#raven queen did nothing wrong

[cometblaster2070]

alright here we go, we're going to talk about raven for a bit, because there are some people saying strange, strange things about HER of all people.

(slight disclaimer: this is not an apple white hate post; she is also the loml and both her and raven are wonderful, nuanced characters)

i've seen a couple of people (before you ask, yes, it is those apple white defenders) talk about how utterly selfish raven was being. how she was completely uncooperative and unwilling towards apple, how rude she was, what a terrible friend and a terrible person she was in general she was to everyone (but especially apple gasp), and most of all, raven is completely and utterly selfish for refusing to see apple's viewpoint and for refusing to at least hear apple out.

LIKE IM SORRY?? DID WE WATCH THE SAME SHOW?? DID WE SEE THE SAME CHARACTERS??

AH YES, MY MISTAKE, RAVEN WAS COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY SELFISH FOR NOT WANTING TO FOLLOW IN HER VILLANOUS MOTHER'S FOOTSTEPS AND HARM THE PEOPLE SHE LOVES AND CARES ABOUT.

she's also definitely wrong and completely selfish to even consider wanting to have a happy, peaceful life for herself, instead of poisoning her best friend and ending up hated, alone and chained up like a monster.

my bad guys; i misunderstood the show, clearly it was raven who was the selfish one for not acquiescing to apple's request of poisoning her and ending up miserable for the rest of her life.

jokes aside, like, i don't even know how to explain how wrong this is. not only is it completely outlandish to make the argument that raven is wrong and selfish for wanting to NOT end up in magic jail, but it's so strange to demonize her in this particular way??

LIKE WOW WONDER WHY SHE WOULDN'T WANT THIS DESTINY.

raven's defining character trait throughout the show and the books and any other form of media she's associated with is her kindness, her gentleness, her willingness to do the right thing and how she sincerely just wants to help people, and completely loathes the fact that people see her as nothing more than evil and they see her as someone dangerous.

raven is shown to be someone who would literally rather die on the spot than hurt someone or willingly cause them pain, she has also continuously shown guilt over her mother's previous actions (particularly Wonderland); and another thing we're shown time and time again, is that although she disagrees with apple, she loves her so, so much and would do ANYTHING for her.

LET'S ALSO TALK ABOUT HOW RAVEN WAS CONSTANTLY EMOTIONALLY MANIPULATED THROUGH EAH BY LITERALLY EVERYONE??? LIKE THIS GIRL COULD NOT CATCH A BREAK, IF MADDIE WASN'T THERE SHE WOULD'VE SNAPPED SO FAST IM NOT EVEN KIDDING.

side tangent on this: woman spent her wishing well coin on asking if her friends would be fine if she didn't sign, PLEASE I LOVE HER.

like we had GRIMM of all people on her ass constantly threatening her with going 'poof' and ruining everyone's lives, and oh yes, he took the one thing she had from her mother and gave her that horrific wishing well vision, and then, she had ALLLL the royals telling her how horrible she was for not signing and dooming them all, and then we still have apple, who was constantly reminding her to sign and asking why she didn't and how she should've and whatever whatever; you get the point but STILL.

like i sincerely have trouble understanding why we're demonizing raven rn over wanting to choose her own happiness for once, over a lifetime of literal TORMENT AND SUFFERING.

and consistently throughout the show, we are also shown how apple is in the wrong; apple is a very nuanced character yes, and there's a lot of valid reasons that explain why she has the worldview that she does, and does the things that she does, but it doesn't take away the fact that apple is wrong, and throughout eah, we are shown apple realizing and then later accepting that she's wrong and raven's views and actions are valid and right.

i mean, we even get other characters who were diehard royals acknowledging raven's terrible situation and sympathizing with her; case in point, briar in thronecoming.

lastly, on the point of her not listening to apple or hearing her out, girl, like i love apple sm; but her entire point throughout the earlier seasons was 'oh raven why won't you poison me so you can go to prison and i can get my happily ever after like we're supposed to?'; like apple is also shown to be entirely unreasonable in the earlier seasons to raven being like 'haha hey, this is kind of fucked up, don't you think??' and again, apple has valid reasons for this, but it doesn't take away the fact that she was wrong and that there is really no reason for raven to be demonized over THIS of all things???

tl;dr: raven queen is a wonderful character; apple white would beat your ass if you're talking shit about her (like not in being like "oh i don't like this character" way, in this particular clown way), and demonizing raven for being 'selfish' is WILDDD.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats (Pt. 3)

Aegon ii x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2

“With free reign of King’s Landing, Aemond will focus his attention on the occupation of bast-” Aegon’s face flushes bright red. “Harrenhal.” He corrects himself, “and the extermination of house Strong.”

“What did you call it?” Daemon arches a brow.

“Harrenhal,” Aegon repeats.

“Before that,” Daemon prods.

Aegon sighs, looking to his wife.

“Bastardhal.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“My brother’s term of endearment.” He explains, “a slip of the tongue.”

“Mmm,” Daemon hums. “Perhaps allegiance to your brother runs deeper than you let on.”

“I have left my siblings and abandoned my post to be here. I remain loyal to Rhaenyra’s claim and her line of succession. What else would you have me do?” Aegon scoffs.

“There are a number of things.”

“If you refuse to believe that Aegon is loyal to our queen, believe that he is loyal to me and I am loyal to my mother.” Y/N takes a protective step in front of her husband.

Daemon’s jaw ticks, frustrated and teetering near sanity’s edge. “You then, are responsible for his indiscretions.”

“I take full responsibility.” Y/N agrees, “he is here for me.”

“Perhaps he might further demonstrate his loyalty.”

“And how, do you suggest, I do that?” Aegon wonders.

“Deliver us your brother’s head on a platter.” Daemon sneers.

“Mother!”

“Am I wrong, Rhaenyra?” Daemon scoffs.

“That is enough!” The Queen slams her fist against the table. “Thank you, Aegon for the information you provided. We will coordinate with our army and send reinforcements to Harrenhal. We will send word to Cregan Stark-”

“By raven?”

“However I see fit, Daemon. Stay your hand.” Rhaenyra snaps. “You are all excused.”

Aegon is out the door just as swiftly.

Y/N flinches as it slams behind him.

Jacaerys remains stoic in the corner, saying nothing for a long while as his mother and step father begin bickering. “Sister,” he nods toward the hallway.

Y/N returns the gesture, following him out past the royal guards. “The nerve of him.” She is fuming as they begin strolling the grounds.

“That is Daemon.” Jacaerys breathes. “Pay him no mind.”

“It’s not as if I don’t want Aemond’s head. Luce is our brother, for the gods’ sake.”

Jace swallows, mouth set in a firm line. “He was our brother.”

Was…is he not anymore?

“In these dealings with Aemond, you must remember that killing him will not bring Luce back.”

“It would be even.”

“A son for a son was also even.” Her brother reminds her. “Your grievance with it hath brought you here.”

“I should have allowed the murder of a child?”

“I did not say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“What is even is not always right, I expect you know that by now.”

“Indeed.”

“Ravens will take too long.” Jacaerys laments, “but mother will not let us deliver messages anymore. It is a shame that our safety comes at the expense of other’s.”

Y/N draws in a steadying breath. “Pity.” She turns away, in the direction of her chambers. Aegon is waiting for her there, sipping from a pitcher of wine. “Did they not give you a cup, my darling?”

“Hmm,” Aegon hums into the container, “of course.” He lowers the pitcher from his mouth, “but this is faster.”

The princess puts a hand to her head.

“I am not a dog that’s been kicked, do not look at me that way. As if I am weak.”

“I love you and you are hurting.” Y/N sighs, “I do not know how else to look at you.”

Aegon mulls this over for a moment. “I did not mean to call it bastardhal.”

“I know that.”

“You are not a bastard.” He presses on, “I am sorry for ever calling you one.”

“You are forgiven.” It is nothing more than a word. It cannot harm her anymore.

“If no house would claim you, then I would.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile, “thank you, Aegon.”

“You think I jest? Or does it simply mean nothing coming from me?”

“It means everything coming from you,” Y/N takes a step toward him. “Forgive me if I have made it seem-”

“No,” Aegon shakes his head, “forgive me. I am lost in this. I mustn’t take my frustration out on you.”

Y/N cups his face in her hands. “If you are loved by no one, know you are loved by me.“

“Without you I have nothing.” He reaches a shaky hand out, stroking her hair, reverently. “I am nothing.”

She draws back, searching his eyes. “That is not true.”

“If you ask me to slay my brother, I will do it.” Aegon breathes.

Y/N presses her lips together. She had not asked, Daemon did. But Aegon does not bend to Daemon’s will, only hers.

“Please do not ask.” He murmurs with wide, sad eyes.

Y/N cannot stand to see him cry. It tears at the depths of her soul. She wraps her arms around him, “I will not ask.”

Aegon clings to her. “I would do it.”

“I know, my love.” Y/N presses kisses to the side of his face. She knows his sadness, the burden of being least loved by everyone else. Some part of him will always seek to win her approval, her affection… her love.

He is pawing at her then, at the laces of her dress. He does not know how to comfort her, nor himself. He knows how to bring pleasure so blinding it nearly drowns out the pain.

Y/N helps him remove his clothes, wrapping him up in her arms. “I love you.”

“As I love you.” He’s stumbling backwards then, hovering over her on the bed. Easing his cock into her.

She sighs, losing herself in the gentle rocking of his hips. There is no haste to reach their peak, taking what little comfort they can from each other.

It is not until his thumbs skate over her cheeks that Y/N realizes she is crying. Even here, on their marriage bed, there is no end to suffering. Only an end to loneliness.

————————————————————————

Y/N waits until Aegon is sleeping soundly to clamber from the warmth of his arms and dawn her riding gear. Dragonstone is quiet as she makes her way down to the dragon pit. Stormborn is nestled in beside Sunfyre, her light blue scales complement the golden hue of her companion.

“Where are you off to at this hour, your grace?” One of the keepers asks.

“I’m going to take Stormborn out for a bit of fresh air. The moon is beautiful this evening, don’t you agree?” Y/N smiles, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear.

“Indeed, Princess.” He eyes the sword, sheathed at her back.

“This is only a precaution,” Y/N lies, “we can never be too careful in these times.”

He nods, “I will saddle her.”

“Thank you, Marcelo.” Y/N nods, tugging on her riding gloves as she waits. Tapping at her wedding band, beneath the cool fabric.

“She is ready, your grace.”

“Thank you, again.” She says, climbing up onto Stormborn’s saddle.

“It is my great honor.” The man smiles, watching in wonder as the princess sets off across the sea.

Only a few torches are lit at the entrance of Harrenhal.

Y/N lands near the stone walkway, striding up to the tall hooded figure and ripping back his cloak.

Aemond turns to his assailant. “Y/N?”

“Take out your sword.” She demands.

“Lucerys death was a tragic mistake, a lapse in judgment I do not care to repeat.”

“I will not kill you with your back to me, I am no coward. You will face me, take out your sword.”

“For the sake of the gods, Y/N,” Aemond growls. “Do you aim so desperately to break my brother’s heart?”

“I will not allow the slaughter of innocent people. This ends here.”

“A brother for a brother it will be then, not a son for a son.” Aemond reluctantly withdraws his weapon.

Y/N charges him, in a blind rage, their blades meet, clanking together.

“You make a better sparring partner than most.” He draws his sword away, narrowly dodging her next attack.

“This is not a children’s game, I want your head!”

Aemond purrs, “you must earn it then.”

She sees red, swinging at him again, until his blade slices across her side and she has cut deep into the flesh of his leg. Bringing the Prince to his knees, with her sword at his neck.

“Do it,” Aemond insists, “you will not get another chance.” He stares up at her blade, dripping with his blood. The fear etched into her eyes, tresses of dark hair clinging to her sweat damp skin.

In this light, each of them resemble their brother.

The end Y/N desires is so near she can taste it, rising like bile in her throat. She chokes on it. “No.” She drops her blade from his neck, covering her aching side instead. “No.”

Aemond hangs his head. “I am sorry for that business with Luce. I lost my temper that day.”

“And I lost my…” No, she cannot say it, the pain is too great.

“Let me see your wound.” Aemond insists.

In her shock, Y/N obeys.

He tears across the bottom of his cloak, knotting the material firmly around her torso. Unbothered by her hissing protest. “This will hold until you reach Dragonstone. Go to Aegon, he will tend you.”

“You must leave this place.”

“You have my word.”

“And you must leave King’s Landing.”

Aemond smirks, “where would I go?”

“Anywhere.” Y/N suggests, “take Helaena and your children. We both know, she is too kind to bear the weight of the crown and our blood. Take her away so she might be happy…and free.”

“Do you not wish to be free from the weight of the crown?”

Y/N hesitates for a long moment. “I am the crown. I am my mother’s heir, her only daughter. I cannot abandon her, she has lost too much.”

Aemond swallows, “very well. Helaena will write you. You and my brother might visit, once we’re settled.”

“Perhaps we will.” She will never forgive him for Lucerys. They will never be as they were before Storm’s End. “You are my husband’s brother and husband of my dearest friend.”

“I am also your brother’s murderer. A title that trumps all, despite your best intentions. You are good, and kind, but human all the same.”

————————————————————————

“Aegon.”

“Hmm?” He reaches for his wife, blindly, stroking a hand over her dark waves. “What have you done to your hair, darling girl?” He grumbles, “it is awfully coarse.”

Jace bats Aegon’s hands away. “My sister is gone, you buffoon. Get your clothes on.”

“Jacaerys?” Aegon springs up, covering himself with the top sheet. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N is missing. The dragon handlers informed me that she left on Stormborn nearly two hours ago. Sunfyre has been yowling ever since.”

“Alert your mother,” Aegon demands, “raise the guard. Who on earth let the heir to the throne take a dragon from the pit in the middle of the night?”

“She is a princess, not a prisoner.” Jace reminds him, “I have a hunch as to where she went.”

“Harrenhal.” Aegon begins tugging on his clothes. The little brat bedded him and snuck off; again. “She will be a prisoner upon her return. I tire of these games.”

“You mustn’t be so harsh, my sister would go to the ends of the earth for you.”

“Yet she will not stay with me.” Aegon steps into his boots. “Surely she loves me so dearly that she flees at every opportunity.”

“Do not see it that way.” Jace sighs.

“I have no other way to see it.” Their chamber door swings open, revealing the woman in question.

“Aegon,” Y/N chokes. The blinding rush of battle is gone, leaving only her pain.

“Leave us,” Aegon waves a dismissive hand at his nephew.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys looks to his sister instead.

“I am well, brother.”

“You are bleeding.”

Y/N glances down at her wound, “perhaps you might go quietly to the maester and request milk of the poppy?”

“The maester should tend you,” he argues.

“Aegon will tend me, tis but a scrape.” Y/N insists.

Her brother squares his shoulders. “Very well, I will be back.”

“Thank you, brother.” Y/N forces a smile as Jace exits the door.

“What happened?” Aegon demands, squinting into the dim light as his wife stands before him, in her riding gear.

“I could not do it.” Y/N curses her own weakness. “I went to Aemond, I stopped him from taking Harrenhal and I let him go.”

Aegon shifts her garments aside to reveal the damage. A long bleeding gash, beneath her ribs. “Aemond did this to you?” He sits her down on the foot stool, pacing in the small space before it.

“We dueled,” Y/N admits. “I made my mark on him as well.”

“Gods be good.” Aegon breathes.

“If Daemon catches word of this-”

“You are injured. That is where my interests lie, not in the folly of men.” Aegon seethes.

“He has already condoned the murder of children. Helaena’s children, of all people. What will he do if he hears of this?”

Aegon passes a hand over his face. “Surely we cannot leave the wound open like that, it will fester.”

“I know,” Y/N nods. “We must seal it up, with a heated blade. We can do it here, no one need know.” She reaches for his cup on the dresser, chugging the foul liquid down for some relief.

“You’re asking me to…” his eyes dart to his dagger, abandoned near his boots. “No.”

“Aegon.”

“I can’t.”

“It will be quick,” she reasons. “It will scar, but it is on my side, you will not look upon it often.”

“That is what you’re concerned with,” Aegon snaps, “of all things, you think I care about the scar it will leave? That I might frown upon an imperfection?”

“I-”

“You are maddening.”

“I am sorry. I do not wish to fight.”

“It is unavoidable from what I’ve heard. Marriage causes strife and disagreements.”

“Not ours,” Y/N insists, “you are the only person who understands me.”

“I do not understand why you would put yourself in danger.”

“For you.” Y/N tells him. “So you would not have to choose between your wife and your brother.”

“I would choose you, imbecile.”

Y/N bares her teeth. “I couldn’t let you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are mine, Aegon! I protect what is mine.”

In the way of the dragon. And that, Aegon understands very well.

“Here it is,” Jace returns with milk of the poppy.

“Thank you,” Aegon takes the gauntlet, bringing it to his wife’s lips. “Drink all of it.” He demands.

“Is there anything more I can do?” The other man asks.

“Rest the blade of my dagger over the fire until it glows red, then bring it to me.”

Jace nods.

“First, might you find something for her to bite down on. Leather works best.” Aegon purses his lips, “bring me my belt.” One of them is still etched with her teeth markings from Laenor’s birth. He’s delivered two of their children, surely he can do this.

Jacaerys rushes to the armchair beside the bed, tugging Aegon’s belt free and placing it on the foot stool beside his sister.

Y/N curls her fingers around the harsh material. Her vision has doubled, swaying from side to side.

“Are you going to faint?” Aegon catches her face between his hands.

“I feel fine,” Y/N slurs.

Aegon taps her chin. “That is good, my dearest love. I am going to remove your shirt.” He eases the material over her head, leaving only the bindings to cover her breasts.

“The blade is ready,” Jacaerys calls, from the fire place.

“Open.” Aegon tugs at her bottom lip with his thumb until her jaw goes slack, taking the leather belt from her clenched fist and placing the strap between her teeth. “Bite.”

Y/N clamps her teeth around it.

“Good girl.”

Jacaerys approaches, handling the instrument with care.

“You will hold me around the waist, you are not to let go until I say.” Aegon instructs, waiting until she is wrapped around him in an awkward sort of hug. “There you go.” He pats her head before taking the dagger from her brother. He offers no additional warning before lying the blade flat across the expanse of her wound. The cut is a clean one, without jagged edges.

Y/N lets out a muffled cry.

“Shh,” he hushes her, holding the heat to her skin for just a moment more before tossing the dagger away. Gingerly withdrawing the belt from her teeth. Resting his forehead against hers as whimpers settle to deep breathing. “Are you alright?”

Y/N nods.

“If you dare leave me again, Gods help me, I will shackle you to my side.”

Y/N strokes a hand over the side of his face. “Yes, Aegon.”

“I do not jest.”

Part 4

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago

[crossingthedreams]

growing pains — aemond targaryen x niece!reader

a/n: i know i’m late. shit happens. i’m having so much fun with this writing challenge that the lateness isn’t even bothering me anymore, lol. here’s day 08 — growing pains. of course i had to keep it in the family for this one (got it? hehehehehe)

a/n 2: hey! just posted day 10 - humiliation, which can be read as a prequel to this. check it out!  

summary: the daughter of the Realm’s Delight and the Rogue Prince was a valuable trade coin. amidst the chaos, and fortunately for her, there was one who saw her as a person and not a merchandise.

word count: 1.7k 

warnings: angst. targaryen incest (uncle/niece). mentions of death. slight ooc!aemond.

As a little kid in the Red Keep, you were under the constant eye of your mother’s step-mother. Your parents were always coming and going, and your siblings were all boys, who had the privileges that came with it. Your uncles and aunt were most often than not more than willing to ignore you, as well as your grandfather, the King. 

Your uncle Daeron was sent away when you were very young, which was very painful, as he was very kind. The only one out of your entire extended family who could be considered as such. 

From then on, with two grown sons and one far away, the Queen seemed to have more time with you. She always praised your silver hair, saying it differed you from your older brothers.

You weren’t even a woman, hadn’t even bled yet, when Aegon made his first pass on you. He was to be married to his younger sister, the Princess Helaena, and he knew very well your father, the Rogue Prince, would gut him if he ever laid a finger on you. Still, he made his remarks and made sure it was known throughout the Keep that he could have you any time he chose to. 

Your mother spent most of her time in Dragonstone with your older brothers, sisters and father, and you got news from a raven that she was with child once more. Joyous news, of course. 

However, even in happiness, you still felt a little left out. With the Blacks, you were the distant sister, kept away by the politics of it all. With the Greens, you were the first trueborn child of an heir who would never be, your legacy tarnished by the constant discussions of your brothers’ legitimacy. 

Your Uncle, the Prince Aemond, was a constant in your life. Ever since birth, the two of you were always in each others’ camp of vision. Sometimes a bully, sometimes an enemy, sometimes a friendly face in tedious functions, Aemond was always there. You had danced with each other a million times in events, not only in King’s Landing, but all throughout Westeros. 

As the second son of the King and the first daughter of the Princess, you both were disposable enough to be sent wherever the Crown needed an appearance, but the royal family wouldn’t be able to attend in its entirety. 

He wasn’t always a dragonrider, much like yourself. You only claimed a dragon as an adolescent, and he made sure you knew how proud he was.

The Cannibal, your dragon. Never before mounted, always thought to be a wild, untameable beast. 

You proved them all wrong, and when you did it, their faces showed nothing but horror, except for Aemond. 

Aemond was there, and Aemond was proud. 

It was the dead of night in King’s Landing, but you couldn’t sleep. It was when you heard the muffling and quiet running of servants from outside your door. 

You knew you were in danger before anyone walked in, even though the reason was unclear to you. 

You changed out of your nightgown and hid a small dagger in your clothing. Something was coming, of that you were sure, and you wouldn’t stick around to find out. Women, even royalty, only had two fates in a crisis: death or marriage. You refused both. 

You didn’t fear for your life as much as you did for the second option. No one was insane enough to put a child of the Princess to the sword. 

It was then and there you knew you had to go to your parents, in Dragonstone. 

Aegon was married already, but there was nothing stopping him from taking a second wife to strengthen his claim. Queen Alicent was arduous when she needed be, and you had no doubt she would whore you out in order to protect her own children. 

Your uncle Aemond loved you, of that you were sure. He would marry you gladly and he would make sure you were happy. When you were younger, the thought made your stomach fill with butterflies. You didn’t need the Iron Throne, you were more than content with your beautiful uncle, who rode the largest dragon and was educated enough to carry a conversation for hours. 

Even with his quarrel with your siblings, he saw you as a valuable member of the family. The main reason for that, you now understood, was because  your allegiance was questionable. You were loyal to your parents, but you were also living with the Queen Alicent and her children. 

In your mind, all the family bickering and fighting could have been solved if Jace and Helaena were to wed each other, but the Queen refused, of course. A marriage between you and Jacaerys would’ve been the second option, and it probably would’ve happened, if Luke’s claim to Driftmark wasn’t so controversial. There was no doubt as to your heritage, silver hair and lilac eyes. You were the spitting image of your parents, and a perfect Targaryen Princess. 

Such were the growing pains of life. The nostalgia and longing for better days, even though the days past were just as tumultuous. Above all, you missed the innocence you lost. 

You looked around your room, and it pained you to realize there was nothing to take but yourself. 

There was a secret passageway in the backs of your room that would either take you to the Small Council or outside. Leaving now seemed like the only sane option.

As you made your way very quietly down the spiral stairs, you couldn’t help but wonder what your life would've been like if your mother and her stepmother had simply gotten along. Maybe you would not be fleeting King’s Landing in the middle of the night like a criminal. 

It was then that you felt an arm involve you, paralyzing you, and a hand fly up to your mouth to keep you quiet. You began to react, but the soothing shh made you calm down. You recognized that voice, and you knew who you’d see even before you turned around. 

Aemond was hiding beneath a cloak, much like yourself. He looked around to make sure the two of you were alone, even though you were in a deserted, secret, ancient passeaway.

“Uncle…”, you wanted to be honest and simply ask him what was the matter, but you had to play your cards right. 

“Rȳbagon naejot issa (Listen to me)”. Your parents made sure you were fluent in Valyrian even before you fully understood the common tongue, and you were thankful for that. On the rare occasions you and Aemond spoke High Valyrian to one another, it was because something very funny or very important was happening. Now, you doubted it was the first.  

Aemond’s one eye had so many emotions in them you couldn’t focus on one alone, and his hand still held your arm tightly. You had no idea what he was about to tell you.

“Gūrogon aōha zaldrīzes se jikagon. Se dārys iksos morghe, Aegon jāhor sagon vēttan dārys sir se ao issi nykeā trade gelebo hae se tala hen Rhaenyra. ȳdra daor sōvegon se route naejot zaldrīzesdōron, jikagon naejot Dorne nykeā naejot se Arryn's. Aōha kepa jāhor ao adhirikydho. (Take your dragon and go. The King is dead, Aegon will be made King now and you are a valuable trade coin as the daughter of Rhaenyra. Don't fly the usual route to Dragonstone, go to Dorne or to the Arryn's. Your father will surely find you quickly)”, he spoke quietly, but intensely. 

“Why are you telling me this, Uncle?”, the frown was inevitable. Aemond had too many reasons to take you back, kicking and screaming, and present you to his mother. He was never kind, and this made no sense other than he was trying to lure you into a trap.

For the first time in your life, you looked at Aemond and saw exhaustion.

“Nyke bē ao daor naejot gūrogon aōha hen ao (I care about you enough not to take your choices from you)”, he said, not looking directly at your eyes. 

Years ago, you would have believed him in a heartbeat. He had just said the most perfect words a prince could ever say. Now, a woman grown, you didn’t fully believe it, even though your heart wanted to, desperately. 

You approached him, and your hand met his, that was still on your arm. The other cupped his cheek, making him look at you as you firmly said, “Gūrogon issa naejot se shores, mazverdagon issa aōha ābrazȳrys. Vīlībāzma hen iksos jāhor mōris istin ��lon dīnagon īlva ēlī āzma tala naejot Jaehaerys (Take me to the shores, make me your wife. Whatever war of succession is happening will end once we marry our first born daughter to Jaehaerys)”.

You didn’t know how much your words resembled your mother’s. You would never know just how much it affected Aemond, making his manhood twitch with the thought of spilling in you and seeing your body grow with a little Targaryen princeling. 

In another life, maybe, Aemond made you his. But now, as he well knew, the two of you had dance the dance to the choreography that was made for you. 

He could still steal one moment, as all this was already borrowed time. Just one more.

So, he pulled you by your waist, closer to him, and pressed his lips to yours. First, your eyes widened, and then closed. You melted in his arms, and you kissed him back. The good feeling lasted only for a second before he was pushing you away.  

“Jikagon se ȳdra daor jurnegon arlī (Go quietly and don't look back)”. 

He was already turning back and motioning for you to go, leaving behind not only him, but the life you made for yourself, quietly. It broke your heart, but you knew where your loyalty lied: with your mother, the only heir to the now late King Viserys. Soon, you’d be back at the Red Keep, and hopefully Aemond would be forgiven. Hopefully, the two of you could pick up where you left off. 

Even with hope still in your heart, you knew the truth. You knew Aemond was just a memory now, even if you could still listen to his footsteps. You were older, wiser, and it ached, but such were the growing pains in life. 

[utilitycaster]

I like that the Raven Queen, who made the decision to take on an immense and (at least to her understanding at the time) unending responsibility is the one who calls Bells Hells out on their endless indecision.

It's been...interesting, shall we say, tracking this "party of NPCs," and tracking the fandom response throughout. The initial reception to "party of NPCs" was actually a rather cold one. This took place early in the campaign, prior to the Gnarlrock fight, and at the time a lot of people who shipped Imogen and Laudna were actually extremely resistant to the idea that Imogen was the "main character" of the campaign (as seen in the fallout from the gnarlrock fight, in which the bulk of attacks from the fandom were on Imogen). I've had complicated feelings on Taliesin's reads of this campaign specifically - he tends to have a very good understanding of his own characters that doesn't necessarily expand beyond them - but that phrase was indeed pretty valid. I think about the WBN interludes, in fact, in which the cast plays using NPC statblocks, and what a true party of NPCs for Bells Hells would look like, since it would be quite simple to draw up.

Allied NPCs in TTRPGs rarely act without guidance from the PCs. I've cast a critical eye in the past towards certain meta (particularly romantic in nature, regarding Yeza or Essek or Gilmore not making moves) for this reason, because while villains and antagonists move throughout the world generating obstacles, allies exist to be directed. They have their limits, of course; they have their own priorities and motivations and cannot be persuaded against their nature, but they can be guided at oblique angles from the GMs initial intent given enough work from the PCs. They're still people with thoughts and feelings and dreams, to an extent, but rarely do they make decisions that would conflict with those of the PCs.

That's the problem with a party of NPCs. NPCs take direction. They serve as support, but they're not in the driver's seat. And the Raven Queen has noticed.

The attitude within the fandom towards "Party of NPCs" became far more positive over time, and I wonder if it should have. People began to lean perhaps too heavily on how Bells Hells were people from nothing and nowhere, discarded. This is of course objectively false when comparing across parties (can we really say Imogen had a worse childhood than Vex? Chetney to Caleb? Even Ashton to Fjord?) but were it true, that in and of itself wouldn't be a problem. D&D backstories are often tear-stained and blood-soaked, full of unjust accusations, dead or neglectful parents, failure and regret. D&D is a game about coming from very little but a disproportionately good stat block for a commoner. It is unavoidably about amassing power. Starting off as a party of NPCs is fine. You should not still be a party of NPCs at the endgame.

I mentioned the gnarlrock, and I've mentioned an emphasis (or overemphasis) on this party's lack of agency and I think that remains the problem. Ludinus's villainy is rich, complex, and multifaceted, but a consistent element of it is his eternal false insistence that he - Martinet, founder and head of the Cerberus Assembly, Archmage - is just a little guy, chaff in the wind of the will of the gods, without free will of his own (he says, as he places his thread outside the reach of the Matron). That too is a theme in fandom discourse: free will and intent. Is Imogen justified in being angry at Laudna for breaking the rock if that wasn't Laudna's intent? (yes.) Is Orym on a quest of vengeance, with a death wish? (no, but if he were it wouldn't matter.) Was it wrong to pressure Fearne to take the shard instead of letting her make her own choices? (yes.)

Did any of you, perhaps in preschool or kindergarten, since that's about the age when this happens, have someone pull your hair and for adults to say "it's because they like you?" I find this is a good way to convey the importance, or unimportance, or intent. Because when your hair is being pulled, at least if that is the extent of the problem, it doesn't matter if it comes from the misguided affections of a four-year-old admirer who doesn't know how to use their words, or a six-year-old who just grabbed the most obvious material with which to test the limits of the safety scissors, or an eleven-year-old bully. Your hair is being pulled and you want it to stop. It doesn't matter if the person secretly likes you or if they want to hurt you; it matters that no matter the intent behind it, they are doing so. And if you reject the affections of your fellow preschool classmate because you think they might pull your hair, that's a fair consequence.

Bells Hells' indecision is some sort of cosmic hair pulling. They have reasons for faltering, and some of those reasons are understandable balking at an immense weight placed upon them and some of those reasons come from a deeply self-centered place in which their individual pain is used to blot out the suffering of countless others. But in the end, even that doesn't matter. Their histories don't matter. We don't need another series of introductions of where they come from and what they've done. We need people who can make decisions and who will act.

The Raven Queen seems to have been convinced they will. I'm not sure. But I think we are in agreement that inaction is, regardless of the intent behind it, no different than active harm. It would be irresponsible to continue to be a party of NPCs; if they truly are lost and forgotten fuck-ups, they have a responsibility (as the god of death once did) to abdicate and find a replacement.

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

stand and fight

── jacaerys velaryon x fem!targaryen reader

surprise i can’t contain myself so this is a series shdbxndjfvnsj

little a/n before we begin ── CHANGING AGES!! jace is only 13 when aegon is crowned king but in this, you and he are both 18. as with my aegon piece, i know everyone’s long names and titles but for the sake of not typing it out each time i use first names (i.e. criston instead of ser criston cole). reader is alicent and viserys’ child, but is living with rhaenyra and her family because she was always of the opinion that her father wanted rhaenyra to be queen. even once aegon was crowned, she refused to refer to him as king. as a result this caused a huge feud with reader against alicent, aegon, and aemond and she was all but banished from her home. about 2 weeks after aegon is crowned, reader and dragon (stormfyre) ran away and have been with rhaenyra and fam ever since. of everyone on team black, you’re closest with jace. everyone suspects something romantic between you both, but nothing has happened as of the start of this. takes place before, and during season 2 episode 4. you’ve been warned

wc: 1.6k (future chapters will be much longer and feature a lot more of jace, promise!)

PART ONE

Your relationship with Jacaerys (not that you could really call it a relationship), wasn’t always how it is now. He wasn’t the one you sought out when you wanted quiet but not alone time, and you weren’t the first person he searched for when he entered the room. Certainly not when you first arrived and Rhaenyra announced that you’d be staying with them.

In fact, in the beginning, you were sure he hated you.

Being on opposing sides of this ‘war’, part of the reason why he took such a strong disliking to you was because he thought he had to. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. You’d long since grown tired of hating people simply because you were told to.

On the evening you and Stormfyre ran away, the entire time you were flying was spent worrying and just praying to the Gods that you wouldn’t be turned away, or killed.

Rhaenyra was there to greet you when Stormfyre finally landed, and once you told her how bad things had gotten at home and that you didn’t know where else to go, she immediately offered you a room. Though you were Alicent’s daughter, you were still her half sister and had always been kind to her and her children. She knew you wanted no part in this feud, that you and Helaena were innocent in all of it.

After you wrote a note and Rhaenyra sent a raven to deliver it to Alicent, she informed you that they were just about to sit down and have dinner and she’d love for you to join them.

The first thing you noticed as you took your seat across from Lucerys, was how Jacaerys was glaring at you.

No one had taken more than a few bites before he put his fork down and loudly stood up.

“Why is she here?” He pointed at you, not even bothering to hide his anger.

“Jacaerys sit down,” Rhaenyra shook her head. “You know as well as I do that she is innocent in all of this. I have invited her—”

“To stay with us? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, she’s one of them! How do you know—”

Hearing that last part, Rhaenyra pushed her chair back and stood up. “Do not speak to me in that way, I will not tolerate it. I have invited her to stay for as long as she’d like and that is final. Now sit down.”

“Yes Your Grace.” The sarcasm was loud and clear, but Rhaenyra opted to ignore it since he did in fact sit down again.

You had your worries, but this confirmed it. You couldn’t stay. On the way over you told yourself that if anyone showed hesitation or anger at you being there, you’d leave as soon as you felt safe to do so. To live in a place where you were in fear of saying the wrong thing or suddenly being asked to leave, was no different than if you’d remained at home.

“Your Grace, I am a bit tired. Thank you for the lovely meal but if it’s alright I’d like to retire for the evening.”

Jacaerys once again didn’t even attempt to hide his anger. He rolled his eyes as he continued to eat.

“Of course, please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything you need.” She gave you a small smile, and as soon as you turned the corner you could hear her beginning to bicker with her eldest son.

After you’d been in your room about an hour, there was a series of soft knocks at your door. If you’d been doing anything other than laying in bed, you probably wouldn’t have heard.

When you opened the door and were greeted by Lucerys, to say you were surprised was an understatement.

“My Prince, I —”

He gave you that look, the I’m a kid please don’t use my title it’s weird look, and when you tried again and called him by his first name, he smiled. His hands had previously been behind his back and when he brought them forward, in each was a small plate with what appeared to be some sort of cake.

“Jace was rude and I know that’s why you didn’t finish dinner,” he said simply.

You opened your mouth to say that wasn’t true, but when he gave you that look again you couldn’t help but laugh.

“For being so young, you’re quite perceptive.”

He nodded as he sat down and handed you a plate. “Mom says I’m good at reading people. I forgot forks so we’ll have to use our hands.”

“You wish to stay and eat with me?”

Again, the young boy nodded. “It’s not fun to eat alone.”

The first few minutes, the 2 of you simply enjoyed the desserts in silence. You were relieved to find that it was a comfortable silence. When you were both finished, Lucerys, who insisted you call him Luke, took the plates and said he’d be right back. When he returned only a moment later, his first question surprised you.

“Why did you run away?”

“I — it’s complicated. Since Aegon was crowned king, there have been a lot of… fights.”

“You don’t think he should be king?”

You wondered how much to tell him, seeing as he was only 11. “No,” you decided to just tell the truth. “I think your mom should be.”

“She’s your… half sister, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, she’s my half sister. The same way that Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond are her other half siblings.”

“Do you not like them?”

“My other siblings?”

He nodded.

“I’m using this word too much, but it’s complicated. My relationship with each of them is different. Or was, before things went bad. Aegon and I used to be inseparable when we were really little. Everyone used to joke that we were twins. Though I’m a year older than Aemond, I always looked up to him. He’s the one who taught me how to use a sword, and I will always be grateful for that. Helaena and I are still close, she understands why I left. In fact that reminds me I need to ask your mom if I may send a raven to her tomorrow.”

“Even if you don’t think he should be king, why did you leave? Did they hurt you?”

“No, not yet anyway,” you gave a sad smile. “But it wasn’t just them that made me fearful. Other people haven’t been so kind. It’s why I’m so grateful that I’m allowed to be here, even if it’s only temporary.”

Luke looked surprised, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that you’d leave. “But you’ll stay with us for a while right? I’ll talk to Jace, I swear it.”

You quickly wiped a tear and smiled at the young boy in front of you. “That means a lot to me, truly. But please don’t talk to your brother on my behalf. He has made it clear I’m unwelcome and I fear that anything you say will make him angry with you as well.”

“If you don’t stay, will you have to return home?”

That was something you hadn’t even thought about. Initially while flying you feared being rejected. But even if that did happen, what would your plan have been?

“Possibly. I do not know where else I would go.”

“Jacer— there you are, you’ve had us searching everywhere,” Rhaenyra smiling as she saw how comfortable her son was around you. “Why don’t you let her get some sleep, hmm? You can see her in the morning.”

He groaned, but Luke did give you a hug and a “goodnight” before heading out of your room.

Rhaenyra turned to follow her son, then turned back around to face you again as she thought of something she wanted to say.

“I’d just like to apologize for my older son. I do not know what has gotten into him as of late but he had no right to speak to or about you that way. I will see to it that he—”

“Please, Your Grace—” she gives you that same look that Luke did, and you smile at how similar they look. “Rhaenyra, you and he have nothing to apologize for. I am technically one of them, and I’m intruding on your home.”

She is quick to shake her head. “You’re not intruding. I know what it can be like over there, and for your wellbeing I am glad that you felt safe enough to come here. We will think of next steps for tomorrow, although I really do hope you’ll stay a while. It seems Luke does too. I’ll let you get some rest now.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” you get off of the bed and embrace your sister for the first time in who knows how long. She rubs circles on your back and it brings tears to your eyes, your own mom wouldn’t ever embrace you like this.

Rhaenyra leaves a few minutes later, and you finally crawl into bed.

As you lay there and wait for sleep to come, you think about the events of today. And you can’t help it, eventually your mind drifts to the boy who sat across from you.

With the dirty looks he gave you, how he spoke about you as if you weren’t there, there’s no doubt in your mind that he hates you.

It’s hard to believe that if Aegon weren’t crowned King, and Rhaenyra held her place on the iron throne, that Jacaerys would’ve been the next heir.

Even harder to believe is that to ensure both families remained united, you and he would’ve already gotten married.

You finally start to feel sleepy, and just before you drift off, your final thoughts are of Jacerys. If you do end up staying, you wonder if things will always be like this.

TAGLIST ──

@simpingbigtime | @chillingyuh | @themoon-mine | @greenvita | @frostooo | @darylspersonalwhore | @athxnss | @thatbird-fromrio | @yohanseyebrowmole | @koobratzy | @ganertys | @kodzuvk | @lovelyteenagebeard | @m1lilachp | @lotus-888

[thegoldencontracts]

Hi

What do you think about Self aware!Housewardens and what are your Headcanons for them HSBSJJAJAJAHA idk I've been into ddlc recently.

FELLOW DDLC + TWST FAN SPOTTED I MUST RAMBLE

I'm going to make more specific fics with this later because who doesn't like self-aware AUs? Probably someone but that someone is not me

Ignorance is Bliss

The housewardens of Night Raven College come to a crippling realization about the truth of their world. They all handle it in different ways.

Riddle, who knows he's in a game, that everyone here is fake. What did he learn all these rules for? What was the point of his suffering? He's just a character to be watched by others for amusement's sake. Was the Queen of Hearts a mere character too? Did any of this have meaning? But then he sees you. You're real, and he's enraptured. What are the rules of your world, the real world where life isn't some story to be played? Though Riddle can't help but envy you, he really does wish to get to know you better.

Leona is hit by the revelation after his overblot. Everything he's gone through was all a part of some game. Just a way to keep players entertained. You're real. You'll never have to deal with the crippling realization that everything you say's a part of some script, that whole life's a game you'll never be able to leave. More than anything, Leona hates the fact that he knows your kindness towards him is all fake, but he still can't help but be captivated.

Azul is envious, just like Leona. He's gone through all of this just for entertainment? His overblot, his family, his world- none of it was real? And you're there, watching his suffering like it's some game for you to play, because that's really all it is. A game. He's a character in a game. But, seeing how real you are, even if your words are conveyed through the black sprite of a self-insert protagonist, how genuine your kindness is - it draws him in. He's meant to be a cold, rational individual, but perhaps he can be a bit softer with you. You won't mock him. You won't leave. And besides, if this really is some odd game, can't Azul get more of your gems with gap Moe?

Kalim is rather accepting of his circumstances. Sure, he's heartbroken to see the truth - that his whole life's a part of some gacha game meant to make some massive corporation called Disney more money, but can he really do anything about it? Besides, Kalim has always been someone who believes in making the best of the terrible hand he's been dealt. He's stayed kind in the face on constant poisoning attempts, and he's kept his heart in a world where there was no one he could trust. And in his attempts to make the best of his situation, he can't help but get closer to you. After all, you're a real person, and you don't gain anything from turning on him. You appreciate his kindness, and even if there's a fourth-wall separating the two of you, Kalim's grateful.

Vil is shaken by the revelation. This is all a game? You're just here to be entertained? But in spite of how worldview-shattering the realization that he's just a game character meant to Garner profit is, he can't help but he oddly comforted. Nothing's wrong with him. Neige 's performance was supposed to be worse than his, and the ordeal at VDC was just as unfair as he thought. Though Vil isn't exactly fine and dandy, he's not quite broken either. And, in the actual fanbase of this game he's in, people like him better than Neige? And you're one of those people? If it turns out you write fanfic or draw fanart of him, he'll be very appreciative.

Idia's shocked. His brother's death, his overblot, all the overblots, they were setups for him to be a character in some non-otome gacha game? It's weird. Idia's all too used to not being in control of his life, though. He just tries to cope in any way he can. He's definitely going to try and learn about his fandom, what type of ships and fanfic and fanart and the like are made about him. He's one of the most likely to try and ask you about the fandom. If you make fancontent for him, he's going to be especially interested. Be warned, though, he will nitpick your characterization of him so hard. At least your stats are better now, I guess?

Malleus is already an isolated individual, and now you're telling him what little connection to others he has is fake? In all honesty, he's definitely the most attached to you out of all the dorm heads. You're the only real friend he'll ever be able to have. The only real friend any of them will ever be able to have. He does find comfort in his massive fanbase, though. You're telling him all these people care for him, and because of the difference in the way time passes in game vs in reality, they won't die in a matter of what feels like seconds for him? As shaken as he is by everything, it really is a comfort.

[harunayuuka2060]

Crowley: D-Don't panic. This is just a simple meeting. There's nothing to worry about. *while sweating profusely*

MC: *smiling* Headmage, it seems you need that yourself.

Crowley: *takes a deep breath in*

Crowley: I'm nervous.

MC: *chuckles* You'll be fine, headmage.

Crowley: Please hold my hand.

MC: Yes, yes.

*both of them walked into the Dark Mirror*

*Kalim's father, the King of Sunset Savannah, and the Queen of Briar Valley*

Crowley: I hope we didn't keep you waiting.

Kalim's father: Do not worry. We all just got here.

King of Sunset Savannah: I was a bit late myself.

Maleficia: *already staring at MC*

MC: *smiles* Welcome to Night Raven College, Your Royal Highnesses.

MC: So what's the purpose of your immediate visit?

Crowley: P-Professor MC!

MC: *chuckles* Calm down, headmage. I'm sure there's no harm if I use a straightforward approach. Isn't that right, Your Royal Highnesses~?

*All of them nod in agreement*

King of Sunset Savannah: It would be easier for us.

MC: *turns to Crowley* See? *tilting their head*

Crowley: You are going to give me a heart attack.

Epel: Is Sensei not going to teach us today?

Ace: Unfortunately. They have to meet the leaders from three different countries.

Deuce: But I wonder what they need from Sensei.

Professor Trein: They are attempting to persuade them to work for them.

Epel, Ace, and Deuce: Professor Trein?

Professor Trein: Your teacher has asked me to supervise their classes.

Professor Trein: Though I'm not sure what I should be doing here.

Deuce: It's not anything difficult, sir. We're practicing how to make our breathing completely silent.

Ace: Yeah. And lol, do you remember how you completely failed on that?

Deuce: Because you were tickling me!

Epel: That's the point of the activity though...

Professor Trein: Interesting. I shall ask Lucius to test you on that.

Lucius: *showing his sharp claws to them*

Epel, Deuce, and Ace: *sweatdrop*

MC: I'm sorry, but I have to decline. *while still smiling*

Kalim's father and the King of Sunset Savannah: *sad frowns*

*Kalim's father offered them an arranged marriage to one of his relatives*

*The King of Sunset Savannah wanted them to be Kifaj's replacement once he retired.*

Crowley: Oh... How could reject such amazing offers...

MC: However, I've noticed Her Majesty hasn't said anything.

Maleficia: ...

Maleficia: I was silently waiting for my turn. And I'm not here to offer you anything.

Crowley: Really? *clears throat* Well?

Maleficia: I have a story to tell. Would you be interested in listening?

MC: Why? Who am I to refuse?

Sebek: AH! AHHHHHHHHH!!!! *came shouting into the classroom*

Ace: What's wrong with you, Sebek?!

Sebek: S-Sensei! M-MC-sensei!

Jack: What about MC-sensei?

Sebek: THEY'RE HAVING A COMBAT WITH HER MAJESTY! THE QUEEN OF BRIAR VALLEY!

The first-years: WHAT?!!

Malleus: *watching the battle between his grandmother and MC*

Lilia: What do you think?

Malleus: I'm not sure what caused this sudden battle between them.

Lilia: I see. Well, Maleficia did mention something weird to me.

Malleus: Hm? What is it?

Lilia: She's saying that MC-sensei was once her teacher?

Malleus: Huh?

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 31

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of Daemon, whose loved her all her life.

TW: a dead body, helaena having more lines in this chapter than in the entire House of the Dragons series.

masterlist for this series

Chapter Thirty-One: The Pity

Ser Criston opens the large wooden doors of her room, mere seconds after a member of the guards had told him that someone or something had jumped out of the window.

He sees Alyssa sprawled on the floor, covered in blood. It pained him to see her in this manner, yet his eyes trailed elsewhere - searching for Prince Aelor who should've been crying right now.

Yet he could only hear silence.

A deafening silence that threatened to split his ears in half.

"Alyssa," he opened his mouth, piercing through the thick atmosphere. She laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling - unmoving, covered in purple bruises. "Alyssa," he repeated her name again, kneeling beside her - wrapping his arms around her like a father would his daughter.

The Pity.

"Alyssa," he repeated her name for the third time - hoping for a response. "- where is Aelor?" he asked staring deep into her purple eyes, ones that reminded him of Rhaenyra. Her eyes which were once filled with hope and happiness, were now devoid of any emotion.

Blankly, she points at the open window. Ser Criston paled. The war of ravens and letters have indeed ended, and there wasn't a thing in this world that could remedy a mother's grief.

It was the dead of night when Ser Criston Cole made his descent to the courtyard. There were a dozen servants surrounding the Prince's body, but he made sure to shoo them away. He was with Helaena when he wrapped Prince Aelor with a green cloth.

"Did you dream of this?" he asked, holding the small corpse close to his chest. "It doesn't matter, it's already done." Helaena responded, taking the corpse off his hands and into her arms. Whatever warmth radiated off her body could not bring the dead back to life.

"I've said it countless times, our family wants something that has never belonged to us." Helaena gritted her teeth, opposite to Criston, she could look at the body - she could stare deep into Aelor's crushed face. "- Alyssa will never forgive Aemond, not even in the afterlife." she added with utmost certainty.

Helaena fights the tears that threaten to leak out her eyes. This could've been Jaehaerys or Jaehaera, and she couldn't have done anything to prevent this. "There is tragicness in my dreams, Ser." she opened her mouth, reaching for Aelor's little fingers as if he was still alive. "- because it means reliving the same thing twice." she breathed, finally allowing the tears to leak out of her eyes.

"How will we tell your mother? Aegon?" Criston asks, eyes avoiding the piece of cloth carried by Helaena. "It is their callousness that has led to this, and we'll all pay our dues." she mumbled.

"We'll tell them in the morning, then. We'll keep things quiet, lest the news reach the Targaryens in Dragonstone. Prince Aelor was our bargaining chip to Daemon and Saera. Now, Rhaenyra has taken him away." he gritted his teeth, placing all the blame on his former lover.

"His death will bring more battles than you anticipated." her moony voice trailed off, and they began marching towards the castle. Criston was unsure if that was her observation or her vision. "My grandfather thinks that the war will only be between Aegon and Rhaenyra, but he is wrong - that much I know." she whispered.

Inside the castle were a few Septas waiting for the delivery of Prince Aelor's body. "Then, you must leave, my Queen." Criston pleads.

Helaena gives him a knowing smile.

"We'll pay our dues, ser." she repeated her previous statement, before fading from his view, covered by the Septas.

We all process our grief in different ways. Aegon drowns himself with wines and whores. Helaena keeps to her children and visions, but Alicent does not have time to mourn.

"Prince Aelor was murdered by mercenaries that found their way inside of the Red Keep. It is obvious that this act of terrorism was committed by Rhaenyra's forces." Otto opens his mouth to speak, still at a shock that Aelor died the night before. "- Aemond killed her son and now she has gotten her revenge. A son for a son." he added.

Alicent licks her lips.

It makes her a fool to sympathize with the enemy, right?

"Ser Criston Cole found Princess Alyssa sprawled on the floor, covered in her own blood - obviously shaken." Ser Otto further expanded on his thought. "Where is Aemond?" Alicent inquired. "The damn boy has always done as he pleased." Otto raised his voice.

"His son is dead - his wife is useless." he cursed.

"What is it that you want me to do?" Aegon raised his eyebrow. "A murder happened inside of your castle. Rhaenyra will not chafe her knees. We must force her now - Saera will turn against her. The perfect time for making allies." Otto placed a hand on the table.

Alicent shook her head unconsciously.

In disbelief at the recent turn of events.

"Victory has never been closer to us. If we play our cards right, we'll be mere days until the rebellion in Dragonstone is vanquished." Otto estimated and Aegon nodded his head.

"To war, then?" he smirked.

Four walls, a ceiling and a floor.

None of them were enough to contain Alyssa's grief. A few hours ago, she was taken from her room and moved to a part of the castle that she's never seen before. There was a layer of dust collecting on the windowsill. She hasn't moved for a long time now.

There was hardly anything written about losing a child, more commonly - the child got to bury their parent. It was nature, a parent and a child's life only meets halfway until the former dies and watches from the afterlife.

The same thing couldn't be said for Alyssa.

A knock on the door breaks her free from her thoughts, and Aemond enters the chambers. "Alyssa," his face is a mess - it looks like he hasn't gotten any sleep since he arrived.

Her gaze turned sharply in his direction. "What are you doing here?" her voice leaked with venom, and he takes a step backwards. She has never spoken to him in that tone before. "Is it true?" he asked, praying to the gods that it was just a rumor.

"It is your fault, and yours alone." she could not managed to raise her voice, but the venom remained. "I-I," he could not form his words. A single tear flowed down his eye, before he bolted away - slamming the door loudly.

Aemond was only ten and three when he lost his virginity. It was to a woman almost twice his age, a brothel-madam that Aegon forced unto him. He's never forgotten the incident, the whispers of protest that evaded his mouth - and now he goes to back to it.

"You're back," the woman raised her eyebrows. He collapses into her arms, wrapping her in a warm embrace. 'Coward' he insulted himself. His wife was grieving in Maegor's Holdfast. Aelor was cold in the crypts, and his family was mere seconds away from certain war.

He was here. He was alive.

Of all the people that deserved to die, why was he alive?

Her hands trailed down to his chest, removing his cloak and tunic. Unbuttoning it with ease. "You're safe," the woman whispered - silencing him with a kiss.

next chapter >>

[the-broken-truth]

Yuu - Child of the Great Seven [3]: The Queen of Hearts in Heartslabyul

Broken: Welcome back. Time for the Great Seven to venture to their Respective Dorms. Let us see how the Queen of Hearts reacts to how Riddle Rosehearts manages the Heartslabyul Dormitory.

[When Riddle asked the Students of Heartslabyul to gather in the foyer, they were confused when their Dorm Warden explained that they would be entertaining and serving a very special guest for a week; everyone was confused, but that confusion turned into shock when their eyes landed upon the Queen of Hearts standing between Riddle and Yuu, who stood there with their hands in their pockets; thinking about how Grim wanted to remain in Ramshackle to absorb the fact his 'henchman' was actually the Offspring of the Twisted Wonderland's Gods.]

Riddle (Clearing his throat): I am sure you are all very confused and on edge at the moment, but there is no reason to panic. Allow me to explain: Earlier today, the Great Seven arrived at our school to see their child, who was revealed to be Yuu, The Prefect of Ramshackle.

Yuu (Waves their hand): Hello, All. Good to see you again.

Ace: Wait... Yuu is the Child of the Great Seven?! I thought they were magicless and came from another world!

Yuu (Scratches the back of their head with a small chuckle): Well, I was kinda telling the truth: I was born in another dimension and I lived my life in another world, but I have always known who I was and where I came from. As for my magic... (Holds up their hand - revealing the ring) I wear this ring to conceal my magic because it's...stronger than average magic and I didn't want to hurt the people I came to care about.

Deuce: That is...a lot of information to process.

Cater: So... My Best Friend is the Child of the Queen of Hearts?

Ace (Glares at Cater): Your best friend?! Yuu is my best friend!

Deuce: Both of you are wrong, I am the one Yuu considers to be their best friend.

Trey: I am pretty sure that I am the one who holds that title.

Riddle (Glares at the 4 of them): Be quiet! This is not the time for your bickering!

Yuu (Walks over to Riddle and places a tender hand on his shoulder): Riddle, remember what we talked about.

Riddle: A True Leader has a cool and collected head; going off at the slightest thing is the sign of a tyrant. (Inhales then Exhales) Sorry, Yuu.

Yuu (Smiles at him): It's okay, Riddle; you're still learning, but you are getting better.

Queen of Hearts (Smiling): Your calming nature really seems to aid even the most stressed souls, My Little Heart.

Yuu: Thanks, Mum.

Queen of Hearts (Looking towards the Heartslabyul Students): As Dorm Leader Rosehearts explained, I shall remain here for one week while myself and the rest of the Great Seven spend time with our child at Night Raven. Yuu shall not be attending classes or attending the Headmaster's Whims; this is the week that they are going to relax.

Yuu (Looks at the Heartslabyul Students): There is also something else I would like to ask: Please, do not change your opinion of me or call me by unnecessary honorifics. I am still Yuu Arisugawa - Prefect of Ramshackle and Friend of Night Raven. Please, know that I am still concerned about all of your well-being.

[All the Heartslabyul Students watch Yuu, but all they can see is the blinding light of Yuu's Positive Personality shining behind them like a divine halo.] Heartslabyul Students & Riddle (Thinking in Unison): 'THEY ARE A LITERAL ANGEL! WE ARE NOT WORTHY!'

Queen of Hearts (Smiling at Yuu): It would seem you have captured the hearts of those in this dormitory, My Little Heart; I expect nothing less of you. Before I am given a tour of the dormitory and shown where I shall be resting my head, I would be ever so grateful if you were to make yourself presentable to the people of this dorm.

Yuu (Looks at the Queen of Hearts): You want me to don your colors, don't you, Mum?

Queen of Hearts (Smiles): I would be pleased if you did this for me, Little Heart.

Yuu: Very well. Your wish is my command, Mum.

[Yuu lifts their right hand and snaps: a flutter of rose petals seems to appear out of nowhere and spin around Yuu in a cyclone formation. The cyclone continues to flow around the Prefect until they snap again, causing the petals to scatter away from them and reveal their new appearance. Yuu is now dressed in a Heartslabyul-like outfit with a crown befitting royalty. There is a small red heart marking under their eye and a sea of crimson highlights in their coal-colored hair. Yuu moves their hand down and a scepter of hearts appears in their hand.]

Queen of Hearts: Oh! A splendid display of grace, My Little Heart! You seem to have placed your friends in a trance with your elegance.

Yuu: Your kind words please me, Mum.

[After taking a while to admire Yuu's New Appearnce & the Queen of Hearts, Riddle and Trey give the Queen of Hearts a proper tour of Heasrtlabyul Dorm as well as a glourious room where she will be straying for the duration of the time she is there to spend with Yuu. Once everything is said and done, Yuu proposes a tea party in the Rose Maze Garden. The Queen of Hearts agerly agree...before asking Yuu what day of the month it is, to Yuu states that is the 5th Day of the Month.]

Rule 25 of the Queen of Hearts' Court: There must always be a tea party on the 5th day of every month.

[The Queen of Hearts & Riddle sit at a grand decorated table in the middle of the Rose Maze as Yuu stands beside their Mum with their hands behind their back as Trey comes over to them with a fresh pot of tea and tray of strawberry tarts. Trey pours the tea while Yuu presents the tarts to Riddle and the Queen of Hearts before the two of them bow their heads and step away from the table before returning to their original posts.]

Queen of Hearts (Lifting her teacup to her lips): Now, Riddle Dear, I have witnessed a great number of things since the moment my Precious Yuu entered this world. I must say, I am rather pleased that you have taken the Mantle of Dorm Warden of Heartslabyul and you have enforced all 810 of the Rules of My Court; it pleases me greatly, Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle (Bowing his head): Thank you, My Queen.

Queen of Hearts (Sips her tea and places her cup back on the saucer): However... Just as have seen the good things that have happened in this dorm, I have also seen the bad. Such as your Overblot Episode, Young Riddle.

[Riddle, Ace, Deuce, and Trey seem to stiffen up when the Queen of Hearts brings up the Overblot, but Yuu seems rather calm as they stand by their Mum.]

Queen of Heart: For the Dorm Warden of Heartslabyul Dorm to Overblot in such a way, destroying my garden, and threatening the lives of those in his court in the Name of his Queen's Rules are both admirable but it broke my heart to see you committing such atrocities. If I were not so understanding, it would be Off with Your Head, Riddle Roseheart.

[Riddle trembling in his seat.]

Queen of Hearts: However... I could not bring myself to do something like that to a soul that has suffered so much already.

[The Queen of Hearts reaches across the table and places a tender hand on Riddle's Head, gently caressing his red hair with sadness in her eyes.]

Riddle (Looks at the Queen of Hearts with wide eyes): My Queen?

Queen of Hearts: Through your Overblot & combat with my Little Heart, I have seen the life you lived and I am even more heartbroken at the way you have suffered, more than I am when a member of my court breaks one of my rules. To have a tyrant of a mother that would sculpt your life just as your own has would have broken the strongest of souls, but you have lasted for so long; I respect your strong spirit. That is why I would like to ask something of you, Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle: Anything, My Queen.

Queen of Hearts: Ease up a bit. I am not saying that you should not enforce my rules, but I am asking that you be more lenient with the more uncommon rules of my court. When a rule is broken, find more appropriate punishments to fit the crimes instead of collaring someone and making their head roll. Consult with your Vice Dorm Warden to find proper solutions. Understood?

Riddle and Trey: Yes, My Queen.

Queen of Hearts (Leans back in her seat with a smile on her face): Perfect. Now, that is out of the way, we can speak to about more...pressing issues. Ace Trappola. Deuce Spade. Present yourselves to your queen at once!

[Ace and Deuce were trembling as they presented themselves before the Queen of Hearts. However, the Queen collared them and forced them to sit on their calves with their hands on their knees and heads down. She then started lecturing them about their disrespectful behavior towards Riddle and their constant rule-breaking spree. The lecture went on for two hours. Meanwhile, Yuu was being questioned by Riddle and Trey about their abilities as the offspring of the Queen of Hearts, and whether they would like to create their own set of rules to be enforced in Heartslabyul. (@sakurakudo - Thank you!!!).]

[When night falls, Yuu walks out of the Heartslabyul Dormitory with their hands in their pockets as they near the mirror when they are suddenly stopped as Riddle runs out to them with a pastry box in his hands.]

Riddle (Stopping in front of Yuu, bows his head to them, and presents the box): Please, accept this for coming to Heartslabyul.

Yuu (Looks at RIddle): Riddle, lift your head and look me in my eyes.

[Riddle slowly lifts his head and looks into Yuu's shining eyes - they seem upset with his display of respect. Before Riddle can ask what is what, Yuu opens their mouth to speak.]

Yuu: Riddle, do you remember when I first came here? You thought I was a rule breaker and you have collared me a few times. You overblotted and I had to save you, however, it was through all of that we were able to become friends. I am grateful that we are friends and I want to remain friends, I don't want you to change how you act around me just because the Queen of Hearts happens to be my Mum. Never bow your head to me again and embrace me as the first you have known me to be. Please.

Riddle: I... I understand. Sorry, Yuu. (Smiles at them)

Yuu (Smiling at Riddle): It's okay, Riddle. (Looks at the box in Riddle's Hands) What do we have here?

Riddle: The Queen of Hearts told us that you really liked Strawberry Cheesecake and Trey wanted to make you one since you don't really eat anything during the Tea Parties. Please, accept this.

Yuu (Takes the box): Thank you, Riddle, I shall enjoy this. I better get back to Ramshackle before Grim gets too bored. See you later, Riddle. (Turns and walks away)

Riddle: Please, come visit whenever you want! You are always welcome to Heartslabyul, Yuu!

[Yuu looked back at Riddle with a smile before walking through the mirror to return to the Hall of Mirrors; since there was no mirror that was linked to Ramshackle, Yuu used their power to teleport to their proper dorm, where Grim pounced on them the moment they entered the door and demanded scratches and cheesecake.]

[END]

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Warnings: Swearing

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon × Targ oc

1.06

“Dayanara?”

Your eyes fill with tears the second you hear Rhaenyra’s voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.”

Seeing you standing with a dark-haired babe in her arms, Rhaenyra feels a mix of emotions: shock, confusion, and guilt. When you stopped visiting Dragonstone, she knew something was wrong, but when none of the ravens she sent asking about your well-being were answered, she assumed Alicent was behind it, but never did she expect this. Soon as Rhaenyra returned to Dragonstone, the maester asked to speak to her in private as a matter of urgency and informed her that you had arrived earlier with a babe.

Her eyes brim with tears as she gulps down, “Wha—what is the child’s name?”

“Aelia, she’s my daughter,” you weep. “Mine and Jacaerys, I’m so sorry, Rhaenyra.”

You weren’t sure what you expected to happen next. Rhaenyra, to let you stay? For Jace to accept his daughter and proclaim his undying love for you? And that you’d live happily ever after? It was a nice thought—more of a foolish dream—to imagine anything good would happen next.

The door to the bedchamber creaks slightly, and you turn and see Prince Daemon glaring at you. He storms forward. “What did she just say?” He repeats the question when neither of you answer. “Jacaerys has a bastard with a green? No doubt another trick was orchestrated by those Hightower cunts. How do we know if the child is hers?”

You step back, holding Aelia closer. More tears spill from your eyes; it hurts to know he thought of you so poorly, especially since you were once so close to Rhaenyra’s small family.

“That’s enough,” Rhaenyra says sternly. “Nara is nothing like that; my sister would not lie about such a thing.”

“Is that so?” he snarks, only addressing his wife. “I distinctly remember the look on Prince Jacaerys face being similar to the one on yours whenever the greens toyed with you. All the years of cruelty you suffered—”

“I never meant to hurt Jace! I love him,” the words blurt out of your mouth. “I—I—I never wanted any of this; you must believe me. I wish things could have been so different.”

Your elder sister's eyes gloss over again as she watches you place the babe in the cot the master has brought to you. “What happened?”

You swallow hard; it takes all of your strength to not crumble under Daemon’s hateful gaze, but you refuse to give him that power over you. “I didn’t know I was with child,” you say, picking at the skin surrounding your nails. “It was only when Aegon kept making comments about my weight that the queen figured it out. I wanted to tell Jace, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the keep or write to him. I wasn’t allowed to see my brothers or Helaena until after I’d given birth; she kept me in complete isolation.”

“King Viserys wouldn’t have allowed that,” Daemon hisses.

“My father never knew. The maester told them I had a contagious sickness. And when I gave birth…” A sharp pain shoots across your chest as you feel the weight of your mother's betrayal crashing down, making it difficult to breathe. “They…they…”

Tenderly Rhaenyra strokes at your cheek. “What on earth did they do to you, my sweet?”

“They told me Aelia was dead, that she died after I’d given birth. I’ve spent all this time mourning my daughter, who was alive. She was being kept in the queen's quarters the entire time.” You try to push the awful memories aside, but they don’t budge, causing you to sob hysterically. Rhaenyra places her hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair in an attempt to soothe you. “The midwives who were there have been dismissed from the keep, and the only other person who knows is Ser Criston. He’s the one who told me Aelia was alive.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra share an unreadable look.

“There’s still so much I need to share with you, sister, but...” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I know I have no right to ask, but may I tell Prince Jacaerys? I want to apologize for everything in person.”

“You may,” Rhaenyra nods, her eyes moving to Aelia, who was starting to whimper. “He has taken to his bedchambers to get ready for dragon riding. If you’re quick, you may catch him before he leaves. I’ll watch over Aelia for now.”

—

The look on Jacaerys face makes you feel sick; he was distraught and looked as if he might throw up. Within the space of a few minutes, you’d pulled the rug out from underneath him. Not only did Jacaerys know he was a father, but his daughter would be tainted with bastardy like him.

You take a deep breath. “She looks like you. Aelia, she has your hair and nose.”

Jace says nothing.

You go over the side of the bed he’s sitting on and kneel in front of him, trying to get him to look at you. Jace looked so happy when he first opened the door to his bedchamber and saw you standing there. “Jacaerys, please say something. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He sounds deflated. “You've got nothing to apologize for; you didn't ask for this.”

“Didn't I? I chose to have six before marriage; I brought this on myself." You wipe away fallen tears with the back of your hand. “You need to believe me that I wanted to leave; I wanted to be with you!”

“It’s not your fault, Nara. I wrote to you every day. I tried to see you.”

“I never knew you tried to see me or sent ravens until a member of the kingsguard confessed the queen had them destroy all the ravens.”

You attempt to keep your tears at bay by squeezing your eyes shut, but they fall anyway. Jace wipes them away with the pads of his thumb. “I need to speak with my mother. Try and fix this mess before it’s too late.” Seeing the look of hurt on your face, Jace tried to retract what he said: “I didn’t mean it in the way that it sounded; I’m just trying to figure out how to solve this before your honor comes into question.”

“I don’t care what people say about me.”

“I do, because anything said about us will pass on to Aelia.”

Hearing the pain in his voice makes you cry even harder. “You're right, I've just—I can't think clearly. God only knows what Alicent has spread. I’m scared, Jace; you don’t know how vicious she can be. The things that she threatened me with... I can't forgive her.”

He goes silent for a few moments. “Where is Aelia?”

“With Princess Rhaenyra. Do you want to meet her?”

“Yes… no… I’m terrified.”

A soft smile pulls on your lips. “Let’s go then.”

—

The last few hours have been hectic. You stand in front of the black-painted table, studying each of the different houses and their locations on it. A single tear rolls down your cheek. Hearing the footsteps of someone walking up behind you, you turn to face them, fully expecting to see Jacaerys or Rhaenyra, but are surprised to see it’s Daemon. Gulping, you lower your head to look at the table again.

“Uncle.”

“We need to speak.”

Oh.

“If you’ve come to call me a Hightower cunt, there’s no need. I already know what you think of me and my daughter being here.”

When Jacaerys first laid eyes on your daughter, he started to sob, and while Rhaenyra comforted her son, Daemon became enraged and demanded you take your ‘bastard’ and leave Dragonstone at once, which caused him and your sister to argue.

“I used to pray to the gods nightly, begging them to bring my daughter back to me and to be reunited with Jacaerys. But never did I think it would be under such circumstances.”

“The gods can give as much as they take. Where is the girl now?”

“Aelia is with Jacaerys and Princess Rhaenyra.” You turn and face the board again. “My sister has shown me more kindness than my own mother ever has.”

He scoffs and comes to stand beside you at the table. “You could have gone anywhere on Dragonback. Why did you come here?”

“I considered going to Essos, but when Kain was in the sky, I told him to take us home.”

“And Dragonstone feels like home to you?” He asks sarcastically.

“No, but Jacaerys does.”

He rolls his eyes, “that’s very touching but you have brought fucking chaos into our house. And I want to know what you're planning to do about it?”

“I want revenge.”

“That is all very touching, but you have brought fucking chaos into our home.” Daemon rolls his eyes. “And I want to know what you're planning to do about it, niece?”

“I want revenge.”

[itskindofidontknow]

What dreams know about love?

Chapter 6

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

"Lord husband" Love made herself present as soon as she entered his bedroom. If it wasn't for the peeling wallpaper, dust and decaying state of everything, the queen wouldn't know time had actually passed since their last private encounter. Things tend to stay the same in her husband’s palace, which was almost laughable since dreams are convoluted and always changeable. She entwined her fingers against her belly, her green eyes facing her husband, a very formal demure, but then, everything between them was formal.

Morpheus was discussing with his new raven, Matthew, as she recalled. Both speaking in internal voices. She didn’t hear what was the subject and they abruptly stopped when she arrived, her husband jumped at his feet, hands regally clasped together, looking like a young Austen Hero anxious in seeing his loving lady. Love never saw her husband so promptly to receive her. "Forgive me, I was not aware you were in a private audience. I shall leave you to it. I can return another time. Matthew." She apologizes, lowering her head to Dream and acknowledging the raven, as he awkwardly made a curtsy. It would actually be a relief if Morpheus dismissed her. She could return to the Garden and call it a night. Heavens knew she needed to sleep everything off.

As she turned her back to leave, her husband's calm but demanding tone made her stop. "Stay.” A calm order. A husband shouldn’t order his wife around. One of the oldest ingredients to make a disaster of marriage. Everytime she saw mortals, when the husband started to order the wife around, she knew it wouldn’t be a happy story. And rarely, Love was wrong

The brunette queen didn’t get offended by his commands, not anymore. In early years of union, she found deeply offensive the things he would say and do to her. She would silently weep, but now they did nothing. Before she could turn and nod in agreement, he hesitantly added in a softer foreign tone “Please.” Words that Love thought her husband would never say “Matthew is already leaving." Morpheus justified, his hand indicating the door to the raven, the pair quickly shared a knowing look.

If he ever made an effort to be in her company, Eoster couldn’t remember.

But then again, he was touch-starved. Men do impressive and uncharacteristic things for women’s good graces when they want something.

" Very well." With a tired sigh, turning her heels, she made her way to the bed as the white tulle of the camisole danced behind her. Sitting at her usual spot, the edge of the bed, stretching her camisole, crossing her heels with an upright posture, distracting herself, or better, avoiding looking at his direction, running fingers through the braid’s loose curls. The familiar soft mattress and dark satin covers were nostalgic to Love, better companions than her husband ever was.

“Have a good night, your majesty” The raven said it right before the door closed behind him, Matthew knew from his human years the sad truth behind that beautiful empty solemn face of the Queen. The dutiful wife, the classic stepford smiler. Forever upholding the shambles of marriage she couldn’t leave, being blamed by a misery she didn’t provoke, haunted by the shadows of mistresses she doesn’t know, obsessive trying to understand where it all went wrong.

The raven was thankful for not having to stay with them for any longer. Tension rose through the roof as soon as the royals got together. The boss never mentioned a wife, and yeah, Dream was not exactly Mr. Open Feelings, but a little warning that a boss lady was in the picture would've been nice. Back in the throne room, he saw in her face the accustomed embarrassment when the raven didn’t recognize her by name.

Lucienne didn’t help with any explanations, repeatedly saying that it was ‘complicated’ and that ‘They absolutely shouldn’t meddle between the King and the Queen’. That he got just from seeing their early interaction. And Marvyn said something in the lines ‘Look kid, all you need to know is to treat her well, and avoid the boss after they fight.’

Matthew didn’t want to assume Dream was to blame, but things were pretty obvious. First, the lady boss mentioned affairs, which are never good. Second, earlier, when they were retrieving the dreamsand, Morpheus remembered, with an unusual urgency, that he had to go back and see his wife, like he wasn’t used to going back to her. A new habit that he wasn’t yet on track. And the third, and final strike, that confirmed that his boss fucked it up: He was being uncharacteristic caring, like he wanted to make it up for a mistake, and the queen was not buying it. The woman barely showed any expression when he asked her to stay or said ‘please’ which, knowing Dream of the Endless, was shocking.

Matthew might be a bird now, but he knew that if the boss was expecting a little fun time with the boss lady, well, he was going to be surprised by the fun I-have-a-headache time. And by the look of his queen, he might get that for a long time. That wasn't the face of a woman ready to forgive.

As for him, the raven was relieved and grateful to the Queen or he would be in literal Hell right now, retrieving the King’s helmet. They would still go, but at least not now. Maybe Matthew would have some time to fly over to Lucienne, so that she could put some sense in the king’s head before just going to Hell. A better strategy maybe.

Love would’ve remained in complete silence, until hearing the sound of unfastening belt, her usual queue to lay down, and try to find something to do with her time, while Morpheus found his pleasure. That was how they usually did it. Silence, muffled growls, dull whimpers, cleaning cloths. “ My presence might be in one of your books. I retrieve my sand amidst a final encounter of two lovers.” If Love didn’t know better, she would’ve thought her husband was trying to awkwardly make small talk. He wandered through the room, before standing in front of her. One side of Love wishes for a fight. It burned her throat, wanting to question him when he missed one of his precious little toys, but instead, she answered distantly, her lips pushed in a forced discreet smile while looking up to him “How fortunate”

Before even leaving the Garden, she knew he had visited Johanna Constatine. Due to the woman’s line of work, it made sense that he retrieved his sand from her. Her knowledge of Constantine and Dream’s encounter was not because of curiosity of the queen. She long learned to avoid pain, meant to avoid sniffing around her husband’s private encounters. Her heart felt relieved that he didn’t immediately look for comfort in another woman’s bed. A feeling Love couldn’t escape, as much as she wisely knew it would only hurt her.

Dream went to Johanna because of his sand, and he stumbled into a misfortune story between two lovers. One that had her life tormented by the occult, and the other, tormented with addiction. Poor Johanna and Rachel, doomed from the start, at the end of their tale, however, an unusual substance was what brought them together for a final reunion, and was also responsible for the second one inevitable fate: Dream sand. And in those pages, there was her husband. The responsible for giving Rachel a peaceful death, dreaming of love. A painful story, with a bittersweet ending.

He could’ve let her die a painful death, especially after abusing his precious sand. Sand that was stolen, and traded. But he graced her with a peaceful ending. If she didn’t know that the books from her library were always a raw portrait of lovers' entwined lives, Love would’ve thought they mistaken Morpheus for another anthropomorphic personification. Normally, he would let the mortal agonize in the end, a fair punishment for her sins. But this time, he showed empathy. That puzzled her more than she was willing to admit. Even worse, it made her uncertain of his unchangeable nature. Pondering that maybe, there was a small, but real hope.

Love dismissed those thoughts lightly, turning her attention back to the raven haired king, dangerously close to her, knees touching each other, both staring at each other in a silence that spoke more than words. Morpheus hesitantly touched her face, lightly caressing her cheek, she watched him as a wild animal near his predator, not able to predict what’s next. “You look beautiful” He softly whispered, lips curved in a small smile. A foreign intimacy. She shriveled at his touch, turning her face away “You don't have to woo me, to lay with me” She couldn’t stand his gaze, not when he was looking at her with such kindness, it hurted more than he could ever understand. Years after years she yearned for that kindness, for the soft touches, and he denied her. Now she felt insulted by it.

It was a laughable attempt to fix something long broken. Morpheus might reshape dreams and nightmares, create and rewrite stories, but he couldn’t erase her pain, he couldn’t pretend he made it impossible for them to be happy. He decided on a loveless marriage. Love has done everything she could and couldn't to make him happy and gained nothing but scars she did nothing to earn. The King of Dreams always had to be the miserable tortured lonely figure under the pouring rain, tricked and trapped.

“Forgive me, my lady, for misleading you” He cleared his throat steeping back, giving space to his wife, she could sense his uneasiness, some unusual red in his face, but his stoic front remained “I have no intentions in bedding you I-” Impatiently, she got up from the bed, walking to the other side of the bedroom turning to him, taking a deep breath “Lord Husband, we have been married for centuries now, in this time you only summoned me to your chambers when you wanted to bed me.” ‘And when there were no mistresses available’. She wished to say, but decided to avoid what would lead to a heated argument “That is not-" He started to defend himself, but Love was tired, she put a hand in her head trying to calm herself to not scream, sternly looking at him.

Both could feel the tension rising again, prelude to another fight " Yes, it is, husband.” Love signed hands dropping in defeat, tired of debating what is not up for debate. “I am beyond flattered by your remarks, but I am exhausted, if it pleases you, bed me, if not, I won't further bother you, and would appreciate being excused. Elijah is expecting me, I told him it would be brief." Love enterwind her hands against her front, assuming a stiff posture.

“You won’t be spending the night.” He concluded. The first time Morpheus said this to her, he briefly informed her about how their life in private would be: Separate rooms, separate beds, separate lives. This time, a hint of disappointment in his voice, as he expected that she would want to stay. Love had no idea why he thought she would like to.

Even if it wasn’t a question, Love answered. “No, I won’t. My room is probably still, in dreadful conditions”. Shattered glasses, wine stained sheets, pillow feathers everywhere. Their worst and final quarrel, it was a dreadful day and devastation followed closed by their screams at the sound of thrown glasses. “You can sleep here.” He mumbled softly and Love was certain she had imagined it. Not knowing if he was suggesting or demanding it, she tested the waters “So kind of you, husband” The grip on her fingers got tighter, her knuckles almost white in tension “But I would rather not. I would like to do your bidding and return to my realm.” If it was a demand, he would have been livid by the rejection, but it wasn't a rejection if he was merely politely suggesting, as one suggests, a friend to spend the night during a storm.

He slowly nodded "Of course.” So he was indeed suggesting. She could hear the engines in her husband’s head, as she let out a breath of relief. He wasn’t used to his cold apathetic and formal wife, and she wasn’t used to his new caring and respectful persona. Old Morpheus would’ve already been finished with her, and if they had half of the conversation they had, he would’ve humiliated her to remember her place. And Old Eoster would’ve already showered him with wet long kisses and giggles just by the spark of his attention.

“If you may, I would like to show you something.” Love looked from his face to his hand, now pointing to the door he opened. She didn't remember if her husband ever gave her so much choice in their relationship. It was frankly, overwhelming.

She wondered what would happen if she just said 'no'.

" Outside the bedroom”. He saw the obvious suspicion in her eyes “Is that your bidding?” He made a way so Love could exit first, “Yes, it is”. The woman avoidantly walked past him, still waiting for the catch.

As soon as both were in the corridor, he offered her his arm, and she politely denied it, by looking away. Once again, he surprisingly didn’t get offended by her denial. Why he was in a good mood to accept such defiance was a mystery. His realm was destroyed, his toys missing, and his wife apathetic and dismissive. No reason for being this nice. “Follow me" he walked a few steps in front of her and Love followed the dark figure of her husband, keeping a safe distance. They didn't talk much during their short walk, and Love took the time to assess the damage in the palace. There was no real destruction, but a real abandonment.

She guessed that was what happened when the monarch didn't attend the realm, probably what happened to Lord Destruction's, her brother in law's realm. The idea of abandoning her realm, her creations, the sole base of her existence was a brutal one. Sometimes the job overwhelmed her, but never enough to consider leaving it all behind to its own luck. " How are the plans to rebuild the Dreaming?" She asked, wanting to shove away those thoughts of fleeing away.

Also she was curious to know if he actually had any plans to rebuild his realm, or if he expected her to hold the solstice festival in a palace of deplorable conditions, dust all over the hallways from columns that were flaking "Why are you asking?" Love frowned at his tone "Am I not allowed to ask about it?" He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, cursing himself very aware of the thin line between passive aggressiveness and a straight heated argument. "That is not what I meant, lady wife"

Everything between them was a prelude to a fight. Morpheus and Eoster have never been on the same page, and they never stopped to try to get there. Both in such different headspaces that they were incapable of going through one conversation without misunderstanding each other. "You did not seem interested before in my quest to find my sand, I gather you weren't interested at all" He explained, if Dream looked back, he could see Love rolling her eyes "Well, I am interested in knowing the conditions I am to hold the Solstice Festival, husband.” The spite when calling him, sent Morpheus shivers. “If your memory fails you, It is one of the most important and prestigious festivals in the Garden, my apprentices debut on it and-” He turned to her, interrupting. "Worry not. I would not want to embarrass you " Love stretched her lips mumbling a ‘That would be a first’, lowering her head in a respect that didn't match her sharp answer " No? I am honored by your gracious newfound concern with my emotional distress". Love starred in defiance, walking closely past him, staying a few steps ahead.

Both returned to the silent walk, as they walked side by side. A few minutes of walk went by, until he opened two french doors with a single pull "We are here, my lady".

Love couldn’t hold her gasp.

Her Garden. Not her realm, but her garden in the Dreaming, ‘The Queen's Gardens’ as the dreamfolk would call. She forgot about it. The beautiful blooms in shades of red, pink, white, lilac, the sweet fragrance mixed with rain-washed earth, "It's the only part of the Dreaming that remained intact." He said it, stepping aside to let her enter. Of course it didn't fade. It wasn't Dream's powers that fueled it, but Love's. It has grown wild in her absence. Untamed nature, untrimmed, tempestuous, but full, strong, with deep roots.

She could see from the corner of her eyes, her husband admiring the red roses, reaching to touch one "Be careful, husband, spurned roses, grow sharp thorns" She said while admiring the long lilac cascades of Wisterias, that formed an arc at the entering, working their way into the crooks and crannies of the naked brick walls. Hyacinths, Carnations, Daisies, Roses, Casa Blanca Lilies in vivid colors, painting the gloomy field of the Dreaming, all fully grown and abundant. She slowly walked, tumbling in some weeds that had grown between paving stones.

It always gave her a warmth visiting her gardens after a long time. That nostalgic feeling, that makes the heart fuzzy but hurts the chest thinking of the time that went by. Her long skirt dragged through the damp floor, but Love didn't mind. " It was my first gift to you, a sanctuary were you could remember your home" Love allowed herself smile, inhaling the darling aromas, sitting in the stone bench made for two, that was almost covered in bold vines "And I love it, a white canvas I could not wait to show it to you when I finished it. Those-" She pointed at the other side of the garden, where Morpheus could see the nightly blooming flowers. “Moonflowers, Evening Primroses, Jasmines, Queen of The Night, all bloom at night. It was supposed to be a sigil of our love. The intersection between my springs and your nights.”

Love stared at the small water fountain, a few steps away from her, in the center of the garden, it still worked, as the sound of falling water filled their ears. Moss had grown around its base and aquatic weeds violently invaded the bowls although some water lilies still float. “I wanted it to be a small garden where lovers could dream and find each other here. I was so proud when I finished, I thought that…” A tight knot in the base of her throat, oh the naivety! She swallowed hard. “That if you could see how much I was devoted to it, you were going to see how I would be capable of caring for you, for your kingdom." Her mind lost in memories, remembering the thrill of her heart and the disappointment soon after realizing Dream would never come. "But you never came."

" But your creations did. Your nightmares. I have no idea how they found me, but they did. I pity their souls." She remembers Gault. The first time Love saw the nightmare she was almost tiptoeing, carefully walking, afraid of touching anything, afraid of destroying its peacefulness, its beauty, but eyes sparkling seeing the garden. "Tormented ones, forever hunted by their own craft." At first, Gault didn't stay much, jumping at her feet at the first sight of the Queen. But after some visits, and Love assuring the creation she couldn't change anything in her garden (not even if she wanted to), Gault started to walk with the Queen, learning about each flower, and before you know, Gault was helping water and trim the plants. In exchange, Love would get bits of her mind, she was interested in understanding how nightmares did their jobs, and if the burden was not heavy.

The Corinthian took a while, and Love often had to pretend not to see him sneaking into her garden. She didn't want to scare him away, but was anxious to get to know another of her husband's creations, especially the one she heard was one of his most 'perfect' ones. Although she could not fathom the idea of a perfect nightmare, being horrified by the thought of its meaning.

Even suspicious, Love welcomed the nightmare into her small greenery, after all, she was his Queen. "I think that here they had some peace, a small idyllic paradise, where they could just be a part of." Love liked to think she helped ease the pain in their hearts.

To be a dream was easy, everyone loved what you did, humans were eager to be around them, to meet them. To be a nightmare was a heavy burden. Eoster was no longer smiling when other memories, their terrible confessions, the pure agony and duality in their existence, came to her. How they could not wish for more, but needed to help mortals overthrown and face their fears. "I took advantage of those poor nightmares. '' Love confessed, a single tear rolling through her cheek, as her chest felt heavy " I lure them with kindness, something so foreign to them. Easing their heavy hearts with softhearted words, listening to their afflictions to masquerade the emptiness of my days, to fill my loneliness, knowing that my hands were tied.” Morpheus stood quiet, he knew she was talking more to herself than to him. He didn’t know. His obliviousness angers him. “I've never promised anything, of course, but maybe I should've. I should've done something." The king tried to cut her, knowing that trail of thoughts wouldn’t bring anything other than distress " My Lady, I…." But she continued, as more tears roll freely staining her face " If I did it, if I had the bravery to face you, if I wasn’t fearful you would toss me aside and isolate me more than you already did, maybe they would not have been gone, maybe they would not had left me here".

The Queen stayed in silence for a few minutes. Morpheus knew she was lonely, but never would have imagined how much it affected her. Loneliness was an old friend of the king, one that he grew used to. His Queen had loneliness imposed on her. No wonders she was moping in the corners in their first years of marriage. Morpheus didn’t share any royal duty with her, he didn’t allow her to go back to the Garden, and still got irritated when she looked for a little sympathy and was not content. The realization felt heavy in his chest: He made his wife a gilded cage, a bigger one than his glass prison but still, a cage. The nightmares, who would’ve thought, were a companionship for her, the only thing she had.

"I…"

In a sudden movement, the queen got up to her feet, cleaning with the back of her hand the stained tears.”Is that all? Did I attend to your bidding? May I return to my realm?" Morpheus felt an urgency to keep her, if she could just allowed him to do better, to find the right words…" Already? Don't you wanna…" She started to walk away, walking past him almost elbowing her husband. Love was almost at the door when she turned her heels, and forgot about poise and demure. "And you didn't give this for me to have a ‘part of home', husband, you gave it because you were annoyed by my constant ‘nagging' about the Garden.”

" That is not…" Again, she cut him "I heard you speaking to Lucienne, don’t deny it." Love heard both in the throne room, she remembers Lucienne asking the king if his wife liked the gift, and he dismissively replying that liking or not, at least she would stop nagging. That made Eoster furious. At the time, she kept her poise, after all she was eavesdropping even if it wasn’t on purpose, but now, it made her beyond furious. It made her enrage.

He spoke highly of himself as she should be grateful for a piece of 'her home' in his realm. Like he was this benevolent king. To Hell with that. "I didn't need a garden, I didn't need my home. I needed my husband. I needed us. I needed to make it here, our home, together. And you couldn't be bothered by it. You were too busy showering dear Calliope with your never ending passion!"

Love swore to herself she would never bring that woman’s name again, but that was exactly what he was doing and how he spent his time. Morpheus reacted quickly rushing toward her, like she cursed all of his siblings together. He got closed to Love, threatening look in his eyes, finger in her face" Don't you bring her into this." Love raised her eyes, facing him with the same intensity, not taking a single step back, slapping his finger down "Oh, but I will. You were so unbothered, that you put a child in her. Her, not me, not your own wife." The only one that could give him a legitimate heir. The flowers wither with her words, petals falling dry, the vibrant greens fading into paling browns.`”Not even to give me something to alleviate my pain, something to love. No. And you didn't even have the decency to hide him!"

How he ruined public events for her, where she needed to endure the looks of pity, the whispers that stopped as she got close, Love having to smile through it all, like she was an airhead that could not see what was under her nose. Speaking of love, devotion, like a fool. Having to walk around parties hanging in her husband’s arms, being forever polite, kind, elegant, excusing his moodiness, not showing a single regret or insatisfaction. It cut through her like a knife. "I was in pain! Tricked by…Calliope and I were togeth-" Morpheus caught himself justifying the unjustifiable. He promised to himself that he would condemn his wrong doings, he would agree with his wife, but out of habit, he dismissed her feelings, as his were the priority. He also did not like to be put against the wall like she was doing, calling his sins out in the open. Love was never one to do such things.

"What about my pain?! My suffering? Did my lord ever think about it? " She was openly crying, fighting the tears trying to speak, avoiding the whimper in the back of her throat "I did I-" He lied, stumbling to find the words. "No, you did not. Don't humiliate yourself by underestimating me with your pitiful lies. You gave me a garden.” She said spitefully, hands loudly falling between her side giving up. “Somewhere you could shove me away without judgmental looks from your subjects or your siblings." That was the truth, one that she hid for centuries, always repeating the narrative that he gave her the garden to be close to her home. "That's not- '' Again he tried to retrieve the narrative.

Maybe she would have listened if he wasn't trying to justify instead of owning his actions. How could she forgive him, if he was still trying to play the helpless tortured victim? Love was done, she turned her back to him, "Goodnight husband" Walking away at a fast pace. Morpheus watched her leave, as he felt something tickling his hair. Reaching for it, he saw a red petal with brown marks, the velvet touch was now dry and crumbling as he looked around, he realized the garden was now dead.

@secretdreamlandmentality @littlemoistcarrot @lokigirlszendaya

[syn4k]

False had been mining for copper for... hours. Days? Time gets a little bit weird down in the deeps, and she remembered something that someone (a reflective surface on a clock face: still her face, but not an outfit she'd ever worn before) had told her once. Something an old friend had told them. It's wise to keep a stopwatch in the mines, he'd said, because if you don't you'll forget time existed at all pretty quick.

False hadn't brought a stopwatch.

She'd been mining copper for a while.

Several shulkers in her pockets and one extra hoisted onto her shoulder, she made her ascent with a small sigh and a slight wince. Her knees were NOT going to appreciate that later.

Her base was still right where she'd left it, every little trinket still in place and nothing touched as far as she could tell. A little clockwork copper raven lay sideways on her desk, innards splayed outwards and stomach open to the elements. Gears, springs, miniature pistons. Outside, the evening- morning? no, definitely evening sun shone low and heavy through her high windows. She checked her communicator, refreshed the chat. Just a lot of logging-out messages, the last one Pix from two weeks ago. All the ones before were even older than that.

False felt slight goosebumps raising on her biceps.

She hurriedly rubbed them back to warmth. They were probably just on vacation or something. It was fine. She stepped outside. The air was warm and sweet, high spring in the North, and she decided right then and there that she'd pull up a chair and just watch the sun set or something. Gods knew she needed the vitamin D.

Dragging a dusty folding chair outside (really, everything inside of her base was dusty, how long had she been down there??), False beat the dirt off one side, flipped it over, and did the same there, breaking spiderwebs with her bare hands and a wrinkle of the nose. Thankfully, the straps of fabric seemed intact and the joints moved smoothly, if not with a breath of resistance.

She set the chair down on the ground and sat down carefully on it, testing her weight, then leaned back and folded her hands over her stomach. The weather WAS nice, and she wondered why anyone would take a vacation when the world right here was just as picturesque.

False sat there a little while in perfect repose, body warmed by the waning sunlight, before suddenly snatching at her communicator next to her and reading the chat logs over again. Pixlriffs left the game. TheOrionSound left the game. GeminiTay left the game. MythicalSausage left the game. SmallishBeans left the game. Everyone else was listed there too, and before that there were a couple of Warden deaths. Currently, False was the only one online.

Of course, she didn't really have anywhere else to go. Other people had their worlds and their other servers and their own projects to attend to. False was just... here. Always had been, and she supposed she always would be. She couldn't really imagine herself anywhere else, anyways. Where would she go? A singleplayer world? No, that would drive her mad. MCC? Laughable. Hermitcraft? No, no, they'd know something was wrong. They'd give her questions she wouldn't be able to answer. False had seen the squints Gem had given her when she thought she wasn't looking, had seen how Pix had raised an eyebrow minutely when first raising her. False was smart enough to know that something was up. She was also smart enough to not press the matter.

Still, she did suppose it was a little strange that nobody had logged on in what, a fortnight? Even during the crossover, people still dropped in regularly to work on things quietly or get some trade deals on when the cameras were off. Even Oli had still dropped by once when he was supposedly on hiatus, and that had only lasted a few days.

Yeah. Okay. Maybe more than a little weird, but it was fine, False was like the queen of weird. Gods above, her secrets had secrets! She knew about as much about herself as she did her machines, which is to say, a lot but not everything. Not the full histories. If she read the stories told in the weathering of the copper she had crafted as her veneer, what would she read there?

Would her blood shine a bright verdigris as it was shed by the shining horrible truth?

Not the healthiest relationship to have with yourself and your history, probably, but False was also the queen of dealing the hands she was given. And the queen of this empty town, population her. Dealing with other probably empty by now towns.

Well damn, she couldn't quite ignore the fact that she'd been left behind now, could she?

With a sigh, False set down her communicator. She'd deal with that once she figured out how long she'd been down mining. Given that it was well into spring by now, judging by the trees, it'd been at least a month.

Wait, a month?

She must have made a mistake. There was no way that-

False's communicator beeped. She picked it up.

Pixlriffs joined the game.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Okay. Someone was here besides her, at least. And she was even on friendly terms with him! Well. Probably. They'd exchanged copper like, twice. False was pretty sure that counted.

<FalseSymmetry> hey <Pixlriffs> hello? <FalseSymmetry> dude where were you it's been two weeks <Pixlriffs> It's been two weeks? <FalseSymmetry> yeah nobody's logged on at all <FalseSymmetry> come to my base? <Pixlriffs> Where are you?

Again, those goosebumps. (Gods, they were getting annoying.) False frowned. It was a bit weird that Pix didn't remember where her base was, but then again he hadn't been over here in a while and he hadn't even been on the server since two weeks ago. She had to cut him some slack. With a shrug, False copied her coordinates and sent them into chat.

<Pixlriffs> wow that's a long way from where I am right now <FalseSymmetry> yeah lol <Pixlriffs> Okay, I'll be right over. Might be a minute though <FalseSymmetry> that's ok <FalseSymmetry> take your time

False put her communicator back down onto the ground besides her and waited, folding her arms again. The sun crept slowly down, eye-searing yellow fading to a more manageable red that stained the clouds purple and pinks and subtly ever-changing hues of grey. The sun dipped below the horizon. The stars came out. Pix was still not there.

False was considering asking if he was alright or something when she saw a human-shaped figure step into view in the glow of the torches she had set on her bridge. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and waved, getting up and walking forwards to meet him. "Hey," she said as Pix got closer into view. "It's been... a minute."

The face was Pixl's, but lined and worn. He looked like, ten years older. Instead of the button-down navy shirt and brown cargo pants he always wore, he was instead draped in loose, thin sand-colored robes that were bordered by a gradient reminiscent of the colors of copper. A brown shirt could be glimpsed beneath. His pants were grey and similarly loose, and instead of hiking boots he wore strapped leather sandals. False looked him up and down quickly. "Had a rough vacation?"

"Vacation?" he asked, sounding confused. His hair was down, and the grey streaks in it were more pronounced than False had noticed before. Beard too. What the hell had he been up to?

"Yeah," said False. "You've been gone for like, two weeks. You look like you aged ten years. I like the outfit, though. It's very," she waved her hand, "swoosh-y."

"Two weeks?" asked Pix, definitely sounding confused and now concerned. "I think it's been longer than two weeks."

"How long have you been out, then?" asked False.

"A month or two maybe? Maybe longer. I sort of lost track of the time, unfortunately."

"Oh, I feel that," said False, trying to ignore the knot that was tying itself oh so neatly in her stomach. "I've been mining for a while. Getting copper, y'know?" She thumbed backwards. "It takes a while."

"That it does," said Pix. His eyebrows furrowed, and he walked a little bit closer to False. "Do I know you?"

The knot pulled itself tight with a snap, and despite the warmth of the evening False was suddenly very cold. "Yeah," she said. "I- I've been trading you copper."

"I don't remember seeing you anywhere before this, though," said Pix now. "You're sure?"

False lied through her teeth. "I'm sure."

Pix stepped back and looked around, arms folded. "Okay, because I am 99% certain that I have never seen this place before in my life. Where- what's your name again? Where are we?"

"I'm False," she said, backing up a little. "This- this isn't funny anymore, Pix. Everyone's been gone for two weeks and they haven't come back yet. They've never done that before. I thought that you of all people would know what was going on-"

"False," Pix repeated, urgently now. Brown eyes met teal. "Where are we?"

"You're in Cogsmeade, and this is the Empires server," said False. "But you know that already. What are you getting at? Is this your idea of a prank?"

"It's not," said Pix. "This isn't Empires."

"What do you mean it isn't Empires? This is the server. You've been playing on it for a year and a half."

"This isn't the same place," said Pix, gesturing around him. "There's no Rivendell, no Mythlands, no Grimlands, none of that. This isn't the Empires I remember. I've never met you, and you've never met- well, not me me anyways. Something's up here."

False stood there silently for a little while, goosebumps returning to her arms. She got the feeling that they would be staying there for a while. The wind had turned cold, and somewhere behind her she could see that copper raven, still flayed, still unfinished. Time. She'd run out of time. She thought she'd had enough before the season ended- she'd run out of time.

"Do you want to go inside?" she asked.

"Sure."

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 5 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: Slow burn, NSWF… All the past warnings and series warnings apply lol this is just pure filth lol not gonna lie.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle Turner. Welcome to Le Hotel Shangri-La Paris. We hope you had a pleasant travel experience? I know you must be tired.” 

As if her body wanted to respond to the concierge who was leading her through the hotel, her only response was a deep yawn that made him hum in agreement. 

“Sorry… the jet lag is rough.” She had been so anxious on the flight that she had barely slept. She had thought of a million random things… the dangers of traveling alone, even though she was meeting someone else, how much time Michael would actually have to spend with her, if it was even safe to travel halfway around the world with a man she met a little over a month ago, how she knew precious little about what even they were going to do for a week. She had just boarded a flight and asked little to no questions. Once she was on the flight, it dawned on her that if something went wrong, she knew nothing and no one there. Just Michael. But still, despite those practical concerns, she did not regret the decision. She was hopeful that it was going to be as amazing as she imagined it would be as she prepared all week.

She took a sip of the glass of champagne they gave her upon arrival. She could now fully understand why the wealthy were so determined to remain so if this was how they lived. This was high living, high cotton as her grandma used to say. From the moment she stepped out of her apartment building to right now, she had not had to use her brain to think of a single thing. Everything was taken care of. She had not even touched a single piece of her luggage since she left the apartment. When she landed in Paris, she had a moment of panic as she realized she did not know how to get to her hotel. She was about to make a beeline toward a taxi when she spotted a burly driver holding a sign up with her name who took her straight to the hotel. 

The hotel was something plucked straight out of every novel she had ever read about kings and queens, a converted palace drenched in finery and elegance. The marble hallways gilded in gold, tall ceilings donned with crystal chandeliers. It was as if she had stepped back in time and was headed to a ball. And it had all been thoughtfully arranged by a certain prince. 

“Well, Mr. Jordan ensured your suite would be ready when you arrived so you can rest. Though I tend to recommend remaining awake if you can. We are in a fantastic location. There is much to see and do and we have a car here for you. Monsieur Martin, the gentleman who picked you up from Charles de Gaulle? He will be your driver during your stay. He can take you anywhere you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” 

“This,” the man opened the door to her suite. “Is our suite Chaillot.” He pushed open the door and held it so Raven could enter first, her eyes widening as she took in the suite. 

She stood in the living room, sitting her backpack on the couch as she scanned the space. The entire room felt serene, designed in shades of taupe and teal that made the space feel extremely homey for a hotel. Her hand rubbed the soft velvet fabric of the couch as she glanced around, her eyes landing on the French doors that led to her terrace. 

“Ah the best part, in my opinion,” he smiled as he watched her take a step toward the terrace. He walked over to the double doors that led to the wraparound terrace and pushed them open. 

Raven followed him outside, her eyes landing on the Eiffel Tower in the distance. She was shocked at how close it was, just over the river. 

“A perfect view of our crown jewel. Mr. Jordan’s suite and this one have my favorite views in the hotel. Some would argue that Bonaparte’s apartment has the best view but I must disagree.”

“That is spectacular,” she muttered as she leaned against the concrete railing. Paris had always been on her bucket list, one of those cities and destinations that everyone went to and raved about. She wondered if it would live up to the hype and it was already exceeding it. 

“Would you like us to set up breakfast out here for you in the morning? 9 a.m.?”

“Yes, please.” 

“Excellent. I will leave you to rest.” A knock at the door interrupted him. “Oh there are your bags. Please call down to the concierge if you would like the car brought around for you or if you need anything else. Mr. Jordan asked me to give you this,” he handed her a card from his pocket. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us and your time in Paris.”

He opened the door and helped the men place her two suitcases into the bedroom before giving her a nod and closing the door behind him. She had likely gone overboard packing but she wanted options. 

Raven stared at the door for a few moments before turning to get a 360 view of the suite. She tapped the card on her palm as she walked to the bedroom. She kicked off her sneakers and promptly flopped down onto the bed with a content giggle. 

“What the fuck is my life right now?” She whispered. 

She opened the envelope and smiled as she read his writing. 

Welcome to Paris. Kept me on my toes wondering if you were gonna come, not gonna lie. Figured you’d want the day to rest and I have press and events until late tonight. I set up treatments for you at the spa starting at 4 and got you a day pass so you can relax by the pool there. Enjoy the night and I’ll come by when I get back if you’re still awake.

Michael

Raven let out the most childish squeal of her life before letting her arm fall onto the bed. She had made an agreement with herself on the plane that she was going to indulge in all the luxuries Michael offered and she could afford to. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and, she knew, the only one she would get with Michael before they broke up. She was determined to enjoy every second of it. And she appreciated that he seemed to know a day of pampering was exactly what she needed. 

She glanced around, realizing she still had almost six hours until her spa treatments. She quickly grabbed another athleisure set from her bag and hopped in the shower. After a quick but still luxurious shower, she felt slightly more awake and refreshed and slid back on her shoes to go on a walk. She grabbed her wallet and AirPods before heading to the lobby. 

“Mademoiselle, would you like me to have the car brought around?” The concierge asked as she walked through the lobby. 

However, she quickly shook her head. “No, I think I’ll just walk. Thanks!” 

She would certainly get plenty of use out of the car while she was there but today, she just wanted to roam. She wanted to see the shops and people watch and just enjoy being in a new city. She put in her headphones and slid on her sunglasses before venturing down a random side street. Naturally, her feet gravitated toward the Eiffel Tower. She spent over two hours roaming the expansive parks surrounding it, getting a million pictures of the tower and selfies by the river. She knew she was giving strong tourist vibes but she could not hope to care.

She stopped for lunch at this small sandwich shop and bought a crepe from a street vendor for her walk back. By the time she returned, it was almost time for her spa evening. Not only was she thankful for the manicure, pedicure, facial, and massage, she was grateful Michael once again arranged everything for her. She was far too tired to use her brain for anything useful. She knew she was beyond exhausted when she laid down on the massage table and was asleep before the man even truly started. She only remembered him touching her shoulders before he had to wake her up and tell her the two hours were done. But every muscle in her body felt 10x more relaxed than when she first laid down so she knew it had been a success. 

She almost forewent dinner but was able to stay awake long enough to order and wait for room service. However, as soon as she finished eating, she settled into the couch and dozed off. She did not take the extra steps to get in the bed or put her phone on sleep mode because she did not want to miss Michael knocking on her door when he was back. Though she knew he would happily wait until tomorrow to see her just so he did not wake her up, she did not want that. She wanted to see him… tonight. 

And she was not disappointed when a loud knock jolted her out of her sleep. She quickly jumped up and wiped her mouth, feeling a bit of drool from her deep sleep. 

“Gross,” she muttered as her body protested getting up. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, which she had gotten blown out and pressed before the trip, knowing she had messed it up slightly by forgetting to wrap it before falling asleep. She almost tripped over her backpack to get to the door and swing it open. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi,” she offered with a smile, attempting to hide some of the excitement she felt at seeing him. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you… know it’s late.” 

She stepped aside so he could enter. “Don’t worry about it. You invited me, seems like I could stay awake long enough to say hi. This suite is insane. You could’ve just put me up in a regular room in a hotel that doesn’t cost thousands a night, you know?” 

She gave him a quick once over as he walked into the suite and perched on the arm of the couch. He was in a gorgeous red suit, perfectly tailored to his form as if it was his own skin. He looked sexy as fuck. But she could tell he was just as, if not more, exhausted than her. His usual perfect posture lacked a bit, his shoulders hunched over as if he could not hold them up any longer. His lips were tugged down in a frown and his nose was scrunched up a bit, which he typically only did when something was wrong. 

He merely shrugged and winked at her. “Maybe a regular nigga woulda done that. But that ain’t me. Have a good flight and everythin’?” 

She yawned. “Yea, didn’t sleep much but first class was…” she did the motion to say chef’s kiss causing Michael to grin brightly. 

It had only been a week but he missed her. Getting to see her this week had been the light at the end of this hellish tunnel of a press tour. He loved his job, he was living his dream and he was beyond blessed to do so. But the grind was exhausting. He had been working nonstop for almost a decade, between projects and press tours, he went and never stopped. Perhaps because he was on the most important run of his career, the pressure, the exhaustion, the weight of it all felt like tons on his back this time around. But with Raven here, he would have a reprieve, however brief each day. He could be whoever he needed to be with her and that was the rest he did not know he needed until he stood in her presence. 

“Walked around for a couple hours. Got a crepe just on the side of the road… which I’m gonna gain like 100 pounds this week between that and the pastries. The spa treatments were amazing… well, at least the ones I was awake for,” they both laughed. “Thank you for this. Seriously. Haven’t had a vacation in a while..”

“Good, I’m glad. And I know, that’s why I invited you. Glad you’re here. Oh I wanted to give you this,” he pulled out his wallet and slid out his Black card and put it in her hand. 

The mere weight of the card in her hand let her know the limit on it did not exist. 

She held it up between two of her fingers. “What’s this for?” 

“A couple things. I got a photoshoot tomorrow. Got one surprise for you in the morning but then it’s all you until the late afternoon. Then I got reservations for us for dinner. Whatever you wanna do, charge it to that card. Day after, my stylist is gonna take you shopping. All his favorite shops, they’ll pull pieces. He is instructed to ensure you buy anything you like. Don’t argue. In fact…” He glanced around for a moment and eyed her wallet on the dining table before grabbing it. 

“Hey!” She rushed forward and started grabbing at it but he held it over his head, knowing she was too short to take it from him. He held it up and rifled inside it, finding every card that could be used as currency and the cash she brought to convert. He held those in a tight grip in his fist while putting his card in it and handing her the striped wallet that now only had his card and her ID. “Give those backkk.” 

“Not a chance. I invited you so I’m payin’ for everything. The only card you touch till you land back in LA is that one. And you’ll get these back when we get home. Understood?” 

“I can’t accept that! I will happily pay for whatever I want to do when we aren’t together.” 

“You can and will accept it. I order you to,” his hand grabbed her chin to force her eyes to his. 

“I’m not on my knees… who says you can give orders right now?” She smirked at the way his eyes seemed to light up at her sass, her bratty attitude. 

He chuckled. “I see someone already forgot they have a punishment waitin’ huh? You wanna add to it?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she offered with a innocent smile. 

Michael tucked that away for later. Once she got over that little jet lag, he was going to tear that ass up. 

“Besides, the stores he’s takin’ you to… well, they ain’t all just for you. There’s one store where he’ll wait outside. A lingerie boutique. The staff is under specific instructions not to let you leave without, at least, one set for every night of the week. Figured I should get somethin’ out of this shopping spree.” 

Raven’s lips turned into a playful grin. “Well that does only seem fair, I suppose. Any special requests for that particular store?” 

“One set needs to be black and gold. Otherwise, it’s all you.” 

She raised an eyebrow as she realized why he wanted her in black and gold. Visions of Erik Killmonger immediately flooded her mind and a couple of visions that she knew she could never breathe out loud. Her mental break must have been obvious because Michael waved his hand to get her attention. 

“What was that?” 

“Oh nothing, nothing,” she immediately lied and cleared her throat. 

“Nahh, none of that. Tell me or I’ll double your punishment.” 

Raven wondered if she should see how far she could take it. However, she quickly remembered that he never said exactly what the punishment was going to be so she could be playing with fire. 

“I just… maybe thought about how it’s a shame you couldn’t keep your suit… from the movie,” her eyes got quiet with embarrassment. 

Michael let out a barking laugh that made her cover her face with her hands in embarrassment. 

“Baby girl, if you wanna role play, just say so.” 

She shrugged. “Eh without the hair,” she gestured up at his freshly cut fade. “It’s not the same.” 

“Really, it’s the hair?” he asked. 

She shrugged. “I mean no, it’s 100% the abs and your face. Like no one’s getting wet just cause of the hair,” she chuckled. “But the hair is the difference between you fuckin’ me as you and you sellin’ the fantasy that Erik is fuckin’ me. Otherwise it’ll just be you with a deeper voice and ruder tone,” she waved her hand dismissively. “But just… remember me for Black Panther 3 when you gotta grow the hair out again. Won’t even charge you for that date, promise.”  

He bit down the retort that he could never forget her. 

“Deal.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Um. Friday through Sunday is all us. Do some research, let me know if there’s anything you wanna do. Figured we could hit all the big tourist things and shit. But it’s up to you. Never asked you - you been here before?” 

Raven shook her head. “Nah, went to Amsterdam after I got my MFA to celebrate but my passport hasn’t seen much love since,” she admitted. 

“MFA?”

“Masters in Fine Arts. That’s when I wrote my manuscript for my book.”

“Learn somethin’ new about you every day.”  

“I’ll do some googling, talk to my driver and see what he thinks we should do.” 

“Aight. Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna let you go to bed.” He stood up again and started to walk toward the door. 

Though she desperately needed sleep, she could not help the way her face fell at the idea of him leaving. “We aren’t gonna…” 

The disappointment on her face, those perfect puppy eyes she gave him, likely with no conscious thought on her end, made him want to amend his statement. This girl? She would be the end of him but a glorious end indeed. However, he knew he shouldn’t and that she deserved a night to actually get sleep this week. 

“Oh I plan on fuckin’ you on every surface in this room and mine for the next week. Don’t worry. But not tryin’ to have you fall asleep on me. Take tonight, get situated and get over the jet lag.” 

“Understood.” 

He leaned on the door handle for a moment before turning to her. “Don’t fall asleep on the couch again,” he warned. “Get in bed… bad for your back. And you’re gonna need all your limbs workin’at their best this week. See you tomorrow.” 

She merely giggled as he opened her door and left. However, before the door slammed shut, she ran forward and stuck her head in the hall searching for him. 

“Hey!” She called after him, causing him to turn around at the end of the hallway. “Thank you again… for all of this.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He threw her his boyish grin before disappearing into the elevator. 

***

“A bit early for a summons, don’t you think?” Raven moaned playfully as she walked out onto Michael’s terrace. The sun sat high in the sky, a slight breeze making the late fall morning a bit frigid. 

He merely laughed and gestured toward the empty seat across from him, the table outside heavy laden with breakfast foods. 

“Have a late start today, figured we could eat breakfast. How’d you sleep? Feelin’ alright?” She could hear the cockiness in his voice. 

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Like a baby… never felt better. Thanks for asking.”

While that was not necessarily true, she would not let him know that. He had done a number on her last night in all the best ways. Even as she sat there smiling at him innocently, she had to avoid shifting uncomfortably to ease the discomfort of her sore ass. Her punishment had been long and severe, her body draped over his lap as he spanked her 50 times. He had dragged it out, the spankings split up by his finger teasing her entrance but never letting her cum. That is until she was in a pool of tears with a bruised ass begging for mercy. After that, he let her cum more times than she could remember or count. It was the first time he left her with actual bruises but she did not mind, it was a punishment she would endure over and over again for those results. 

“Good to know for next time. I was goin’ easy on you. Besides, you were such a good girl last night, I have a treat for you.” 

Raven’s eyes twinkled. “The shopping spree I’m about to go on isn’t the treat?” His stylist, Brian, had sent her a list of all the stores they were going to today and Raven could not wait. She was not one to care much for labels, after all there were more important things. However, it was clear that she had free reign to shop until her heart dropped. Such a rare opportunity she knew she could not waste. 

“Nope. This one… well I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

Raven smiled as she took a sip from her cup of hot chocolate. Michael handed her a plate, piled high with fruit and pastries, which she devoured as they sat in silence. 

“How was the library yesterday?” Michael asked as he continued eating. 

Thus far, her experience had been something straight out of a novel. She could not have written a more perfect fairytale herself. She had woken up yesterday to a similar spread on her own terrace, complete with a mimosa. She listened to R&B music as she sat out there in her nightgown for over an hour. The only thing that broke her out of the peace trance was a call from the concierge letting her know her car would be ready at 11 for a surprise. 

She tried her hardest to guess what the surprise could be or coax it out of her driver but there was too much to see and do to pinpoint what Michael had set up. She had started a list of things she wanted to see when he finally had time off but she had fallen asleep with her phone in her hand. 

She still was not sure why he was going to such lengths for her. The cost of her hotel alone was more than most people made in a year. She knew the price, to him, was comparable to putting her up in a four star hotel for a regular man. However, she still struggled with accepting such extravagance, and could not stop the intrusive thoughts that questioned whether she was worth so much money and effort. After all, they were going to break up in a few months. She tried not to allow that to disappoint her every time her brain reminded her heart of that simple fact. That was what she signed up for: a relationship with a firm expiration date. Her brain knew that. Her heart though? It did not care about the practicalities of what she signed up for. It only cared for how he made her feel: wanted, appreciated, cared for. 

And that was rare air. 

Still, she could not help but wonder why he even invited her there in the first place. He mentioned no events he needed her to attend with him, no public appearances in which he needed a woman on his arm. Yesterday and today, she was on her own. He had essentially paid an exorbitant amount to give her a vacation for a week. She was itching to get to the later half of the week when they would actually be able to spend time together. When it was just the two of them, Michael became the singular space in this world where no one wanted anything from her. She could just be. Sometimes she had everything to give and sometimes, like her birthday, she had nothing. And he seemed to accept either without judgment or question. And she needed that. 

Yesterday, his surprise was a guided tour of the oldest public library in Paris, Le Bibliothèque Mazarine. Raven had a ball as she took in the insanely beautiful architecture and special collections the curator showed her. She simultaneously loved and despised him for it, for his thoughtfulness and how in tune he was with her. 

“It was gorgeous… the architecture?? God, there are so many gorgeous libraries in the world. This was certainly one of them. Can’t wait till I can afford a house and build out a giant library in the basement,” she mused. “That’s the dream.” 

Michael silently put that knowledge away for later. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Figured, you know, given your day job, it might be cool.” 

“It was. And it’s not just… my day job. I’ve always loved libraries. You know I used to spend hours at the library down the street from us? Holed up in a corner with a stack of books or my homework. Knew every person who worked there by name. They’d have to kick me out at closing,” she chuckled as she wiped the flakes of her chocolate croissant from her lips. “I had a favorite corner, by this window that overlooked the park across the street. You could hear the kids playing. If I wasn’t at school or at home, I was in that spot.” 

“No one ever cared that you weren’t home?” 

She scoffed, holding her mug tightly in her hands as she cozied up in her chair, one leg coming to her chest. Michael loved how relaxed she looked. She had not gotten fully ready for the day yet, no make up, her hair in a high ponytail. She was dressed in a casual dress with a slouchy oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. Her back was to the Eiffel Tower and somehow one of the most beautiful structures in the world was still eclipsed by her natural beauty. He could not take his eyes off her. 

“After my grandmother passed? Nope. And by high school, I preferred to just be out of the house anyway. Everyone just pretended like I wasn’t there so it hurt less… to just not be there. Spent time at friends’ houses or at the library or I was at school but that was really it. But it was good. When all you do is read and study, you tend to do well in school.” 

“No parties? No fun?” Michael asked, part of him not believing she engaged in nothing fun or reckless as a kid.. 

She laughed. “No, not really. I don’t think I even drank until I was in college. I was so boring back then, which is why my first career choice… well anyone who knew me would’ve thought it was an odd one.”

“Why’d you pick stripping? Plenty of ways to make money.” 

“Needed something I could do at night, after classes and my work study job. Doesn’t require past experience and the owner liked that I looked young, had the whole innocent girl doe-eyed thing going for me. I picked up on the dancing and tricks pretty quickly too. It was fun… in its own way.”

“Who taught you your moves?” 

“Monique… best dancer I ever saw. Taught me every trick in the book. She had been dancing for like 5 years when I started. Took me under her wing, I guess.” 

“Really? That’s a long time.” 

Raven shrugged, leaning on the table as she reminisced on a time that felt like eons ago. “Everyone does it for a different reason. Some don’t have much of a choice, some are working their way through something else, like I did. And some girls really liked it. Monique was a girl who really liked it. And it showed. She was saving up to open her own burlesque club, which I think she did a couple years ago.” 

“Did you like it?” 

She stared off into space for a moment before answering. “I guess it was nice to be the center of attention… the spotlight for once. I was a wallflower 20 hours a day but during my shift, I was more. Men wanted me, some of the girls wanted to be me. I didn’t hate it. I don’t miss it… but I miss who I was on that stage. The confidence, the power… it was something. Could never quite get it to translate to regular life though. Certainly couldn’t get it to translate to being a working girl,” she grimaced. “It’s just not the same though.” 

“And you never felt exploited by it? Or scared?” 

She shook her head. “Not any more than cat calling on the street makes me feel scared. First thing Monique told me when I met her - Sex is power, one of the few powers that women inherently have that men don’t. Always has been and always will be. And it's the one power that, try as they might, they can’t take away. Everyone sees it and their place in it differently. But I always remembered that they were there to see me, spend money on me. And whether they had a good night or not, whether they went home satisfied and happy, that was all my decision. And I liked that.” He liked the sparkle in her eyes as she talked about that time. “I dunno if stripping is proper breakfast conversation.” 

“It ain’t but I like it anyway. One last question… tell me your name?” At her confused expression, he clarified. “The one you used at the club.” 

“Give me my treat and I’ll tell you.” 

Michael gestured for her to stand up. “Come here.” 

She walked over to him and stood between his legs. His hands took free reign, running up her toned legs beneath her dress, tightly gripping her ass, which made her hiss in pain.

“I thought you never felt better?” 

“Shut up,” she mumbled with a small huff. 

He shifted a few of the dishes out of the way before pulling her sweatshirt and dress off, leaving her in nothing but her panties. He pushed her gently, a silent but clear instruction to lay down. 

She glanced behind her at the pastries and food. “Someone’s gonna have to clean all this up if they fall.” 

“Guess you’ll have to be careful then.” At her continued hesitation, he smiled. “I’ll leave a bigger tip for the staff, aight? Now lay tf down.” 

At his command and assurance that the staff would be compensated for their games, she gently laid back, cringing as she heard one plate crash down onto the stone floor as Michael pulled off her panties. He draped her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward in his seat, his face eye level with her prize. 

“W-what are you doing?” She asked quietly, the anticipation getting to her as he merely stared at her. She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.  

“About to finish breakfast,” he muttered as if it was obvious. “This is better than anything else on this table.” 

And with that, he slid a finger inside her, Raven’s back immediately arching off the table. She bit down on her lip hard to stop a moan from escaping her as he wrapped his lips around her clit. He glanced up at her and stopped. 

“I wanna hear you. And I want everyone in this hotel to hear you.” 

And with that, he devoured her. Michael loved any chance he got to taste her and find himself nestled between her thighs with her pleasure completely at his mercy. However, today was particularly special. This was the most relaxed he had ever seen her, the most at peace she had been since he met her. And it did not hurt that the backdrop for his favorite meal was the best view of his favorite city. 

One hand kept her firmly in place as she writhed on the table while the other, in sync with his tongue, did nothing short of the Lord’s work. 

Her hips rolled to meet every thrust of his fingers. 

“You like that, baby girl?” He moaned as he slid another finger inside her, both of them curling into her g-spot at a quick speed.

“F-Fuck! Yes, yes! I l-love it!” She cried out loudly, knowing her voice most certainly would carry to their neighbors. But with the promise of an orgasm at the end of this, she could not hope to care. 

Michael certainly had pushed her limitations farther than she would have expected since they started “dating.” Everything he tried, she loved. Every limit he pressed against, she yielded and every time? It exceeded her wildest dreams and fantasies. Public sex was one of those lines she always wanted to cross but knew it was too wild to do so. And yet, Michael seemed to know all her fantasies, even the ones she felt were too wild and wicked to speak out loud. 

Michael reached over and grabbed a piece of ice from the ice bucket that held a bottle of champagne. He could tell she was so consumed by his fingers that she did not even notice. But she would. 

He put the ice in his mouth while he continued to fuck her, sucking on it for a few moments before diving back in. The moment his cold lips and tongue touched her sensitive bud, she came. Fast and hard as if someone had pushed her off a cliff without warning. She could not control the loud slew of expletives that escaped her lips as he sucked, the cold temperature sending shivers of pleasure through her whole body. 

“That’s it. Scream for daddy,” he muttered as he talked her through her orgasm. However, he was far from done and far from letting her tap out as he put another cube in his mouth and pressed it directly against her clit. 

“I-It’s too m-much!” She clamped her legs around his head, her entire body nearly seizing up from the pressure and pleasure the cold provided. She tried to shy away from it, moving hastily, causing another dish to crash around them. But his firm palm on her stomach stopped her from getting away. 

“Nah, you said you were better than ever. You can take this shit. Open your fuckin’ eyes.”

She forced her eyes open as tears spilled out, “M-Michael… I-I’m g-gonna cu-cum…” 

“Let ‘em hear you. Whose pussy is this?” He demanded, lifting his head as he added another finger and hammered into her. “Look at me!” He ordered, towering over her body with such dominance that, even without him touching her, she could’ve cum on the spot. 

She locked eyes with him as he added another finger, four in total and pressed roughly into her spot. She could see her juices glistening in the sun on the hairs of his beard. She hoped he would give her a taste, she loved it when he had her to taste herself.  

“It’s yours!” She cried out loudly, louder than she would’ve liked, as she came all over his hand again. 

“That’s right. Good girl,” he talked her through her orgasm before pulling out of her. 

He held his fingers up to her face, all four completely covered in her juices. “Suck.” 

She opened her mouth immediately and propped herself up, sucking with earnestness as she enjoyed the taste of herself. 

“You like the way you taste, baby?” He asked, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth on his fingers. 

She merely hummed her response and showed him how much by continuing to suck on his fingers. When she was satisfied she cleaned them to the best of her ability, she released them with a pop and a smile that made Michael want to fall to his knees and start over again. 

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered before leaning over and kissing her softly. 

She let out a sharp exhale before collapsing back against the table with a chuckle. 

“That was… fucking amazing,” she muttered as she laid there, completely naked, contemplating the meaning of life. “You wanna do that every morning this week?” 

“Sounds like a good ass time to me.” She started to move off the table when a strong hand gripped her thigh, halting her movements. “I didn’t tell your ass to move. Lay there till I’m done.” He picked back up his coffee mug and his phone before grabbing his previously discarded plate. 

She wanted to protest but instead she merely laid back down as instructed. From that moment until the end of his breakfast, he treated her like a mere centerpiece of the table. Something to gaze upon and fondle but nothing more. He disappeared into his bedroom once, returning a few moments later. He said nothing and offered her no explanation as he held out nipple clamps, both connected with a chain. He worked in silence as he put both of them on her erect buds before settling down to resume his coffee. Her eyes twisted up for a moment at the sharp pain before it settled down to a dull ache. With the clamps, everything felt 10 times more sensitive, even the cool breeze made her want to touch her aching boobs. But she had been scolded once already for moving so she merely laid there.

Her eyes followed his frame as he sauntered around the terrace with his coffee cup, lazily refilling it as he scrolled on his phone. His joggers sat low on his hips, showcasing that perfect V that led to one of her favorite parts of him. She licked her lips, wishing he had allowed her to taste him as he had her. Lust curled in her belly as she watched his muscles flex as he moved around. Here she was, laying on a table in the middle of Paris like a human flower arrangement, and all she could think about was how sexy he was. A God among men. 

Every so often, he would return to her and tug on the chain connecting the clamps, sending jolts of pleasurable pain right to her core. And after, he’d give her a bite of whatever pastry he was continuing to eat. She appreciated him remembering that the rest of her breakfast had been a sacrificial lamb to their activities. 

This continued until his manager called him. Michael reminded her that good girls keep quiet before he answered, putting the phone on speaker to incentivize her. She had to stifle a laugh as she heard him say he was just “enjoying a lazy morning on the terrace” before heading to an event. She listened as they talked about the film and numbers and his schedule, while he trailed pieces of ice around her nipples and under her breasts and down the soft panes of her stomach. That made her eyes roll back into her head. 

She loved nipple play. She had heard of women orgasming from that alone but she had never experienced it herself. However, as Michael talked about business, he seemed determined to get her there with that alone. The clamps increased the pleasure of every touch as he fondled her.

She thought she would draw blood as she bit down on her lip to stop the moans from escaping her as he played, contrasting the warmth of his mouth with the coldness of the ice when he had to talk. 

“Yea once we settle all this shit with the Coach deal, we’ll be set,” Alex remarked as Michael sat the phone down on Raven’s stomach so he could give each of her boobs the attention they deserved. When he bit down on the swell of her breast, she let out a groan that she prayed was barely audible. It reached his ears, she knew, but the oblivious woman on the other end did not even skip a beat. “How’s Raven enjoying Paris?” 

Michael threw her a smirk and pressed a finger to his lip as he continued doing what he was doing, Raven trying her hardest to quiet the pants of pleasure that wanted to escape. 

“Oh I think she’s enjoyin’ it just fine.” 

“I’m glad. Post something of the two of you while you’re there. Doesn’t have to be much but let’s make sure we’re getting something out of these extra four days you’re spending there instead of continuing to promote your movie.” 

Despite the fog of pleasure, Alex’s words stuck out to Raven, settling into her brain. She did not have the capacity to contemplate them too hard right then but she tucked them away for later. 

“Yes ma’am. I’ll make sure we all get somethin’ out of it. Anything else for me?” he assured her as he pulled the clamps off roughly, causing Raven to clamp her hand over her mouth to muffle the scream as the blood rushed back to her breasts. To top it off, he clamped his mouth around one of them while his fingers pinched the other, causing her whole body to convulse with her third orgasm of the day. And it was not even 10 am yet. 

“Nope, that is it. Have fun today and don’t forget to get something for your favorite manager while you’re there,” Alex continued. 

Raven felt her entire vision go white as she focused all of her attention on muffling the screams of pain and pleasure that were boiling over.

“Sounds good. Listen, I gotta go. Someone here needs my attention. Let’s talk tonight.”  

He signed off quickly, pulling Raven’s hands from her mouth so he could hear the sounds of her pleasure, which were music to his ears. He gave her a few moments to calm down before he leaned over and kissed her. 

“Now you can get up and finish your breakfast. Take your time.” 

“You’re… a menace. I hope you… know that,” she whispered, her hand pressing into her chest as she tried to calm herself down. “It’s not even lunchtime and you’re trying to kill me.” 

“Let’s not pretend like that wouldn’t be a better way to go.” He winked at her before pulling on her arm to help her sit up and disappearing inside to change into his own clothes. 

Raven took a deep breath, her hand massaging one of her aching breasts as she sat there for a moment. She finally forced herself off the table, her legs almost giving out beneath her before she collapsed into his chair. She grabbed a few pieces of fruit and a danish as she sat there, contemplating how he continued to manage to surprise her. 

. 

She took a moment and gathered her thoughts before she slid her clothes back on just as Michael emerged back onto the terraces in a burnt orange sweater and slacks. 

“You good? Enjoyed your treat?” 

“Yea… yea I did. Can’t tell if it was more for you or me though.” 

“First part was for you, second was for me. Now you’re relaxed and can go spend all my money. Brian’ll be waiting for you downstairs in an hour. Don’t forget… black and gold.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” She winked at him before walking past him to head back to her suite. 

***

Raven could not believe how quickly the week seemed to pass her by. She could not help but be sad that it was already almost over. Their flight home was tomorrow and despite having a week there, it did not feel like enough. She had enjoyed every single second of it, particularly the last three days with Michael. They spent those days hitting everything they could think of, the major tourist attractions and some off the beaten path. 

Michael had clearly forgone his diet for this particular trip and the pair ate any and everything that looked remotely good, particularly anything with carbs. She savored this long stretch of uninterrupted time the pair had together. At home, they just saw each other for dates and talked on the phone at night. But the last three days, they were together from breakfast until the moment he finished and she slid out of his bed to return to her own. It made her sad to leave in the middle of the night, to end their private time together, but she knew she had to. They took tons of pictures, the least curated ones they had ever taken. Neither of them cared to pretend these were for the masses and tabloids when they were just for them, their opportunity to capture those moments together. 

By the time they returned to the hotel Sunday afternoon, Raven could not hide her melancholy attitude about having to leave. 

“You good?” Michael asked as he escorted her back to her suite.

“Yea, yea,” she smiled sadly. “Just sad to be leaving. Not gonna get another experience like this for a long while,” she shrugged. “But once-in-a-lifetime experiences aren’t called that for nothing, I guess.” She leaned on the door frame of her suite. 

“Well… surprises ain’t over yet. Couple things waiting for you in there. Get some rest, make up and hair will be here at 7. Be dressed and downstairs at 8.” 

“That’s all you’re gonna give me??” 

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I gave you anythin’ else. See you at 8.” And with that, he turned to head back to his own suite. 

Raven quickly entered her own room, racing to the bedroom to find the black and gold lingerie set she bought laying out on the bed. Next to it lay a jewelry box set and hanging on her closet door was black dress that was fit for someone heading to a ball. She opened the box to find diamond earrings and a diamond choker necklace waiting for her. 

“God I love him,” she whispered to herself as she took everything in. And she did, she loved him. She could never say it or admit it to anyone but God and herself but she did. And it was not the material things, it was his thoughtfulness… that he would even think to arrange something like this for them. That’s what she loved. And that is what she would miss when it was all said and done. 

Raven did not get any rest as Michael instructed. She merely laid in bed, scrolling on tik tok and counting down the minutes until she could get dressed. Around 6:30, she got up and got in the shower, taking her time before Michael’s team arrived. 

They worked quickly but efficiently and had her dressed and ready to go by 7:50. She spent five minutes just staring at herself in the mirror. She spun around a couple of times, examining the dramatic dress Michael had chosen for her. It was unlike anything she would have gravitated toward herself but she loved it. It was a showstopping, head turning dress. She always felt like a million bucks when she and Michael went out. But tonight? Tonight, she felt like billions. 

Brian took a couple photos of her on the terrace since the sun was setting before she left her room to meet Michael. As promised, he was waiting in the foyer for her in a black tux. It was simple but he looked gorgeous. And as she got closer, she realized the detailing on his jacket matched that of the bodice of her dress. 

She stretched her arms out as if to ask what he thought, the actor completely silent as he took her in. 

Raven bit her painted lip, fear gripping her as she mistook his silence for displeasure. “D-do you not like it?” However, before he could give her an answer, she answered for him. “It’s not what you wanted is it? Fuck. I’m sorry… I t-thought the dress was a little tight but Brian assured me it wasn’t and I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those damn pastries and crepes this week. But I’m a slave to a crepe,” she moaned pitifully. “Not an ounce of self control. And I didn’t have good enough spanx for this type of dress. I s-should’ve known it didn’t look right. You got me this beautiful dress and I probably look like a fucking whale o-or a busted can of biscuits or something horrible. I’m sorry, I can go change?” she offered, already turning away from him to race upstairs and hide under the covers. 

However, before she made it more than two steps, a force grabbed her and pulled her back. She quickly found herself in his arms, Michael holding her flush to his chest. He kissed her deeply, silencing any more rants, concerns, or criticisms that could have fallen from her lips. He did not want to hear any of them. He pulled back to look at her, his finger on her chin to keep her eyes on his. 

“You gotta let me answer before you start spiraling, baby girl. You are exactly what I wanted and exceeded my expectations. I was speechless because I didn’t think I had the right words to describe how fuckin’ gorgeous you look.” 

“Really?” she asked quietly. 

“Really. One thing I’d never do is lie to you, hope you know that by now. You ready?” 

She nodded and allowed him to lead her out of the hotel and into their limo. They spent most of the car ride recapping the last three days and their favorite parts of the trip. 

Soon they pulled up to a restaurant and Michael led her into the elevator. It went straight up to a rooftop, one that overlooked the entire city. Paris was beautiful any time of day but night time eclipsed all the others in her opinion. 

“Bonjour Mr. Jordan,” a waiter approached them as they stepped off of the elevator. 

He led them to their table, which offered a perfect view of the city. There was a dance floor in the middle of the roof and a small stage that held a string quartet that was softly playing music. The railings were covered in string lights. 

“This place is amazing… how is it so empty?” Raven muttered to Michael as he held out her chair for her to sit. 

“Bought it out just for us.” 

Raven shook her head in disbelief. “No way…” At his completely serious face, she gasped. “Wait, you’re serious? How much did that cost??” 

“Didn’t matter. Wanted to come here and have the place and that view to ourselves.” 

Raven laughed. “That’s wild. Not mad at it though. This view probably makes it worth every penny.” Raven let out a content sigh as she stared off into the depths of Paris, not realizing that the city was not the view Michael was admiring as he muttered. 

“Yea, it does.” 

They settled into content silence as the waiter brought them a bottle of wine and let them know they would be enjoying the chef’s signature tasting menu. Slowly, course after course made its way to them as they talked and enjoyed the evening. By the time they reached dessert, Raven felt as if she was floating on a cloud that she never wanted to come down from. 

The familiar refrain from the string quartet filled her ears. “Oh I love this song,” she muttered more to herself than the man across from her. 

“You recognize it?” 

She nodded. “La Vie en Rose… I know the Louis Armstrong version but pretty sure he covered it in English from a French artist.” 

“Don’t know if I’ve heard that one before. My French is trash,” he chuckled. “What does that phrase mean?”  

“Means to see the world in pink, you know with rose colored glasses essentially. It’s a beautiful song, the lyrics are so romantic.” She paused. “Hold me close and hold me fast. This magic spell you cast… this is la vie en rose. When you kiss me, heaven sighs and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose. When you press me to your heart, I’m in a world apart… a world where roses bloom. And when you speak, angels sing from above… everyday words seem to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be la vie en rose.” 

The two merely stared at each other as the words settled into the space between them. Raven felt every word of that song with him. But every time she wanted to sink into that feeling, melt into him, her brain stopped her. She merely cleared her throat and chuckled, breaking the trance both of them were in. 

“Don’t ask me to sing it though,” she joked. “I’m dreadful.” She took a long, awkward sip of her wine before Michael stood up and held out his hand. 

“Dance with me.” Since it was only them in the restaurant, the dance floor was wide open and available. 

She glanced at the string quartet as the song transitioned to XO by Beyonce. She hesitated for a moment before sliding her hand into his. He pulled her to the center of the dance floor, their bodies flushed against each other. 

The entire night had been perfect, filled with romance and magic Raven never thought she would have herself. She knew it was for show but she could not deny that there was an intimacy to it that felt… real. Felt like they were truly connecting with each other at a deeper level. When he looked at her, sometimes, she swore she saw it. A twinkle of something too deep… too paralyzing to be mere friendship. But every time, she felt like she imagined it. Maybe even hoped she imagined it because that would be easier. She knew it would not be her but as she looked at him, she could not help but think he enjoyed this. The romance, going above and beyond to show someone you love them. And now he just needed someone, a real someone, to do it with.

She stared at him for a few moments as they swayed in each other’s arms. “Tell me about her.” 

Michael did not need her to elaborate on who she meant. Michael shook his head. He had the perfect woman in his arms, there was not a single woman in his past worth talking about right then.

“Why does she matter?” 

Raven shrugged. “Because she’s gone and you’re still shutting yourself off from things I think… you’re too afraid to admit you really want. You want this,” she gestured between them. “Not with me, obviously,” she chuckled. “But this, this connection with someone who you love and loves you back. Does she really still have so much power that she can take this away from you forever?” 

Michael wished he could grab her shoulders and shake her. So beautiful and so smart yet so oblivious to the hints he was throwing out left and right. He did want those things but not with anyone but her. He had hoped the last week would paint the picture for her. He knew he should just come out and say it himself but he was not brave enough… not yet anyway to admit that he was head over heels for someone again. Because Raven did have that much power. She controlled his heart and very being. And if he said those words to her and she rejected him or broke his heart? She would be the last woman he ever said them to again. 

“Not that interestin’ of a story to be honest. But she was… an actor too. Not super well known but you know, steady workin’ and everythin’. Met on the set of a show I was workin’ on. We hit it of.. She was the first woman to really understand me? Understood my dreams and my ambition. I understood hers, I had been in the industry longer so I helped her out, making connections and all that. We dated for almost three years. First relationship that I saw a real future in, even bought a ring.” He sighed as he glanced down at Raven, their bodies swaying to the music. “But all she cared about was using me to get to the next thing. Saw a text on her phone one night, she was cheating on me with another nigga. Had been for most of the time we were together. Left me for someone with more money, bigger name. We broke up and she acted like it was nothin’... as if three years of living life together hadn’t mattered at all. Felt stupid for not seein’ it, for thinkin’ there was a future there… but also for believin’ she loved me for me. Went on a binge afterward… lots of partyin’, drinkin’, fuckin’ every woman I could see. Decided that if that was all everyone was gonna see or care about, the money and all that… then that’s all I would give.” 

“I’m sorry. No one deserves that. She’s dumb. Too stupid to realize what she had.” She paused. “You can’t give up though… gotta keep trying to find the right girl. Keep reaching out your hand until it happens.”  

“Not all of us have your annoyingly relentless hope and optimism. More worried about my hand getting ripped off.” 

“It might,” she admitted. “But I dunno, I’ve always believed heartbreak is the price we pay for love. At the end of the day, we’re all standing on a giant cliff and when you take that leap with someone, you can’t see the bottom. You just hold hands and you jump and you experience the fall that is living life together until you crash into the water. Whether you’ll enjoy the fall, whether rocks or an oasis are waiting for you, whether your fall is long or short. We have no idea, which is why jumping is so scary. But the only thing that’s certain is the crash at the end because all of it ends. Whether you get the greatest love story that goes on until the end of your life or a tragedy that gets cut short because other shit gets in the way. All of it ends. That’s the price, the fall isn’t forever. But when it ends and that heartache comes, the hope is that you look back on it all and see the life you lived and that it was all worth it. And so you’re willing to pick yourself up, dry yourself off, and go back up to the cliff and do it all over again. If you’re avoiding the crash, you aren’t jumping and that means you aren’t living. And there’s a woman out there somewhere who pulled herself out of the water and 's willing and waiting for you to be ready to take the leap with her. Who knows you’re the person they want to free fall with and who will make it worth it.” She ran her hand over the material of his tuxedo jacket. “It’s a shame because while you’re avoiding the cliff altogether, people don’t get to see how amazing you are.” 

“You really are a writer,” he mused, causing her eyes to crinkle at the corners and her whole body glow. “Only someone who writes love stories can think of some shit like that. But I hear you. I dunno though, most people can see how amazing my life is. I don’t think that’s the problem.” 

Raven scoffed and shook her head. “Your money, the things you can buy?” she gestured around them. “Those are the least interesting things about you,” she remarked flatly. “You’re funny. I would’ve never guessed you were as funny as you are. You’re thoughtful, you see through people, through the bullshit and facades and the walls. You see them, the one they hide from the rest of the world. You’re smart and engaging and so clearly care about every person in your life. Every woman I know wants that. Hell I want that,” she laughed, not noticing the joy that sparked in his eyes at those words. “And all of this is lovely and amazing but most of us can be happy without it. She told you that all you’re worth to people is money and clout and things. But the version of you I see right now is more than enough. And there’s someone out there who knows that too.” 

Her hand cupped his cheek as she spoke, Michael learning in and kissing her softly. She had kissed him many times but there was something different about this one, something that made her want to profess her love for him right then and there. 

She leaned back and studied him for a moment. “I hope… I hope when this ends, that we can still be friends? This was all really special. You made me feel like a real princess this week. Made me feel wanted and cared for in a way most people don’t. I was in… not the best of places when we met. Seeing a lot of darkness and no light at the end of the tunnel. But all of this, I dunno, reaffirms that annoyingly relentless hope and optimism. Things do turn around eventually. And this’ll all end but I’ll never forget the things you’ve done for me since we met.” 

He spun her around for a moment before bringing her close again. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered in her ear. “Just gave you the space to be you. You’re far from a wallflower or sidekick or however you described yourself to me on our first date. You’re powerful, smart, beautiful… promise me you’ll take this version of you, the real you… the main character version of you back to the real world tomorrow. You do that and I’ll work on takin’ your advice,” his hand played with the curls in her hair as he spoke. “And then… what’s that line from Casablanca? We’ll always have Paris.”  

“Seems like we both need to work on seeing ourselves how the other sees us.”

“Well we got plenty of time to work on it.” 

“Yea… guess we got a few more months before I gotta let you go.” She could not hide the sadness in her words. She was resigned, knew their fate but that did not make it hurt any less. 

His heart screamed at him to tell her she didn’t have to let him go. They didn’t have to end just because of some agreement they made under stress. They could try it out for real, love each other for real. But the words felt lodged in his throat. His fears, now top of mind since their conversation, were massive blockages that would not allow it out. He wanted her, it hurt how badly he wanted her. But that terrified him. 

They danced for a few more minutes before the song, which she recognized as All of Me by John Legend, came to an end. 

“Let’s go back to my suite. Got one more surprise.”

Though she did not want the romantic part of the evening to end, she could not deny she was looking forward to the other part of the night. Michael had kept true to his promise and fucked her on every surface in his suite and hers. Her favorite, though, had been that morning on the terrace. She’d never forget that. 

So she put up no argument when he led her back to their limo and whisked her away to the hotel. She hated the time in between the end of their date and the start of their more private moments. Time seemed to inch forward as slowly as possible, the anticipation always felt like torture. She was practically bouncing out of her skin when they finally made it to his suite. 

However, instead of opening the door, he stopped her.

“Close your eyes.” 

The game was starting early, she thought to herself, which signaled she was in for a long and wild night. The romantic Michael was about to disappear and the dominant one would stand in his place. She rolled her eyes and pouted like a brat before following his instructions. However, she could not let the moment pass without a warning. “If you lead me into a door, I’m gonna kill you.” 

“I don’t think French prisons are that nice so wouldn’t recommend that. Trust me, you know I’d never hurt you.” 

She snorted as he led her into his room, her feet taking extremely small tentative steps that made Michael chuckle to himself. After a few steps, he stopped her. 

“Ok open.” 

She blinked a couple times before gasping, her eyes taking in the chrome stripper pole in the middle of his living room. His couch had been pushed away and a singular armchair was in front of the pole like a throne in front of a stage. 

Michael walked into his bedroom and came back with a wad of cash. “Figured you could give me a private show? Besides you forgot to tell me your name the other morning.”  

Raven ran her thumb over the cash, fanning it out lightly. All she saw were hundreds. She stepped around him and walked over to the pole, her manicured nails tapping on the chrome as she strutted around it in her dress. The elegant gown now seemed out of place in a room with a stripper pole. But the lingerie number she had on underneath would fit in perfectly. 

“How much?” 

“What?” He asked as he went over to the decanter in his room and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed her one, Raven downing it immediately. She needed the extra liquid courage to do what he was requesting.

“Did it cost to convince them to let you pressure mount this into the ceiling?” 

Michael turned off the lights and strode over the chair and sat down, his face and body illuminated by the moonlight and lights from the Eiffel Tower through the giant windows. Raven licked her lips as she took in his power, his body slouched back and his legs spread wide. A king on his throne waiting to be entertained. 

“I’m sure you’ll make it worth every penny.”

She chuckled. “You are something else,” she muttered. “I went by Nova… Name of a character in a book I was reading at the time.” 

He chuckled. “Definitely thought you were gonna say somethin’ a little more out… stereotypical,” he admitted.

Raven snorted. “The market was oversaturated with Candys. Besides, I like to be different.” 

“So tell me, Nova, how often did the niggas you danced for throw benjamins at that fine ass?” He took a sip of his drink. 

“Not often enough.” 

“I imagine you’ll enjoy the experience then. Dance for me.” 

Raven could not help the way her legs clenched together at the demand, the juxtaposition of how he asked her to dance with him a mere hour ago. He turned on the speakers, sultry music filling the room. She had not danced in so long, it was true. She felt like part of her should have been nervous but she was not. It was like riding a bike, a skill she knew she’d never truly lose. And though she may not have the strength to do any tricks anymore, she guessed Michael knew and did not care much about that.

She reached behind her to unzip her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. She quickly threw it on a chair so it did not get wrinkled on the ground. She kept on her heels, though they were not tall enough to give the effect she wanted. The gold accents of her black lingerie glittered in the moonlight as she approached his chair. Her hips swayed with the music, her hands roamed her own body as she went, her eyes trained on him. 

Once she was in arm’s length, he immediately lifted his hands to grab for her but she stopped and held herself just out of his grasp. She shook her finger at him with a teasing smile. 

“No touching… club rules.” 

Michael letting out a menacing chuckle. “You’re gonna regret that later, baby girl.”

“I don’t think I am, daddy. Rules are rules. You like the lingerie I got for you?” She asked as she turned and leaned back on him, her ass grinding on his lap. She could feel him growing hard beneath her, loved how his hands curled into fists as he physically stopped himself from touching her. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. Think it’ll look better on the floor though…” 

“I dunno, I like it better like this.” 

She knew he was realizing just how out of control he truly was. This was her stage and she had all the power. The power to entice, to tease, to give, and to take away. 

She slid onto her knees beneath him, crawling away from him and back to her pole. She could feel his eyes trained on her ass as she moved. She knew it looked absolutely perfect, it was the main reason she purchased this particular set. She looked like a goddess and she felt like one too. 

For the next 15 minutes, she put on the best show of her life as Michael rained bills on her as if he could not get enough. She allowed the music to flow through her and thought of nothing other than pleasing him. Every movement tailored to his reaction, the spark in his eyes when she spread her legs, the way he bit his lip as she fondled her breasts, how he so clearly resisted undoing his tuxedo pants to pleasure himself when she finally stripped her bra off. She threw it at him, his hand catching it with ease and precision. She allowed herself to get lost in it, lost in the spotlight and the feeling of his eyes laser focused on her. All those things Michael said she was? In that moment, she felt it… like a queen. 

Meanwhile, Michael was beyond mesmerized. He could have watched her dance for hours and hours and it would not have felt like long enough. She moved as if born for a stage of some sort. This was a side of her he had never seen, a woman who knew her power and proudly stood in it. He wished he could punch any and everyone who diminished this version of her, who chipped away at this person and made her think she had such little power that scraps were all she deserved. She deserved so much more than that. 

“Come here,” he whispered, barely audible over the music. But she heard him and immediately finished her dance move and sank to her knees to crawl to him. 

Once she was before his chair, she slid into the position he always made her wait in, on her knees and head bowed. 

“What do you want?” 

“W-what?” Michael never asked her what she wanted when they had sex. That was the whole point, it was not about what she wanted. 

“What do you want? How do you want me to fuck you? Tonight, I do what you say.”

“Anything I say?” she asked, a twinge of a playful tone in her voice that made him shake his head. 

“Don’t get too excited. I still own that ass. But you put on a good show for me, feelin’ generous. What do you want?” 

She stared at him for a moment before answering. “I want to taste you and then I want to fuck you. And then… I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t move tomorrow.”

He let out a barking laugh before standing to strip, his member standing at attention. Her mouth watered as she took in the pre cum already leaking from his head. She wanted to groan at how slowly he was moving. He leaned over her and wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “Your wish is my command. If that’s what you want, ain’t no tappin’ out tonight.” 

“When have I ever tapped out?” she challenged. 

Michael grinned like a Cheshire cat. He loved that she had some fire in her. But she was not wrong. She never tapped out.

“We’ll see then.” He let her hair go and settled back into his seat. 

Raven immediately launched herself at his dick, not bothering to waste another second. She kept her eyes trained on his face as she spat on his dick, licking his head like it was her favorite treat. In some ways, it was. She continued her teasing, after all, it was still her show and she was still in control. She licked the underside of his shaft, along a vein that made him groan every time. She grinned as the deep, guttural sound escaped him. He did not even need to touch her, his mere voice and the sounds he made made a mess between her legs all on their own. 

“Don’t like… to be teased, baby girl,” he mumbled as his head fell back in pleasure, feeling particularly tortured by her warm mouth and her hand as she spread her spit along his shaft. 

She paused, her hand continuing to pump him. She decided that she was going to egg him on. She wanted him to take her to another realm when he fucked her tonight. She wanted all of him, all of his strength, all of his dominance, all of it until she could not take a single inch more. And she knew the best way to get that was to rile him up a bit. 

 “Shouldn’t have asked me what I wanted, daddy. Cause right now, I’m in a teasing mood.” 

He let out a low whistle. “Gonna tear that ass up in a minute.” 

She winked at him before enveloping his dick in her mouth. She moaned around him, enjoying how his hips bucked into her face at the vibrations, sending his dick farther into her throat. One of his hands rested on his stomach while the other tangled itself in her pressed hair. However, he did not stop her from controlling the pace as she sucked him. He just enjoyed the feeling of her head bobbing up and down on him, her hand massaging the base of his dick that she couldn’t fit into her mouth fully. She was responsive to his groans and moans, and had learned over the last month what he liked. 

And the one thing he liked was sloppy. She took breaks to spit on him and make a mess of her drool on his lap and the chair beneath him. They could add it to his tab, he decided as she deep throated him. Usually, when she did this, it was just him fucking her throat without a care. However, this time she was in control and she took her time, allowing him to feel every inch of him as she took him down her throat. 

“Fuckkkkkk… love your mouth, you filthy slut. That’s it. Take this dick.” 

Her jaw hurt, the dangly thing in the back of her throat ached every time she pushed her head back down on him. But all she heard was his praise and that spurred her on. Faster, sloppier. Whatever she could do to feel him explode in her… on her. On her… that stuck out as she felt his hips start to move faster in rhythm with her mouth. Michael had a thing for cumming on her ass when he fucked her from behind, which she loved. However, a particularly wicked idea came to her mind as she wondered where else she would like him to cum. She could not imagine he would say no… most men dreamed of that right? 

“I’m about to cum, don’t stop!” He called out. 

However, she did stop, letting him fall from her mouth but continued giving him a hand job. 

Her breathing was labored as she tried to catch her breath. “Cum on my face, daddy,” she begged, her voice filled with need and pleas that made Michael forget that he should be mad at her for stopping when he told her not to. 

She did not give him a chance to respond or check to ensure that was truly what she wanted before she took him into her mouth again. Knowing where she wanted him to release himself, Michael did not let her control the pace any longer. He wrapped her hair in his hands and fucked her mouth with abandon. Raven did not even care that she lost control, the sounds of his moans and grunts, the disgustingly lewd and sloppy noises of her mouth, her gagging were a perfect symphony to her ears. 

“I’m gonna cum!” he warned before using one hand to keep her hand in place while he aimed his dick right at her cheek and lips. 

Both of them were panting as he finished unloading on her face. She stayed there beneath him as he wiped his dick off on her other cheek. She licked her lips, enjoying the taste of his cum but she left the rest on as she rose to her feet and straddled him. Usually she did not move until he told her to move. However, she had made what she wanted clear and she was taking it. And then he could take her. 

She kissed him deeply, her hand massaging him until he was fully erect again. She wasted no time sliding down on his throbbing dick, both of them groaning as he filled her. 

“Wish you could see yourself… bouncing on my dick, covered in my cum. Such a good whore for me, baby. Did you like me cummin’ on that pretty face?” Michael asked as she rode him. He loved how disheveled she looked. Her face covered in his seed, her mascara running from her tears after he fucked her mouth. The picture of submission and that made him want to fuck the daylights out of her. However, he knew he had to practice patience. After all, he had given her control, he had to let her enjoy it… at least for a time. 

He buried his face in the valley between her boobs as she cried out. “Yes! Yes! I l-loved it!” He wished he had the nipple clamps to tug on while she rode him, an activity for later he decided as he sucked on her nipples. Everything he did to one, he did to the other as that was only right and fair as she switched between his favorite slow grind on his lap and bouncing on him. 

He could tell her legs were starting to grow tired as they slowed down a bit. However, he did not mind, that was perfect actually. It meant he could take over. 

“You had your turn. You read for daddy to take over again? Give you what you need?” he asked in her ear, his hand wrapped around her throat. She gasped as he squeezed lightly, the action sending her tumbling over the edge of her first orgasm. 

“Y-Yes, p-please.” 

“What do you want? Say it.” 

“Fuck me like a whore,” she whispered, desperate to feel all he had to offer. 

His hands grabbed her beneath her thighs and hoisted her up in the air. She let out a shocked cry at the sudden change and clung to him tighter. The whole time, their bodies never separated as he walked with her until she was backed against one of the French doors. He let her legs fall to the ground and turned her around roughly. 

“Spread your legs,” he demanded, his voice leaving no room for arguments, not that she had a single one. 

He pressed her cheek into the glass panel, her eyes trained on the glittering lights of the Eiffel in the distance as he wrapped his hand in her hair once again. He held the head of his dick at her entrance, sliding it against her clit and making her body convulse slightly. 

He slammed into her, causing Raven to scream out with pleasure. His thrusts pinned her entire body to the door as he fucked her like a man possessed. 

Her high pitched screams were incoherent words that Michael could not make out as he fucked her roughly against the door. She loved every moment of it. It was painful, her breasts and body pushed up against the door like that with every thrust but she loved it and never wanted it to end. 

“You still in a teasing mood??” he asked, Raven immediately shaking her head. She tried to answer verbally but the words would not form. He pulled her head back, her sweet perfume hitting his nose as he bit into her neck. He did not do it hard enough to leave a mark but he knew she felt it. “I asked you a fuckin’ question!” 

“No! N-no! I-I’m s-sorry,” she blubbered as she felt another orgasm building. She had asked for this and he was not going to disappoint. “F-Fuck… you f-feel so good. I-I love it!”  

He let go of her hair and slid out of her, Raven groaning at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He gripped her arm and pulled her into the bedroom.  

“Get your ass on the bed. Face down toward the window, ass up.” 

He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment while Raven assumed her favorite position. However, when he returned, she glanced at him and found a small black bullet in his hand. He turned it on, the powerful and loud vibration filling the bedroom. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do as he climbed onto the bed behind her and slid it into her hand. She immediately tried to shy away from him but he stopped her. 

“The fuck I say about tappin’ out? You’re gonna hold that to your clit and aren’t gonna take it off. Drop it, I spank you twenty times, turn it down, I spank you fifty times, turn it off… you won’t sit for a fuckin’ week. We’re gonna see how many times you can cum before I do.” 

With that, Raven braced her body up one one forearm before reaching beneath her to put the vibrator on her clit. She immediately shuddered as it sent spasms through her body. This was torture. 

“You tortured me. Now, I get to return the favor,” Michael offered as he roughly thrusted into her. 

She had never used a toy during sex in this way and torture was the right word, delicious, mindnumbing torture. With Michael’s dick curving into her g-spot with every thrust and the vibrator stationed on her clit, she came in record time, couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds. Keeping it on while she came was even harder. Every instinct wanted to end the pleasure so she could calm down but she couldn’t.

“I-I c-can’t,” she whimpered as she felt her orgasm start to build again. It was too fast, too much too soon.

“Yes, you can and you will. You wouldn’t want to disappoint daddy, would you?” A loud smack filled the air as he spanked her. “But I’ll help you.” 

He reached around and wrapped his hand in hers, forcing her to keep the vibrator there. Michael had to slow his movements down a bit to hold onto her hand but it was worth it to feel her pussy snapping around him with every orgasm. She came and she came and she came. She begged and screamed for reprieve and mercy and rest but he gave her none of it. He ignored all of it. By orgasm number 4, she was a quivering mess. Her arm had completely gone slack, her upper body pushed into the bed and he wondered if he was pushing her too far. But no safe word had crossed her lips, just a lot of curse words. 

“I’m close, baby… How many more you got in you? I think you got two more. Don’t fuckin’ run from me, baby girl. This shit’s what you wanted isn’t it?” He slammed into her with a particularly rough thrust. “Isn’t it??” 

“Y-Yes…” she choked out. But now she did not know what she wanted because her brain was utter mush. She wanted less, she wanted more, she wanted him to slow down, she wanted him to speed up. She wanted to stop and she wanted to give him those last two orgasms he believed she was capable of. It might kill her but so be it. 

“Yes what?” He spanked her again with all his might. 

“Yes sir!” 

She fell off the cliff again, a breathless scream escaping her as she came again. It was still pleasurable, a tinge of pain accompanying it that she had not expected but enjoyed. Her body was covered in a layer of tacky sweat, she was exhausted. And yet, she knew she had one more. She could feel all the signs that he was close and after all he had done for her this week, she desperately wanted to give him one more, to hear him praise her for doing so. 

She used her last bit of energy to fuck him back, using her arms as leverage to bounce back on his dick. She took the vibrator from him, pressing it into her clit. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum with me, baby. Take this dick and cum with me.” 

Just as he shot his load deep inside her, Raven felt everything in her explode with untold pleasure. She collapsed forward, the vibrator falling out of her hand as she rode the waves of the most intense orgasm of her life. She felt as if he had just restructured her very brain chemistry. Everything faded in and out as she laid there for only God knew how long, paralyzed and exhausted. Michael’s presence and movements felt like a ghost hovering around her. She did not move, stuck and frozen in that position until she felt Michael help her flip onto her back. 

She let out a whimper of pain and tried to close her legs as she felt a warm washcloth touch her too sensitive clit. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice returning to his usual gentle baritone. “Just tryin’ to clean you up a bit. We made a mess.” 

Once he was done, he reached over to the phone and called down for new sheets and a comforter before picking her up in his arms. He loved how her body immediately curled into his chest as he carried her into the bathroom and settled both of them into the tub. He held her up until he could get her hair in a high enough ponytail to ensure it did not get wet. He knew enough black women to know she would not appreciate that when she finally came to.

Raven moaned, the water was heavenly. They sat in silence, Michael massaging and rubbing her aching limbs while she just laid there with her eyes closed. 

“I hurt you?” he asked. It felt good in the moment, it was so easy to get lost in it with her. But now he worried he had pushed her too far past her limit. And more so, he felt worried that she had not felt safe enough to say so.

She shook her head, her words coming out as a raspy sigh, her voice half gone from screaming. “Not in any way I didn’t want you too. You gave me exactly what I asked for.” 

He kissed her shoulder. “You sure?” 

“Positive. It was… amazing. I promise.” 

“Never made you squirt before… I liked it. Maybe I’ll do it more often.” 

She chuckled. “That’s what happened at the end? If that’s how it feels, I’ll gladly do it again.” 

They stayed in the tub for a while, Michael lazily helping her work out the soreness and kinks she felt in her legs and back. She appreciated how gentle and attentive he was afterward. Something about the end of their playtime made her feel vulnerable and exposed, made her wonder what he truly thought of her after the things she willingly did. However, every time, he took the time to care for her and ensure she was ok, he checked in and asked questions about how she felt and let her rest in his arms before he left. She appreciated and needed that. 

When they finally got out, her legs felt like jello but she imagined it was better than it would have been. He helped her dry off before giving her a robe to put on. He settled on the edge of the bed, which had already been remade with fresh bed clothes as she walked out of the room and returned with her dress. She started to slide the bodice up her nude body. 

“Tonight was fun… perfect ending to a great week. Thank you.” She gestured toward the door. “I s-should head to my suite.” 

She turned to leave when his hand grabbed hers to stop her. 

“Stay.” The request was simple and though it was not phrased as a question, she knew it was one. 

She could not help the way her face twisted up in shock. She never stayed the night, they never actually slept beside each other. It was an unspoken rule between them. She bit her lip as she studied him. She could list a hundred reasons this was a terrible idea but none of them seemed reason enough to say no. So she settled for, “You sure that’s a good idea?” her voice was filled with her own hesitation and desperation to say yes. 

“Nah, I’m not,” he admitted, his hand cupping her cheek. “But I’m willing to take the risk if you are?” 

That was all she needed to hear. She unzipped the dress and let it fall back to the floor, this time too tired to care about discarding it on the ground. She followed him and let him help her into bed before falling asleep on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

***

“So what’d you think?” Michael asked as he helped her down the steps of the private plane. “First private jet experience? Worth it or nah?” 

“Totally worth it. No security lines? No screaming babies? No annoying adults? Insane amounts of leg room? True bliss.” And it was. Raven had slept most of the ride home, mainly due to still being sore and exhausted from the night before. She had asked Michael to introduce her to the mile high club but he told her she needed to rest. And he was not wrong, her pussy definitely needed a break. So she spent most of the flight curled up on his shoulder asleep while he worked and listened to music. 

By the time they landed at LAX, she had not even realized the whole flight had passed her by. The pair noticed a few paparazzi lurking on the other side of the gate as they walked to the car where Alex and Allen waited patiently for them.  

“Welcome home,” Alex offered as the two approached Michael’s car, Allen immediately greeting them both as well before grabbing their bags. “Have fun?” 

The couple nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’m so glad. That means you two are relaxed and can get back to it. Cause we got a problem.” She handed Michael her phone, his relaxed face immediately scrunching up in frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” Raven asked, confused as to what could have happened in the span of a flight. All was well when they took off this morning. 

“Well let’s just say… I am so glad I’m an only child,” Alex answered flatly as Michael handed Raven her phone so she could see ‘the problem,’ a giant TMZ headline staring back at her that featured a quote from her very own sister. 

Fuck.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r

***

A/N: I hope Paris was as magical for you as it was for me lol And our not-so favorite sister is backkkk. Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts or if you want to be tagged! Thanks for reading!

[v3nusxsky]

OMG glad that you have the new Kinktober bingo 😆. Could I request Regina mill x reader with rough sex and punishment? Maybe the reader was being brat so Regina has to put them in their place.

Please 🥺

Thank you

Little Girl 18+

*Authors note~ this covers the rough sex and/or punishment square on this bingo and is my first fic of Kinktober! Enjoy;)*

Trigger warnings~ rough punishment sex, r is an exhibitionist, dirty talk, humiliation kink, degrading kink, mistress kink, edging, orgasm denial, cock (dildo) warming, fingering, spanking, office sex?

Prompt~see ask^^^^

Covers this bingo square

Working as an intern for your girlfriend sounded like an amazing opportunity for you to gain real experience and attend the university of storybrook to get your degree. Of course Regina wouldn’t favour you just because of who you were. No. The regal woman ensured you’d work for the position fair and square, despite knowing you were the only worthy candidate. Only now when you were snowed under by multiple assignments and attempting to balance working and school did you consider that maybe you’d taken too much on your plate. These days you felt like you were mentally drowning, physically exhausted and emotionally a mess.

It wasn’t like she didn’t warn you when your behaviour began to fall on the brattier side. Her good girl fading away into nothing but a bratty whore desperately begging to be put back into her place. “Keep it up, you won’t like the situation you end up in” the raven haired mayor almost snarled at you as once again you were pushing her buttons, breaking the carefully discussed and agreed upon rules. One by one. She’d tried to be patient with you but being lenient was definitely not something that came naturally due to being queen in the Enchanted forest. Regina mills was use to her commands being met and would never tolerate ignorance. Not even from you. Her patience was wearing thin now.

It didn’t take you wrong to break the next rule. A basic rule she instilled for your wellbeing. As her lover and submissive she needed to ensure you were well cared for. Yet, you seemed to be hell bent on getting on her last nerve, refusing to eat her famous lasagna in favour of working on an assignment. Now, she could’ve left you. Perhaps you simply weren’t hungry. But as soon as she began to take a bite of her lunch your stomach protested. Painfully obvious that you simply were ignoring your own basic needs. She couldn’t. No. She wouldn’t stand for this any longer. “Eat your lunch little girl or you really won’t like what happens to you next” she threatened, the indigo swirls masking her beautiful chocolate covered irises. “what are you going to do? punish me?” Your retort unknowingly breaking any restraint Regina had left. A quick glance at the clock and a flick of her wrist was all it took for you to realise what you’d done.

Your comfortable hoodie and joggers gone within an instant, replaced with a sheer see through bra and short checkered skirt. A shiver working its way through you as you took in your appearance. “Regina?! What the hell!” You whined loudly. She couldn’t be serious? Could she? “There’s people outside” you protested in a hope she would forget her plans. “i dont care who’s outside” was all she snapped back reminding you over a specific night to which you agreed to be used in this manner for a punishment. The thought being arousing but unsure if she would ever act upon that conversation until now.

Seemingly unbothered by your whines of protest she continued to use her magic to produce a girthy six inch purple dildo that was suctioned to her office floor before using her magic to hover you in place, just so the head of the faux cock brushed against your soaked lips. “You will sit here until I’m ready to deal with what a bratty slut you’ve become the past few days. I suggest you use this time during my meeting to think about what you need to be reprimanded for little girl.” Before you could protest she lowered your body down slowly allowing your cunt to accept the head of the cock before slamming you down the rest of the length. “I’ll deal with you later” was all she offered before turn her back to you and allowing the meeting members to enter.

Despite the added eyes that raked over your form, your lover didn’t even spare you a glance, the meeting flowed in the same ways you’d observed before. Regina took the lead and remained firm to her agenda. Any off topic comments or questions were met with a hard stare or slight scoff at the stupidity before moving on. Soon enough the overwhelming feeling of being so full while everyone in the room knew what was occurring had your poor cunt leaking on the floor, the room thick with the scent of your arousal. It wasn’t long before you caught the attention of Emma swan. Her years as a bails bond person leaving her with many talents about reading people. You’d almost feel bad, if you weren’t enjoying the slither of attention so much. She wasn’t Regina however some attention was most certainly better than none.

Pert nipples straining to be free of the sheer skimpy bra, accompanied by a beautiful blush covering the tops of your breasts and your slender neck were on full display to the room. You should’ve been ashamed really as you held the blonde sheriffs glance and began to rut against the faux cock wedged within your soaked walls. But it just felt so damn good. Regina never said you couldn’t enjoy this moment so why would you stop? Not when you could feel eyes on you now, watching the show you were so gladly providing the room. Every roll of your hips nestled the toy deeper into your awaiting core, drawing what started as small gasps and whines of pleasure before growing into moans. Seething. Regina mills was seething. Quickly dismissing the members of her meeting she needed to attend to you. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, i won’t wait, I’ll punish you there and then do you understand little girl?” She seethed, “such a filthy whore you had to fuck yourself in front of Miss Swan didn’t you?”

“No I you” you stuttered out as your hips were magically lifted from the drenched toy before you could finally fall over the edge of bliss. “What?” Was all you could mumble as she effortlessly positioned your ass up as she bent you over her desk. “You didn’t say I couldn’t -“ you started to defend your slutty actions only to be silenced but her manicured hands lifting the poor excuse of a skirt and exposing your round globes to the world. “Your ass is so soft… imagine how pretty it’ll look with my handprint on it.” She murmured in thoughtfulness before muttering a spell to keep your legs bound and spread wide for her viewing. “Slutty little girls shouldn’t enjoy their punishments darlimg, surly even a dumb little thing like you would know that? Now count for your mistress.”

Within the first few strikes of her hand to your soft skin you began to babble about how you didn’t do anything wrong. Regina never said you couldn’t fuck yourself on her toy. But she didn’t give you the green light of permission either. “Speak up little girl or I’ll add five more. You know I can’t stand mumbling.”

By strike ten you still had fight in you that didn’t belong. The witch was growing tired of your pathetic noises now, “that sounds like an excuse, i want a confession.” By strike twenty you broke, sobbing out broken confessions for every rule youd broken and begging her for forgiveness. Both ass cheeks sporting a beautiful shade red raw and small welts from her own hand. Stunning. You would never understand how absolutely gorgeous you are in the moment, but she did.

You couldn’t help the obscenely loud moan of pain mixing with pleasure as she plunged her two fingers into your awaiting pussy. “Do you want them to hear you being such a slut?” She tutted in disappointment before reaching her free hand round to shove four fingers into your mouth, pressing ever so perfectly on your tongue. A mixture of moans and gags were all that filled the room besides the filthy sounds of her fingers drilling into your cunt, bringing you to the edge once more. “Please mistress! Need to cum” you mumbled round her fingers as your pussy clenched around her digits.

“No little girl, you’re in trouble, you don’t get to demand anything from me.” She whispered removing her fingers from your needy core and switching the arousal covered ones with her spit covered ones, “clean your filthy mess” she commanded and left you no choice but to obey. So submissive that you’d walk over hot coals just to please her. Finally back to her sweet little girl, who’d do anything for her. Finally back where you belonged.

Word count ~1531

[arabian-bloodstream]

HOTD - 2.06 "Smallfolk" I haz thoughts

A few quick thoughts about the episode… Heads-up, I will be vaguely referencing spoilers for Fire & Blood, so I want to give peeps a warning about that. I'm not going into any specifics, but I do mention something from that, so, yeah.

First, the Rhaenyra & Mysaria scene. My first reaction, uhm OK. My second, OK, this makes sense. Lemme break this down why I think it makes sense, why it didn't surprise me, why I thought the set-up has been building throughout (a) the series, (b) this season, (c) this episode, (d) this scene, and (e) the point of it moving forward -- note, this is the where the F&B spoilers come in.

(a) Mysaria was introduced as someone who mostly trusted Daemon. Who put her faith, more or less, in him even if she had one foot out the door and had her back-up plan ready to go. She also knew that Daemon had a soft spot for someone with silver hair (uh huh). Daemon didn't respect her, didn't listen to her, speak to her, treat her even remotely as an equal. However….

(b) Rhaenyra has been doing so. Rhaenyra has been fair. Rhaenyra has listened to her counsel. Rhaenyra has shown herself the opposite of Daemon. Mysaria can see why Daemon was so in love with Rhaenyra now. Mysaria is revealing herself to Rhaenyra, showing her vulnerability and trust because Rhaenyra has done the same to her. Showing her equality. And this companionship has been growing all season.

(c) In this episode in particular, we turn to Rhaenyra. She has been abandoned by Daemon again. She's heard no word from him. She's sent ravens. Nothing. She lost Rhaenys, her most stalwart supporter on the council. Because of Daemon going off and ignoring her, she had to send her second-most stalwart supporter, Lord Alfred, to go find out what is going on with Daemon. This leaves her with a bunch of men who don't respect her, don't listen to her, talk over her. Even Jace, though he loves her, he clearly doesn't think she can do it without Daemon. So, as she said, all she's hearing is Daemon, Daemon, Daemon

And Daemon, Daemon, Daemon flounced off and abandoned her! Well, the last time that Daemon flounced off, he was gone for ten years! That's why she told Mysaria, the ONLY person she can talk to about this because everyone else is telling her, well, you need Daemon!, that she has to do this on her own. Because, well, what if Daemon doesn't come back? She can't make plans for when he comes back if he doesn't because she doesn't know because Daemon isn't answering her texts! He has ghosted her.

Her feelings about Daemon were made abundantly clear in this episode. She told Mysaria that she and Daemon were over. Literally said those words.

Now, let us circle back to her big fight with Daemon the last time they spoke. She asked him if he was ready to accept her as his ruler and queen. He did not answer. In that fight, they were both playing the role of ruler/subject and lovers, and both roles ended without resolution and Rhaenyra has been left hanging waiting, waiting, waiting, unfulfilled. Now, here comes Mysaria, who was a courtesan. Who knows how to fulfill a role. Who knows that Rhaenyra is isolated, alone, missing her husband, angry with her husband, and frustrated beyond all measure.

And, I genuinely believe--could be wrong, but I think it's the case--that Mysaria meant what she said to Rhaenyra. She believes in her. She believes she should be queen. She believes in her. She believes that Rhaenyra cares for her and sees her as her equal, so when Rhaenyra, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, took her in her arms in an embrace, Mysaria took it a deep further. She sniffed her neck, she made it sexual, and Rhaenyra, who we know in her youth had an affection for Allicent--she wanted to run away with her at one point, that was not said in jest--was affected.

Let us look at Rhaenyra in this moment, angry, frustrated, hurt, betrayed by her husband. She knows that there is the VERY real possibility that Daemon is raising a host in his OWN name, turning against her. More than that, she is alone, has been alone in that big empty bed. She and Daemon are a passionate couple, we know that about them (although, it would be nice to see more of it, ahem). How often have we seen Rhaenyra in that big empty bed on her side leaving his empty? They clearly sleep together in that bed. But he's gone and she has not had physical touch beyond that moment when Jace crumpled. Her son calls her "Your Grace." Everyone keeps their distance but for dressing her from her servants. Rhaenyra has been in isolation.

Thus this moment.

But what happens when Daemon comes back? When Daemon answers Rhaenyra's question with a resounding, definitive YES! I accept you as my queen and ruler! as I believe he will. When Daemon and Rhaenyra are once more on the same page. Ie., Daemon's arc. Well, that brings us to…

e) As (d) I'm hoping made clear, while I do think that Rhaenyra values Mysaria's counsel, physically, she is just a substitute for what she does not have right now which is her husband. Mysaria is just a warm body, and Rhaenyra gave in to that moment because she believes that Daemon and she are over. However, once the two are reunited again, Mysaria will be forgotten in a romantic/sexual fashion, I believe, and her counsel may be lessened as well. Likely because Daemon will be disparaging her at every turn.

And this is where Fire & Blood comes in. From what we know Mysaria whispers not so pleasant things about Daemon to Rhaenyra to fuel paranoia against him. My conjecture after this episode is that we now have our reason. It is one of two things. Either she wants to punish both Rhaenyra and Daemon, Daemon just because she hates him still, and Rhaenyra for not loving her/ignoring her. Or, she wants to keep the two at odds because it's only when they are at odds that she has Rhaenyra to herself. Either way, it makes sense.

Phew! Now a few other things…

I really hope that Alys doesn't betray Daemon or they don't turn their relationship into something sexual because I really like the idea of them as friends. I really do. Daemon needs a real friend. And as fucked up as his visions are, I genuinely think they are going to help him in the end.

Viserys! I was all… VISERYS! Daemon really needed to see his bro again. And I did enjoy those two scenes, I did. Paddy!!

You know, I still have zero sympathy for Alicent. Reaping the consequences of your actions there. Yup.

Seasmoke chasing down Addam was awesome. I yelped/laughed when he pounced.

I am sorry, but the disparity in screentime for the Greens vs the Blacks is ridiculous! The first half was heavy TG and light TB. Now we're in the second half and sure it's heavier TB, but we're STILL seeing TG on a decent scale. In the first half, Rhaenyra was barely seen while Alicent was all over. And whaddya know? We're finally getting more Rhaenyra, and, hmm, Alicent is still getting tons of screentime. Grrrr!!!

Gay Abandon. I just can't.

OK, I lied. They weren't quick.

[bats-and-birds-24]

A Charming Life

Daring Charming’s life had been decided for him since he was 5 years old. He was to be the next King White, consort of the next Queen White, ruler of Ever After. It was a great honor, his parents told him. Of course, it also meant that he had to change everything he was.

As a child, he was too messy, too loud, too wild. His behavior was not befitting of the next King White. His hair was too light, his eyes were too pale, his smile too crooked. So he changed himself, he dyed his hair religiously, wore blue contacts, practiced his smile in the mirror.

He was always perfect. He had to be.

That all changed the day Raven renounced her destiny. 

At that moment, even among the horror dawning on the faces of his fellow royals, a tiny part of him was exhilarated. The chance for him to be free from this life danced in front of him. He knew it was wrong of course, especially since his destiny was far cushier than most of his fellow royals. 

Hell, all he had to do was be Apple’s husband. All he had to do was smile and wave next to her during important events. Sure, he may want to do more, but no one gets everything they want in life. Besides, he already signed the storybook of legends, there was no backing out of it now.

Daring ignored his stomach churning. A life of nothing but empty press conferences, political meetings where he had no say, and paperwork flashed before his eyes. He choked down the revulsion that rose in him. He was being ungrateful

It’ll be fine, It’ll all be fine.

Flash forward to now, and all was not fine. 

Daring was confirmed to not be the prince of Apple’s story, his relationship with Lizzie fell apart after he went on that stupid, stupid, date with Kitty, and he had no idea what to do with Rosabella, sure they were technically a fated couple, but after few subpar dates, they called it quits.

He went up to the mirror in his room, carefully looking at his reflection, a practice he had since he was 8 and Snow White discreetly pulled him aside during an event to scold him for having food stuck in his teeth. She had also apparently informed his father of this misdeed, who decided that the only way of correcting him was to put a match out on his face.

He wore makeup for days after that, and King Charming got him a state of the art scar vanishing cream. It was hexcellent of course, no one but him and his dad ever knew it existed. His fingers lingered on the place the scar should’ve been if it wasn’t removed. For just a moment, he felt a pang of jealousy at Dexter, how he never had to act perfect. 

He felt ashamed at himself for thinking that, sure Dexter never had to be perfect, but he was neglected. Their father barely noticed his existence. And yet, there was still a persistent voice at the back of his head insisting that while Dexter would never have any attention on him, he was freer for it.

Daring bit his lip, the jealousy surging through him once more. Free, something he would never be. Unless, a thought sprung to the forefront of his mind, wild and unruly, his first thought was to cut it down before it did any damage to his perfect reputation. 

He cringed inwards, his reputation was already in tatters, his fangirl group had drastically reduced after it was discovered that he wasn’t Apple’s Prince Charming. He already knew most of the girls only hovered around him because of his popularity, but to see it confirmed crushed what little pride he had left.

He made up his mind, he was going to drop out of Ever After High. 

It had nothing more to offer him. The only reason he even attended the prestigious high school in the first place was because of his parents' insistence. “You will make strong connections with the other families there.” They said; He scoffed at the memory. If anything, his relationship with the other story characters had worsened. Not to mention that his studies as the Royal Consort far outstripped anything taught at this elite boarding school.

Before coming to Ever After High, he knew what was expected of him, and how to accomplish his goals, but now, every ideal he held dear was lost in a sea of uncertainty. 

But maybe, just maybe, this was the out he’d been desperately searching for in the deep recesses of his mind. He could just take up a remote post in the United Charming Kingdom and eventually be forgotten. Sure, there will be a lot of questions asked about how the Charming golden child fell this far, but he could live with them. He could not however continue living a lie.

The silence was stifling as he packed his bags. The mirrors should stay behind, he decided. He wanted a clean start and all mirrors did was bring up bad memories of being trapped in the mirror dimension. (And of failing his destiny.) A dark part of his mind whispered.

Headmaster Grimm, put up surprisingly little resistance to his decision. The man must have realized that arguing with his students is a losing battle. 

Grimm frowned, he had never seen the golden child of the Charming family look like this before. He usually had a vapid bright grin on his face, alongside an air of suave charm. The boy, no, man, in front of him had none of those qualities. His face was one of steadfast resolve, and maybe it was just him, but even some of his physical attributes seem to have been changed. His eyes and hair seemed a touch too pale, and his canines seemed longer somehow. 

Grimm sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. The stress of this job was taking its toll on him. He got his first gray hair when he had the Evil Queen as his student, and despite her daughter Raven’s insistence on not being like her mother, she still made everyone else’s lives harder all the same.

Daring got the first train back to Charming Castle. 

His reception back went as expected. King Charming’s icy glare seemed to have permeated the entire palace. The Queen’s attempts at lightening the mood failed as he reciprocated his father’s tone, bluntly answering his questions and adding nothing to the conversation. In any case, the real talk between the two would have to be done behind closed doors, away from his mother’s prying ears. There was no point in worrying her.

As the servants cleared away the plates, Queen Charming watched as her son and husband retired to a private office, most likely to discuss him dropping out of Ever After High. She was worried. Out of all of her children, Daring was the one she had the least stress over, and yet here he was going against his father for the first time since he was a child. She’d never had trouble reading him before, he was a sweet, if somewhat naive, happy-go-lucky kid. She had a gut feeling that something was going to go very, very badly.

The two men stared at each, not knowing what to do. Daring broke the silence, “I’ve dropped out of school.” King Charming paused, choosing his words carefully, “I’m aware. I want to know why you did that.” 

Daring sighed, here goes nothing, “There weren’t any benefits to being at the school. Any previous connections I made I’ve lost after it came to light that I wasn’t Apple’s Prince Charming.” He watched as King Charming’s temper rose, “And you really couldn’t have found a way to stop that information from leaking?” 

Daring’s temper rose too as he listened to his father speak, but he bit his tongue as he knew that talking back won’t serve any of his goals. “Blondie was reporting live to everyone in the school, including Snow White, there wasn’t much to do there.” “Wasn’t much to do there? Wasn’t much to do there? You should’ve figured something out! And now we need to figure out a way to save at least Darling’s reputation since yours has been shot to hell!” King Charming fumed.

Daring swallowed a lump of red hot anger, of course he didn’t do enough, he did everything his father asked of him to do and somehow it’s still not enough. It never is. Before he could think his words through, he snapped back, “Then maybe I should just leave!” He registered his words too late, King Charming was already out of his and was fisting his son's collar. “You don’t speak to me like that Ever After! Do you hear me! You don’t speak to the man who raised you like that!” 

The fury in his father’s voice should have shocked him, but it didn’t. He was only disappointed in himself for not being careful with his words. The situation needed to be fixed and fast, before his mother came to investigate. He switched his tone to a more deferent one “I didn’t mean any disrespect to your highness! I was only offering a solution to the problem we face at hand!” 

The King’s eyes narrowed, silently searching for any lie, he then released Daring’s collar, and waved his hand to continue. Daring spoke quickly, “I believe that I should be given a governorship to a remote principality in our Kingdom and stay out of the public eye for a while. In time, people will begin to forget this situation entirely.” 

King Charming scratched his chin as he thought. The boy wasn’t wrong, it would lessen the damage to their family’s reputation. That being said, he might have caught some of the more radical ideas espoused by a certain Raven Queen at the school. He might try to change some of the more traditional aspects of how the Kingdom was run. He needed to put Daring away where he would do minimum harm. King Charming’s eyes spotted a map of the Charming Kingdom. The Kingdom was separated into 10 separate principalities. 

The 3 southwestern principalities of the Mercantile Charmings, Romantic Charmings, and themselves, the Royal Charmings, who ruled over everyone else, were the most densely populated, along with being the seat of power. This made it unsuitable for Daring as he would constantly be in his way. The 3 southwestern principalities were more rural, consisting of bustling towns and small villages scattered across the map. They were important to the Kingdom because of the crops they produce, making them the breadbasket of the country. He then remembered that he was destined to be the beast to Rosabella Beauty, a very opinionated princess, not traditional at all, much to his annoyance. 

The King frowned, “Aren’t you with Rosabella Beauty right now?” Daring cleared his throat, “We’re actually split up, she’s a rebel and doesn’t believe that we should be married just for a story’s sake.” King Charming snorted. How typical of his son to not manage to convince a princess to follow the path laid out for her. He always was soft with women. That being said, not having to deal with a whiny daughter in law might just be for the best. 

The Southwestern principalities would be out then, he didn’t want Daring trying to meddle with the farmland with those radical pesticide free nonsense Rosabella Beauty was spouting. Honestly, the beauties needed to control their women, Briar Beauty was out making a fool of herself at every major royal gathering he had been to.

Daring was getting nervous, usually his punishments just involved running laps, or being abandoned in the woods and made to find his way back, or brutal sparring with his father. Maybe he pushed it with his ideas.

While all this was going through Daring Charming’s head, King Charming was still musing. He could drop him off in the 3 Northeastern principalities, but he was already unpopular with families in charge of those territories; he didn’t need his idiot son giving them more ammunition. His eyes flitted to the final principality. Well, it was only a principality in name as no Charming family wanted the burden of taking care of the land. It was supposed to be ruled by the Wild Charmings, but they died out years ago for whatever reason. The land was the single largest territory in the Kingdom, easily making up more than a quarter of the landmass. However, none of the resources could be mined out because of the large beast population in the area scuttling any plan to  civilize it. Yes, it would be the perfect place to stash his failure of a son until this whole problem blows over, then maybe he can maybe marry him off to one of the northeastern principalities’ families as a peace offering.