the world court, Attorney General Gali Baharav Miara said calling for intentional harm to civilians could amount to a criminal offense and that Israeli authorities were examining several such cases, without elaborating. The comments appeared to be aimed at heading off the South African accusations.

Mainstreaming the rhetoric

The war is being fought under Israel’s most hardline government ever, dominated by far-right Cabinet ministers with a long record of controversial remarks well before Oct. 7.

Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich once called for “erasing” a Palestinian West Bank town. National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir -- a rabble-rousing ultra-nationalist -- talked of the supremacy of freedom of movement  for illegal Jewish settlers in the occupied West Bank over that same right for Palestinians.

While little appears to have been done to confront violent rhetoric directed at Palestinians, Palestinian citizens of Israel who have shown empathy for people in Gaza are facing a crackdown, according to Adalah, a legal rights group. Police say the speech amounts to "incitement, promotes violence or shows support for terror groups".

Adalah says at least 270 Palestinian citizens of Israel have had some sort of interaction with law enforcement — arrests, investigations or warnings, with at least 86 charged for speech offenses. Some Jewish Israelis who expressed sympathy for Palestinians have also faced arrest or sanction by their employers.

Aeyal Gross, a professor of international law at Tel Aviv University, said that how Israel responds to the inflammatory rhetoric matters in the case with South Africa, because Israel, as a signatory to the Genocide Convention, is prohibited not only from committing genocide but also from inciting to genocide.

Gross said that it was probably too late for Israel to take steps that show it doesn’t condone such speech. Punishing such remarks could have sent a message to the court as well as to Israeli society that the state doesn’t tolerate incendiary rhetoric.

“It’s important because it would have said, ‘It’s not our intent,’" he said. "But it’s also important because it would have meant we are sending the soldiers on the ground a message not to act in this way.”

[saintlucretia]

Devil Wears A Suit

part Ⅰ

Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mention of murder. Hot devil's son. Sexual harassment? Michael Langdon.

Summary: Y/N is a purple at Outpost 3 and gets interviewed by Mr. Langdon.

A/N: I will go to hell for this and I am not opposing if he will be there too.

After 18 months at the underground Outpost life was as dreadful as being killed by a bomb explosion. Or worse. A bunch of snobs and shallow cowards. It was clear as day, that it was just a matter of time before everyone was at each other's throats. 

It wasn’t the Outpost itself or the fact that we are the last human beings on this planet that made everything so depressing. It was boredom. A hole in my head. The only bearable person here was Mr. Gallant. Without his company at the dining table, I could have stuck a fork into my neck.

That evening Ms. Venable announced to us about a visitor. The agent of the Cooperative. Even though she remained calm as usual I sensed a note of fear in her voice. So it means this new man has great authority. I was grateful for any kind of entertainment, even if it meant a bloody revolution. After 18 months with the same people, fresh meat is always dainty.

Ms. Venable ended her speech when a tall man with long blond hair entered the room. He had a dark aura. The aura of power.

“My name is Langdon and I represent The Cooperative,” he said, circling our table. “Humanity is on the brink of failure.”

I glanced at the other residents of the Outpost. They all looked tense and nervous, especially Ms. Venable. She seemed almost afraid of him. Only Mr. Gallant seemed as amused as me. We glanced at each other and I immediately understood what was on his mind. After all, he had a good taste in men.

“My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth.” His speech was persuasive, words sharp and his blue eyes pierced into all of us. Such an ability to capture everyone's attention was making me delighted.

He stopped at the head of the table and continued. “The three other compounds have been overrun and destroyed.”

“What happened to the people inside?” asked Timothy worried. 

“Massacred,” answered Langdon and I think I caught the shadow of a grin on his face.

I bit my lip to stop myself from chuckling. I had to admit, this Langdon was a very attractive man. And Mr. Gallant was obviously admiring his appearance too. But there was something about The Cooperative representative that made me feel uneasy. It was as if he was hiding something. Something very bad. 

“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe… The Sanctuary,” he said, placing his hands behind his back. “I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us. The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call ‘Cooperating’. Simply, I will determine if you belong.”

I remained silent, analyzing the situation. Everyone seemed wary and looked at others with distrust. Only Coco didn’t have enough brains to remain silent and tried to openly express her dissatisfaction. Fortunately, her tirade was abruptly suppressed.

“I volunteer to go first.” Mr. Gallant raised his hand. 

“And so you shall,” Langdon said threateningly, looking us over. He had a cold, calculating look in his eyes. I had a feeling that he already knew who he was going to select.

“The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won’t be kept in suspense forever. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you.” I felt his gaze on me and barely restrained myself from looking away. 

Langdon left the room and everyone immediately started to argue. A bunch of morons, all of them. I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, observing the conversation. Everyone began to share their suspicions and guesses, but of course, they were all too wrapped up in their own fear to notice the whole thing. The Cooperative looked at us as laboratory rats and no one seemed to see that. Pathetic. 

I let out a sigh of annoyance and left the room.

                                                      ✦✦✦

I ran into Malcolm in the hallway an hour later and looked at him questioningly. 

“Oh, darling, I almost had a heart attack." He came closer and started whispering "I'm a bit scared of him. He is definitely hot as hell, but twice as evil."

I chuckled. "Well, that's quite a review. Did he tell you anything new?"  

Mr. Gallant leaned even closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "He asked me a lot of personal questions...I mean really personal."  

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

“Like my sexuality for example. And my nana. And other… things. Pretty intimate. I felt so uncomfortable, but I tried to keep it cool.” 

My eyebrows furrowed in interest. So these "Cooperating" sessions were, indeed, quite unique. It seemed like Langdon wanted to know every minuscule detail about each person. I began to wonder what kind of "personal" questions he would ask me. I also began to wonder why I was so looking forward to the moment. 

“I felt like he was trying to rip out my soul.” Added Malcolm in a whisper.

I smirked. "Well, that's quite a dramatic way to describe it." Malcolm chuckled nervously but I had a feeling that he wasn't exaggerating. Langdon was certainly not the type of man that you could fool easily. He could see right through people.

But something was intriguing. I felt a strange thrill at the idea of uncovering the depth of Langdon's scrutiny. 

 "I guess I'll have to brace myself for my turn then," I said nonchalantly.

“Good luck sweetheart.” We kissed each other on the cheek and went in different directions.

I slowly walked to my quarters, lost in thought. I was feeling an inexplicable mixture of excitement and curiosity. The thought of being examined by Langdon, being exposed under the watchful gaze of his sharp eyes, was somehow appealing. God, I have to stop.

I shook my head firmly, trying to dismiss these thoughts. "This is ridiculous," I mumbled to myself softly.

Suddenly I heard something. Something like a scream perhaps. I stopped and looked around. There was no one except me in this dimly lit hall. And then this sound again. More like a whisper now. Millions of whispers. My head began to spin slightly. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Silence. Everything went quiet. I turned around and flinched as I saw Langdon behind me.

“Mrs. Y/S, I’d like to talk with you next.” 

I looked up at Langdon with a surprised expression, silently cursing myself for being so lost in my thoughts to the point of not noticing him coming closer. His presence was so powerful that it still made my heart flutter even now.

"Lead the way," I replied, trying to maintain my composure. 

Langdon didn't bother answering, simply gesturing for me to follow him. I walked behind him through the maze of halls and rooms. 

We finally reached the entrance to what appeared to be his cabinet. Langdon stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. Entering the room, I noticed how dark and ominous it felt. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with old leather-bound volumes. The main source of light was a fireplace.

Langdon gestured for me to sit down on the armchair across from him. I lowered myself gently, straightening my purple dress. 

He studied me, wanted me to be nervous, wanted me to crack. I knew this game. I have played this game with many different powerful men, who think they are Gods because they have dicks. I never lose in a game like this.

His eyes searched my face, trying to find any sign of weakness. But I held his gaze firmly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated.

I leaned back in my seat, a small smirk on my lips. "I see you're expecting me to be quivering in my boots," I said with a hint of sarcasm.

Langdon chuckled darkly. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. 

A silence fell between us, and I held his gaze without flinching. Something about his demeanor made my heart beat a little faster, but I was determined not to show it.

“I prefer conversations to be effective, Mr. Langdon.”

Langdon raised an eyebrow at my remark, a smirk forming his lips. He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "Straight to the point, are we?" 

He studied me for a moment, his eyes still locked onto mine.

"Well, I can appreciate a straightforward woman," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth. "It makes the process much more efficient."

He paused for a moment, his gaze never faltering. "Ms. Y/S," he began, my name rolling off his tongue like a sinful whisper. "Allow me to ask you a personal question."

“Ask,” I replied.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His eyes were laser-focused on me, and I could practically feel his gaze trying to pierce through my soul. 

"What do you fear the most?" he asked, his tone almost gentle.

I was caught off guard by the question and made a mistake. Langdon noticed the slight flicker of surprise in my eyes. He chuckled softly. "That's what I thought," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "You may have mastered the art of bravado, but everyone has a weakness," he continued. "And I'm here to find yours." 

I watched him back and after crossing my legs answered "I fear being surrounded by idiots for the rest of my life." I needled.

Langdon raised an eyebrow, visibly amused. "Well, you certainly have a way with words, don't you?", he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

He leaned back in his seat, studying me closely. "Being trapped in a group of lesser minds for eternity may be torturous, especially for a woman of your... intelligence."

“For a man of your power, it’s a pity that you use flattery as a term of manipulation,” I said, tilting my head in a mocking manner. 

Langdon chuckled, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Ah, so observant," he said, still maintaining his smirk. 

He leaned slightly forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'm not just using flattery, Ms. Y/S. I do recognize your intellect. But don't mistake my compliments for manipulation. I simply use the tools at my disposal."

“Huh.”

Langdon chuckled again, clearly appreciating my dry response. "You have a sharp tongue," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “It may be your unique feature or a pathetic attempt to hide your fear.”

I could feel a flicker of irritation at his words, but I forced myself to remain impassive. Langdon was trying to get a reaction out of me, and I was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Perhaps it's a little bit of both," I replied, my voice cool and steady. "Or perhaps you're simply not used to people who don't cower easily in front of someone higher in rank."

He stood up from his seat and started circling me slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. “Be careful, Ms. Y/S. Your bold attitude is admirable, but at some point, this can play a cruel joke on you.”  His gaze burned into me as he studied me from every possible angle.

“I appreciate the warning,” I said coldly. “I don't fear intimidation tactics.”

“You are a brave woman.” Langdon's voice was suddenly close behind me, his breath lingering on the nape of my neck. A small shiver ran down my spine, and I had to suppress the urge to turn around and look at him.

“A little too brave, some would say.” he continued, his words almost a whisper. “Tell me, Ms. Y/S, is it hard to be the smartest in the room? To be forced to communicate with idiots?”

There was a hint of mockery in his tone that made me nauseous. But I still refused to let him see any sign of weakness. I sat up straighter in my chair, lifting my chin.

“It can be... annoying at times,” I admitted.

“It is irritating how arrogant the upper class is, isn’t it? Especially toward women.” I felt the touch of his fingers on my arm and I barely restrained myself from snatching my hand away. “The world before the bombs wasn’t that much brighter than this one, was it? They all mistreated you, and never took you seriously… Does the idea of them having everything infuriate you?”

His words hit a nerve, the subtle truth in them cutting through my defenses. Yes, the world before the bombings was far from perfect, and I had my fair share of disappointments.

But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had managed to hit a weak spot. I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. “And what makes you think you're any different from them?”

He chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing along my skin, tracing patterns against the fabric of my dress. His nonchalant arrogance was both infuriating and strangely enthralling. 

“Oh, I never claimed to be any different," he responded, his voice low and husky. “But I will say this - I appreciate intelligence, especially in women. I can see your potential.”

“Potential,” I repeated, struggling to keep my tone even. “For what, exactly?”

Langdon ignored my question. His hands, now both on my arms, crawled up to my shoulders. “Have you ever thought about punishing them? About finally showing what you are capable of, so they would never think you are only ‘pretty face’ again?” His breath tickled my ear. “Have you ever thought about making them scared of you?”

His hands on my shoulders were deceptively gentle, yet they seemed to burn against my skin through the fabric of my dress. His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered his words, making my breath hitch in my throat. 

I felt a strange mixture of anger and... excitement at his words. The thought had crossed my mind more than once if I was being honest with myself. To show them ALL how strong and brilliant I truly was. To shuffle a knife into someone’s throat. I remained silent. 

“I sense this force in you, Y/N.”

His voice seemed to fill the space between us, wrapping around me like a dark, intimate spell. He leaned closer, his chest almost pressed against my back. His hands remained on my shoulders, his fingers gently massaging my tense muscles. 

There was something about his voice, the way he said my name, that sent a shiver down my spine. It was as if he could see right through me, past the cool exterior I had been trying to maintain. He knew about the anger, the desire, the fire burning within me.

“I can tell you have a dark side,” he murmured, his voice deep and low. 

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“Yes, you do.” His hands continue to stroke my shoulders gently. He was amused by my denial.

“You don't have to play coy with me, Ms. Y/N," he said, his voice velvety smooth. “I can feel it radiating off of you. That simmering anger, that burning desire."

Langdon leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against my ear. “You want... power. And I can promise you that.”

His words were a seductive murmur, weaving their way into my mind and planting thoughts of power and revenge. It was as if he knew exactly what buttons to push, what desires to awaken within me. 

"Power," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My mind was swimming, both alarmed and intrigued by his proposal. I felt like I was hypnotized. "Why… What’s the point?"

Langdon chuckled softly, noticing the effect his words were having on me. He stepped away from me, his hands finally leaving my shoulders. He walked around the chair, standing in front of me again.

"Because, my dear," he began, "I've observed your potential. Your intelligence, your resourcefulness, your strength. You're not like the other people in this house. You have ambition. And ambition can lead to power."

He tilted up my chin gently, so I could meet his gaze. "And I can help you achieve it." His thumb traced my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine.

When his finger brushed against my bottom lip I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He smirked and leaned closer, his face only a few inches away from mine.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery. “Did my touch... unsettle you?”

With a swift, almost graceful movement, Langdon sank to his knees in front of me. His hand found its way to my knee, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of my dress.

“I think the interview is over,” I said, trying to stand up, but he pressed on my knee, not letting me get up.

“I will decide if it’s over or not, Ms. Y/S,” Langdon smirked at my silence, slowly running his hand higher up my thigh. He could clearly see the effect he was having on me, the slight tremble in my body.

“What?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “No witty comeback? No clever quip? Seems like you're losing your grip.”

"Losing my grip?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "Hardly. I am just amused by your behavior." Even a blind person would see my bluff and feign confidence.

“Oh? Really?” He stood up a bit, leaning closer to my face, almost whispering in my mouth. His proximity was intoxicating, his breath hot against my lips. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, the desire coursing through my veins like a current. He slowly brushed his lips against mine and I felt a touch of his tongue on my bottom lip. 

It felt like drugs. It felt better than drugs. His tongue teasingly tracing along my bottom lip sent a shiver down my spine, making my legs tremble beneath me. It was overwhelming. I have never felt like this before. In that very second I could do anything for this man.

Suddenly he stopped and looked me right into my eyes, smirking satisfiedly almost like he read a thought that just got in my mind.

He stood up, turning away from me and I bit my tongue not to moan in disappointment. 

“We’re done for today, Ms. Y/S. It was a pleasure talking to you,” He said, opening the door for me. Smirk remained on his face, but Langdon seemed very calm. As if he didn’t just kneel and almost kiss me two minutes ago. 

I needed a few seconds to understand what had happened, so I blinked and then quickly stood up walking toward the door.

“Hope you have a good night, Ms. Y/S,” he said watching me and I can swear, as he was saying that, his hand slid to cover his groin and he definitely wanted me to notice that. 

“Good night, Mr. Langdon,” I mumbled and left the room. 

What the fuck has just happened?

part two

[winterf4iryy]

ׁ ི۪۪۪ 🦢 ྀ۪۪۪ ˑ ⊹ ۫ ꒱ i hope you enjoy your time here, however long it may be! i’m always open to making new friends, feel free to reach out ♡︎

𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎’𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓈… baby pink, nature, animals, wes anderson films, chocolate, listening to music, daydreaming, skincare, pretty things, collecting trinkets, love letters, snow, fluffy blankets, naps, fairytales, all things whimsical and magical.

𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎’𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓂𝓈… the inheritance games, the folk of the air, percy jackson, the school for good and evil, the mysterious benedict society, once upon a broken heart, dead poets, marauders, stranger things, k-pop (seventeen ult), watcher, marvel, broski nation.

𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎’𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈… gallant, spells for lost things, peter pan, the wind in the willows, the stolen heir, half a soul, the night circus, the starless sea, stardust, sorcery of thorns, once upon a broken heart.

𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎’𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓈… leon bridges, sabrina carpenter, beyoncé, victoria monét, seventeen, newjeans, tomorrow x together, dreamcatcher, ariana grande, billie marten, inhaler, beastie boys, sam cooke, michael bublé, billie holiday.

𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎’𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝓈 & 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓂𝓈… superstore, abbott elementary, the good place, midnight mass, the alienist, ms marvel, moon knight, derry girls, only murders in the building, anne with an e. spiderman: homecoming, fantastic mr fox, sabrina, willow, 10 things i hate about you, dirty dancing: havana nights, flipped, 9 to 5, drop dead gorgeous, wakanda forever, funny face, newsies, hello, dolly!, into and across the spider-verse, a league of their own ♡︎

🏹 🕯️

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 … ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

♡ sunflower by post malone feat. swae lee ♡ ditto by newjeans ♡ april shower by seventeen ♡ toulouse by billie marten ♡ forgive you by leon bridges ♡ comment on faisait ? by hocus pocus ♡ bon voyage by dreamcatcher ♡ moonglow by billie holiday

[head-post]

Brussels will not arrest Netanyahu, Belgian PM Bart de Wever says

Rejecting the policies of the previous Belgian government, Prime Minister Bart de Wever on Thursday said his country would ignore an arrest warrant for his Israeli counterpart Benjamin Netanyahu.

“To be completely honest, I don’t think we would either,” de Wever told a reporter for broadcaster VRT , who asked him about Hungary’s decision to ignore the warrant. The International Criminal Court (ICC) issued it in November to Netanyahu and his then defence minister Yoav Gallant on suspicion of war crimes, charges Israel denies.

“There is such a thing as realpolitik, I don’t think any European country would arrest Netanyahu if he were on their territory. France wouldn’t do it, and I don’t think we would, either,” he said.

France, Hungary and Poland are among the countries that have said they would not act on the arrest warrant. Germany and Italy have criticised the warrant without explicitly saying they will ignore it. The Netherlands and Austria are among the countries that have criticised the warrant but have said they will act on it. Michael Freilich, a lawmaker from De Wever’s party, told JNS:

“The prime minister’s words represent a major shift in policy. Slowly, we are seeing positive changes, also regarding the fight against antisemitism and the protection of Jewish institutions.”

De Wever’s centre-right government, led by his National Flemish Alliance party, was sworn in on February 3. It replaced a left-wing coalition whose largest partner was the Socialist Party, which had a policy hostile to Israel.

Under the previous government, Belgium joined South Africa’s lawsuit in the International Court of Justice, a UN tribunal unrelated to the ICC, against Israel for alleged genocide in Gaza.

Netanyahu’s arrest campaign

The previous Belgian government pledged to support the ICC arrest warrant, and at least one of its leading ministers has called on other countries to do the same.

The previous government’s deputy prime minister, Petra de Sutter, wrote on X in November:

“Europe must comply. Impose economic sanctions, suspend the Association Agreement with Israel and uphold these arrest warrants.”

Former Prime Minister Alexandre de Croo did not seem to be left out either. On November 28, he said that Belgium would “take responsibility” before the ICC because “there can be no double standards.”

Belgium’s reversal came amid several high-profile failures in the international campaign against Israel. Netanyahu is currently in Hungary, which is among 125 countries that have recognised the jurisdiction and powers of the ICC. Prime Minister Viktor Orbán has said Hungary will ignore the warrant. On Thursday, his government announced it would withdraw its recognition of the ICC.

De Wever addressed the issue in an interview with VRT. “To immediately withdraw from the international legal order—that connection, I do not see happening,” he said.

Nicaragua, meanwhile, has withdrawn its participation in the International Court of Justice case against Israel, which it joined in February 2024.

Read more HERE

[toastedcinnamonflakes]

Books I read in 2024

as the year closes, I'm sitting around the kitchen table with my parents, all of us doing various things of their own. I just finished reading the last book of the year (a history of the soviet union), and now I can finally share this list with you all. If you wanna talk about any of these books, feel free to message or tag onto this post or whatever :D

I'm also very curious what you all read in 2024, if anything stood out...

I wish you all a good 2025! Einen guten Rutsch, ihr Lieben <3

Books I read in 2024

Die Tribute von Panem X: Das Lied von Vogel und Schlange, Suzanne Collins

Vom anderen Ufer, Gerd Brantenberg

Stjerneskudd, Gudmund Vindland

The hunger games, Suzanne Collins

Det velsignede barn, Astrid Saalback

The prince and the pretender, Vincent Lardo

Der Schwalbenturm, Andrzej Sapkowski

Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins

Vaffelhjarte, Maria Parr

Mockinjay, Suzanne Collins

Valerie und die Woche der Wunder, Vitezslav Nezval

Im Wasser sind wir schwerelos, Tomasz Jedrowski

Medea, Euripides

Dödsdansen (Teil 1), August Strindberg

The old man and the sea, Ernest Hemmingway

Kurzgeschichten, Anton Tschechow

Queer Ukraine, DVIJKA collective

Die Dame vom See, Andrzej Sapkowski

Fräulein Nettes kurzer Sommer, Karen Duve

Die drei ??? und der Puppenmacher

Love, Mystery and Misery. Feeling in Gothic Fiction, Coral Ann Howells

Das Vorkommnis, Julia Schock

The last unicorn, Peter S. Beagle

Die Blechtrommel, Günter Grass

Carmilla die Vampirin, Sheridan Le Fanu

Der Junge, den es nicht gab, Sjon

Erzählungen, Valentin Rasputin

Heroes, Stephen Fry

Weiße Nächte, Fyodor Dostojewski

Der Palast im Himmel, Dianna Wynne Jones

Looking for Alaska, John Green

Russische Geschichte, Andreas Kappeler

Das Buch Ijob

A single man, Christopher Isherwood

König Ödipus, Sophokles

Rückkehr nach Reims, Didier Eribon

Dette blir mellom oss, Alexander K. Krag

Kabale und Liebe, Friedrich Schiller

Sauhund, Lion Christ

Die Lady Mcbeth aus dem Landkreis Mzensk, Nikolaj Leskow

Iphigenie auf Tauris, JoWo Gothe

Die arme Lisa, Nikolaj Karamsin

Lulu, Frank Wedekind

Die Elixiere des Teufels, E.T.A. Hoffmann

Time is a mother, Ocean Vuong

Mario und der Zauberer, Thomas Mann

Strange Tale of Panorama Island, Edogawa Ranpo

Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

Richard III, William Shakespeare

Michael Kohlhaas, Heinrich von Kleist

Apologie des Sokrates, Platon

Das Mädchen, das in den Wellen verschwand, Axie Oh

Ein Tag im Leben des Ivan Dennisowitsch, Alexander Solchenizyn

Die göttliche Komödie, Dante Aligheri

Böse Geister, Fyodor Dostojewskij

Der Spieler, Fyodor Dostojewskij

Frauen und Macht, Mary Beard

Willkommen in Amerika, Linda Boström Knausgard

Der Schöne im Mohn, Dagmar Fohl

Kniven i ilden, Ingeborg Arvola

Tine, Hermann Bang

The flowers of Buffoonery, Osamu Dazai

My dark Vanessa, Kate Elizabeth Russel

Unwiederbringlich, Theodor Fontane

Mephisto, Klaus Mann

Konsten att inte hitte sig själv pa Bali, Zandra Lundberg

Gallant, V.E. Schwab

Gravböygnen vakner, Sigbjörn Mostue

And then there were none, Agatha Christie

48 clues into the disappearance of my sister, Joyce Carol Oates

Marmorhaut, Slavenka Draculic

Flowers in the attic, V.C. Andrews

Bored Gay Werewolf, Tony Santorella

Litt redd bare, Alexander Kielland Krag

Ein Held unserer Zeit, Michail Lermontow

Picnic at Hanging Rock, Joan Lindsay

En herrgardssägen, Selma Lagerlöf

Das Tal der Blumen, Niviaq Kornerliussen

The bloody chamber, Angela Carter

Isdraken, Michael Engström

Die Lüge, Mikita Franko

Plain Bad Heroines, emily m. Danforth

Die Erzählungen, Franz Kafka

The Penelopiad, Margaret Atwood

Geschichte der Sowjetunion, Susanne Schattenberg

[summarychannel]

First message | Bombing the Egyptian border strip with the Gaza Strip, and the Egyptian President warns and praises the ability of the Egyptian army

Updates on the Al-Aqsa Flood operation presented in this episode of Samri Channel. Starting with the Israeli occupation army, which returned for the fourth time to bombing the Rafah crossing in the southern Gaza Strip. A network of correspondents at the crossing indicated that the area separating the Egyptian and Palestinian sides of the crossing was subjected to a new Israeli air strike, which resulted in the departure of a number of dual nationals gathered in front of the crossing, after they had received previous instructions from their embassies to move near the Rafah crossing, in preparation for leaving the Gaza Strip. . The sounds of Israeli warplanes were also heard in the southern Gaza Strip, coinciding with the bombing of the vicinity of the Rafah crossing. Since October 7, this area has been subjected to three raids. On Monday, hundreds of Palestinians holding foreign passports gathered in the southern Gaza Strip, hoping to open the Rafah border crossing. The crossing was closed a few days ago after it was exposed to an Israeli bombing, in the midst of a violent bombardment carried out by Israel on the Gaza Strip since October 7, the date Hamas began an unprecedented attack on Israel. On Monday, the two sides denied any ceasefire talks or opening the crossing with Egypt.

On the other hand, the New York Times said, citing sources it described as “informed”: “Tel Aviv” asked the United States for emergency aid worth $10 billion, to help it in the war it is waging against Azza. The Hebrew website Ynet reported from the newspaper that the White House is drafting a bill to provide aid to Israel, and other aid that the Biden administration also seeks to provide to Ukraine. The newspaper added that this matter may make it difficult to approve the package in the House of Representatives, where Republicans have the majority and express Some expressed their opposition to aid Kiev. According to the newspaper, the proposal would also include allocating funds to fortify the southern border between the United States and Mexico - which is the main demand expressed by Republicans. Last Tuesday, Tel Aviv launched the “Diaspora Bonds” campaign to raise funds amid its war with the resistance factions in the Gaza Strip, according to posts on social media sites linked to Israeli bonds, which are the borrowing tool for diaspora bonds.

 It was stated on the (Israel Bonds) website that it has bonds worth $5.4 billion due on December 31, which represents about 12% of the external government debt of the occupying state. A 10-year bilateral military aid memorandum between Tel Aviv and Washington, which was signed in 2016, requires the United States to provide the occupying state with $3.3 billion in foreign military financing, in addition to spending $500 million annually on joint missile defense programs from Fiscal year 2019 to fiscal year 2028. The memorandum of understanding indicates the possibility of providing supplementary assistance in emergency situations such as wars.

Finally, the Commander of the US Army's Central Command, Michael Corolla, arrived today in Tel Aviv, to meet with the leadership of the Israeli Army. The Israeli army wrote on the “X” platform: “Michael Corolla, Commander of the US Army’s Central Command, will meet with army leaders and Defense Minister Gallant during his visit, which began to Israel.” The statement added: "The visit during the war confirms the strength of the connection and the common destiny of countries in general, and of the Israeli army with the United States army in particular."

#Egypt #Palestine #latest news