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doudouhoon · 2 days ago

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A SONG OF BLOOD AND DUTY

pairing ✶ ice prince!park sunghoon x fire princess/dragonrider!reader

synopsis ✶ the princess of the fire kingdom has been betrothed to the crown ice prince since the second that she was born. when duty calls, she must take her place next to park sunghoon and rule the ice kingdom. but can she leave her kingdom to her immoral half-brother and give up her rightful succession as the first-born? now, she must make her choice - engulf the ones who have wronged her in flames and shed blood or be the queen that never was.

warnings ✶ graphic violence (fencing and i promise nobody was hurt (for now 😈), sexual harassment (very subtle and non-verbal).

est. word count ✶ 6k

author’s note ✶ first chapter is out y’all! it is kinda boring but that is just because it’s the start of the plot. ngl i didn’t expect it would take so much work 😟 but here we are! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated and i kindly remind you that this is my first piece of work so keep that in mind (i am afraid to read it 🥸). p.s. i changed the name of the ice kingdom in the last second. so for every asoiaf fan who has heard of ulthos, i am well aware that it’s situated in the south part of the world, i just changed that fact for the sake of the story.

taglist ✶ @firstclassjaylee, @dksfml, @miukidoll, @d-dilemma, @xylatox

the sharp sound of metal against metal rang out like the harsh crack of a whip. the wind whooshed as the swords clashed in the training ground. each movement of the opponents was deliberate, but one lacked footwork. one wrong step and you will be on the ground, feeling the still wet mud from yesterday’s rainfall engulf your body in filth.

“well done, my prince!”

the orotund voice of aegon’s personal trainer and one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom was heard as he drew nearer to the young lad.

aemond still lay in the muddy ground, catching his breath from his brother’s sharp attacks. he blinked a few times and caught sight of ser criston cole’s body hovering above him. cole stretched out his hand to the defeated.

“we must work on your stability, your highness.”

aemond took hold of his calloused hand and only grunted in reply. standing up on his feet, he saw the look of all the knights around the training field. they thought he was weak. but what vexed him the most was his older brother’s triumphant grin.

you watched the scene in front of you unfold with an observant look. you were never allowed to participate in your brothers’ duels, god forbid; your merit is shown to the eyes of the world. the only times you were to touch a sword were your private lessons with ser harrold westerling, with whom your combat skills were sure to meliorate.

gathering your long dress in your hands, you held it with a delicate grip, turning your back to the resumed clash of swords. you took deliberate steps in order not to stomp on your intricate carmine dress. you entered the palace. your steps were quick, but not quicker than the two guards following you incessantly. light shily illuminated the dark red stone, which adorned the corridors to the chambers and study rooms. you took a sharp turn to the great library and huffed. the grand maester will surely now apprise your father of your constant lateness.

seeing the massive doors to the library, you willed yourself to quicken your step despite the discomfort you felt in the lengthy clothing. the guards in front saw your hurried manner and scurried to open the entryway.

entering the room, you saw the grand maester preparing the books you will need for today’s lesson in high valyrian.

you neared the ginormous table and sat down in one of the chairs.

“grand maester orwyle, apologies for my tardiness.”

the guilt in your voice was evident, which somehow put him at ease. at least you were not like your younger brothers.

“a princess with no imperfections is yet to be born, your grace. while i was awaiting your arrival, i arranged the books we will read today. now, let us begin. shall we?”

you nodded and gently smiled at the grand maester. he was wise and kind, unlike most of the men, roaming the red keep.

spending the next few hours of the day perfecting your mother tongue, even though you spoke it with no difficulties, was just another galling part of your everyday regime. your duty as a targaryen princess was to study until you knew the full monty of westorosi history, the chronicles of houses of service to the crown and the days of old valyria. future obligations, needless to say, included being a good wife and bearing heirs to the crown. notably, a male one.

having been done with your commitments for the day, you retreated to your bedchambers to rest before dinner. walking up to your vanity in the corner of your sleeping quarters, you sit in the hand-carved chair and gaze at the mirror in front of you. with a sigh, you reach for the wooden brush and start combing your dark tresses.

an abrupt knock at the door halted your movements.

“come in!”

your voice was heard from the other side of the door, prompting the guards to grasp the handle and finally reveal the man.

it was a woman. a familiar silhouette.

your lady-in-waiting, lisa massey bowed and stepped into the room.

“your highness, we must prepare your gown for tonight! should i help you brush your hair?”

hastily moving from one corner of the chambers to another, lisa frantically searched for the brush in your hands.

watching her, you took in her uneasy manner.

“what is the occasion today?”

“lord loren lannister has arrived in king’s landing to lodge his eldest son to the crown. or more specifically to you! didn’t the king mention that matter to you, rea?”

releasing yet another heavy sigh, you direct lisa’s focus to the comb in your right hand and faintly smirk.

“amusing, wasn’t it?”

slowly shaking her head, she walks up to you and starts gently combing through your hair.

“i’ll have the other servants prepare your gown for tonight.”

mindlessly nodding your head, you hum to her in a reply. you wondered if this one would be another scrawny little boy or perhaps a grey-bearded suitor of your long-deceased grandmother’s. nonetheless, you asked yourself why your father let all of this take place, given that you were already betrothed.

having no answer to that, you let your dear friend and lady-in-waiting help you slip into the silken black dress and proceed with the jewellery.

after lisa said she deemed you were in a fit state, you heard yet another knock at your door.

“your highness, the king is expecting you.”

“what great timing.”

catching your whisper, lisa only giggles and gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“i am sure you will be fine, my princess.”

her mischievous smile only grew in size when you replied.

“i will. but nothing is certain for the one who will court me tonight.”

giving her a wink and a playful smile, you step to the doorway and let the guards push it open.

the tramp of two sets of marching feet could be heard behind your back. the sound alarmed the servants inside the castle, prompting them to bow as low as they could and pay their respect to the passing princess.

the thought that you were seen as an admirable figure, even a god by some, just because of your noble blood, always troubled you from a young age.

aerea did not think that she was more deserving of all of the gifts, given by the seven gods, than the poor smallfolk of the seven kingdoms.

hence, she evinced her benevolence and generosity to the people surrounding her. not because she wanted to be cheered on as “the realm’s delight”, but by virtue of her moral values.

having finally arrived before the door of the small hall, you take one last steady breath and slowly exhale, readying yourself for the awaiting charade on the other side.

the kingsguards bowed at you and opened the entry to the high-ceiling room.

a deep voice boomed to your right, signalling your presence.

“princess aerea targaryen!”

standing up to their feet, lord lannister and his son bowed their heads and awaited your next exertion.

your father watched calmly, smiling to himself at his daughter’s beauty and grace, a painful reminder of your late mother.

taking measured steps, you round the table and slightly bow at the king, seated at the end. after a few moments, you at last sat to your father’s right and smiled uneasily.

lord loren took it upon himself to commence the dialogue.

“your grace, princess aerea really is the epitome of elegance. i am honoured to finally meet you, your highness.”

while saying that, a faint smirk played at the corner of his lips, making you feel disturbed.

you glanced at your father’s face, him still smiling faintly and enjoying the compliments his daughter was receiving.

mustering up a polite smile, you turn your head to the lord on the other side of the wooden table.

“thank you, lord lannister. you truly flatter me.”

the young man observed you with a genuine curiosity, having heard quite a lot of whispers about the princess. alas, he decided to stay silent for now.

your father finally joined the exchange, standing up straight in his seat.

“lord loren, i have heard your son… the young lord kevan has shown outstanding merit during his swordsmanship trainings.”

the man eagerly nodded his head, agreeing with your father’s claim.

“yes, your grace! kevan possesses excellent prowess. when he was a little boy, he fancied watching our guardsmen fight one another. i knew he would become a splendid fighter.”

the older man patted his son on the shoulder as if to encourage him to say something, anything, to assert his presence. he really did look like a lannister. fair, golden hair and light green eyes. seemed like he was not quite talkative.

while the elderly went on talking about the imports of silks, dyes, and spices from Essos, you sat there and partly paid attention to the conversation. you did not show any interest in the lad sitting across the table. what troubled you was his constant, observing stare, following your every little movement.

he is such a creep! like father, like son, right?

good thing no one could hear your thoughts.

king daeron made a hasty gesticulation, and in a few seconds a few maids entered the hall, hands full of different exquisite dishes and wines.

finally! the faster we finish here, the better for me.

the princess had run out of patience, desperately wanting to get out of the lannister’s grip and retreat to her chambers.

not forgetting her manners, she ate a sufficient amount of food, chewing slowly, inaudibly, and with her mouth closed. she was careful not to sip too much wine or indulge in gluttony.

occasionally joining the tedious chatter, she exhibited forced grins and laughter, as to not seem distant or mannerless.

when aerea finally had enough of the futile charade, she seized the moment and carefully excused herself to the king and present lord; the reason was her drowsiness from the long day.

her father granted her permission to leave, and aerea stood up slowly to avoid appearing to be eager to vacate her seat.

she curtsied to the men, the lords also paying their respect to the princess by standing up and bowing to her.

what aerea did not miss was the evident anguish on lord loren’s face. she will definitely laugh about that with lisa later.

the doors closed behind her, her cue to release the sigh she was holding for so long.

she walked back the same path to her personal chambers, the guards still following her closely.

reaching her room, aerea ardently opened the doorway herself, entered, and closed it again with a thud.

the members of the kingsguard stood outside, confused by the princess’s doings.

the need to get rid of your clothes was overwhelming. you changed into your silky white nightgown, washed up as fast as you could, and lay in bed, alas restless.

this was the third time you had to endure having dinner with corrupt lords and their sons, men who grasped for power and authority through marriage.

you were well aware of the deal your father made with the king of ulthos. the marriage that awaited you, that will make you another kingdom’s queen. so why did your father allow all of this? certainly, the people of westeros were not apprised of the king’s scheming. no one knew, except for the council and the royal family. but was this pretence necessary?

on the other side of the world, park sunghoon was sitting at his writing table, quietly reading a history book. fatigue crept up his bones, resulting in him omitting words and even phrases. groaning lightly, he stood up and put the open book on the wooden surface next to him. the prince summoned his maids and ordered them to prepare him a hot bath.

while he waited, sunghoon strolled to the window in his room, taking in the scenery presented in front of him. the city beyond the gates of the castle was bustling with life even through the late hours of the night. guards were stationed on every corner of the stronghold. everything seemed peaceful. alas, sunghoon’s mind was not. with every passing day, his duties seemed to double, his training became more and more exhausting, and events he was unable to escape drew nearer.

his body ached from today’s combat with the swordmaster. his mind was buzzing with hundreds of thoughts, none of which were comprehensible.

sensing a presence in the dark room, he turned around only to see one of his servants.

the young girl anxiously bowed and spoke with a tremble in her voice.

“your highness, the bath is ready.”

the prince nodded slightly and shifted his attention to the aperture once again.

“next time you enter my chambers, do not forget to knock and announce yourself.”

his tone was cold and assertive, causing the girl to wince in trepidation.

“forgive me, my prince.”

the maid did not dare to raise her gaze and look at the man’s forbidding figure.

“you are dismissed.”

sunghoon listened closely for the girl’s footsteps, and only when he heard the door close did he turn around and start undressing.

he unbuttoned his black silk shirt and sauntered towards the washroom. once in front of the bath, filled with hot water, the prince fully undressed and stepped in.

sighing heavily as he felt his muscles relax, sunghoon laid back his head against the edge of the tub. his eyebrows softly twitched; his train of thought came to a screeching halt. he must wait to see what the following day has prepared for him.

“you should be glad that you have so many suitors wanting your hand in marriage, your highness!”

“suitors? do you call those immoral men suitors? they are pursuing the crown and the ascendancy that comes with it, not me!”

you softly laughed at lisa’s gullibility. lisa slowly followed behind you, choosing to abstain from replying.

the both of you were currently taking a walk in the gardens of the red keep. you promised to tell her of yesterday’s events, and so you did. but her opinion on the matter greatly differed from yours.

it was well before noon, and a meeting with your father awaited you. with time to spare before you had to present yourself in the castle, you decided to change the subject and continue your stroll to the greenhouse.

you found the king in his study, thoroughly examining a letter, clutched tightly in his hands. you stood near the entry, waiting for his acknowledgement.

after a few seconds, you timidly took a step forward.

“father, you asked for my presence.”

your soft voice broke his near stupor, making him lift his head. he looked nothing like the man he was yesterday at the dinner with the lannisters. your father’s stoic nature was evident once again, reminding you of the king he was. a good king, able to make harsh decisions at times needed.

“daughter, sit down.”

you took a seat and waited for his next words, wondering what the matter might be this time.

hopefully, not another dinner with a lord.

“i have received a letter of great importance.”

fidgeting with the hem of your dress, you stilled your breath.

the king took in your apparent agitation, a semblance of a smile flickering onto his lips.

“good news i might say. the king and crown prince of ulthos have finally made the decision to pay king’s landing a visit.”

hearing his father’s words, sunghoon showed no sign of shock, or dejection.

“when are we leaving then?”

“tomorrow, at sunrise. my master of ships has informed me that he expects the sea to be calm for the time being. the winds of winter have not picked up their strength yet.”

the king calmly took a sip of his wine, examining his son’s face.

“good. what should i be prepared for?”

chuckling, sunghoon’s father simply answered his son’s question.

“dragons.”

tittering lowly, the king did not receive any kind of response from his son. he was not in the mood for jests.

“oh! do not fret, son. the princess is said to be quite delightful.”

sunghoon did not pay mind to the king’s comment and softly exhaled.

just then, a knock was heard on the other side of the door.

“your grace, the hand wishes to speak with you.”

taking the cue to leave his father’s study, the prince stood up and bowed to the king. with a nod, he was ultimately dismissed.

sunghoon sipped the alcohol slowly, letting the bitterness engulf his taste buds.

“come on, now! you must enjoy yourself tonight, my prince.”

jake harshly patted the man’s back, prompting their other companions to howl with laughter.

sunghoon only glanced in his friend’s direction and asked.

“and why is that?”

“who knows? it might be your last. you could fall victim to the princess’s dragon! i doubt that she likes solemn men like you.”

the last part of jake’s reply did not catch the prince’s attention whatsoever.

“her dragon?”

“she is a targaryen princess, sunghoon. have you not realised that yet?”

calon said matter of factly, slightly irking sunghoon with his tone of voice.

the lad made a motion with his hand to catch the young men’s attention, making them draw nearer to him.

the only figure, which stood rooted in his place was sunghoon’s.

“there is a rumour that the egg hatched the day she was born. her dragon is quite large for her age. i wonder if the saying that targaryen women are as fierce as their dragons is true.”

another fit of laughter burst around the table. the crown prince was not happy with calon’s behaviour tonight, not failing to show it with the way his brows furrowed.

“tell me, calon. do you think you are amusing?”

calon’s smile faltered, and silence fell upon the group.

“why are you so capricious today, my prince?”

the way the title rolled off calon’s sharp tongue only fuelled sunghoon’s anger. he abruptly stood up, choosing to leave the table, but not before shooting a glare his friend’s way.

“sunghoon?”

the prince clearly heard jake’s voice calling for him, deciding to disregard him and leave the pub they entered together an hour ago.

servants were flitting around the castle, preparing for the visitants, who were to arrive soon. the floors were swept, the windows were polished, and the bushes in the gardens were trimmed to perfection.

soon enough, word spread around king’s landing and the people of the capital city battered the crown with overflowing inquiries. yet, the royal family refrained from providing the much-needed answers. at least, until the arrival of the crown of ulthos.

you did not recognise the emotion you felt when you were informed of the matter. was it relief? perhaps dismay? whatever it was, there was nothing to be done. your purpose was to become the bind between the two kingdoms and eventually bear heirs to the succeeding king.

with thoughts constantly plaguing your mind, you put down the book you were previously reading. you currently occupied a bench in the garden’s grounds, observing the servants removing the thorns of the red roses. you always wondered why they would do this if it shortened their lives. you relished in their beautiful bloom during the summer, with their thorns or not.

the princess heard footsteps drawing nearer towards where she sat. the voice that spoke out was perfectly familiar.

“your highness, i am sorry to disturb you.”

your servant annora, stood a few meters to your left, bowing ninety degrees at your figure.

turning your body slightly in her direction, you smiled warmly at the young girl.

she is always so dear and sweet.

“i am all ears, annora.”

reciprocating your beam, the servant allowed herself to walk closer to your body.

“you must pick your gown for the welcoming of ulthos’s royal family.”

oh! was that it?

“and his grace announced that he will be holding a jamboree for the king and crown prince the day they arrive.”

oh.

“did he state anything else on that matter?”

annora stayed silent for a few seconds, seemingly in thought.

“as far as i am aware, no, your highness.”

you nodded your head, turning your back to her and grasping the tome in your hands once again.

“very well. i will make my choice later today. thank you for informing me.”

despite your inability to see her movements, annora curtsied once more and took her leave.

they would reach the blackwater bay tomorrow if your calculations were correct, that is. which meant you had little time to prepare. both mentally and physically.

you continued with your reading, your mind preoccupied, causing you to feel as if the letters were moving of their own accord.

seems like today is not the day for reading.

“are you thrilled by the news, my dear sister?”

aegon chuckled, awaiting your reply, while sipping his dornish red wine.

you were currently attending the wonted supper, chewing the roasted carrots you opted for tonight.

aemond’s snicker only doubled your vexation. the loud clang of your silver fork against the rim of your plate silenced the two men, turning their attention to you.

you quickly turned your head towards the younger of the two, the sneer in your tone sharp like valyrian steel.

“what is so amusing to you, little brother?”

“children! do not spoil our family gathering!”

it was clear your father was weary of your bickering. his only desire was for his children to behave well and at least tolerate each other.

silence draped over the room like a velvet curtain, muffling even the clinking of the silverware.

you felt aemond’s stoic glare following your movements. as you looked at him, your eyes shivered with a mixture of anger and indignation. you never understood his ferocity, nor his motives.

your chair emitted a prolonged screeching noise as it dragged against the floor.

“i will take my leave now, father. i must prepare for tomorrow.”

you swiftly curtsied, giving your brothers a sidelong glance.

your father’s calls of your name went unanswered, and after the doors closed behind you, you bolted for your chambers, enervated from today’s circumstances, dreading tomorrow’s arrival.

after the princess awoke from her deep slumber, she lay motionless in her tangled sheets, eyes tightly closed and mind ground on the troubling events that were to occur. she did not know what to expect from the future, and the unknown rooted fear deep in her heart.

a pound startled aerea, making her slightly jump up from her position.

“your highness, are you awake?”

lisa’s head peeked out from the ajar door, a sigh escaping aerea’s lips.

the princess’s lady-in-waiting walked to her bed and sat next to aerea’s dainty figure. taking your warm hands in her own, lisa held them softly, her lips quirking into a warm smile. she sensed your unrest, knowing you like the back of her hand.

“i have always been fascinated by your strength. remember when the king forbade you to ride syrax, because of her fierce nature? nonetheless, you sneaked into the dragon’s pit and rode her for hours in that summer storm.”

you chuckled at the memory of your troubled adolescence.

“you possess a great strength of will, rea. you are a dragon. do not forget that.”

with renewed vigour, you took in lisa’s hands in your own, a gentle smile budding on your lips.

“i will not. i promise.”

your friend embraced you in a soothing hug, making you realise the immense pain you will suffer when you depart from each other. perhaps, you should take her with you?

“now! you should eat your first meal of the day and start the preparations.”

“chop-chop! we do not have much time.”

laughing at her antics, you untangle yourself from the silky white sheets and rise to your feet.

“i will have your breakfast served here, your highness. i will be back shortly.”

lisa turned on her heel towards the door but briskly changed her mind. she spun in your direction and pointed her finger at you.

“and i better not see you in your bed when i return.”

“is this a threat, lady massey?”

you could not help the smirk that lifted the edges of your mouth and barely held in your laughter.

“take it as you will, princess.”

and with that, she was out of your chambers, leaving you to wash yourself before breakfast came.

shortly after you ate your meal, countless maids entered your bedroom to perform their duty of catering to your needs.

first and foremost, they styled your hair in a traditional targaryen coiffure. they deemed it fit to put some pink powder on your pale skin in hopes of bringing some colour to your face. afterwards, the servants kindly helped you get in your red gown, the long transparent veil sweeping around your figure on the stone flooring. the dress fit you like a glove, the material was soft to the touch, and the added royal jewellery was a sure indication of your status.

“you look divine, your highness.”

hearing lisa’s feathery voice, you turned to see that the two of you were left alone in the room. you hadn’t realised the absence of the other maids. surely, you were out of your head.

your lips stretched into a thin smile.

“thank you, lisa.”

the girl walked to you and embraced you in a solemn hug. she knew you too well for her not to see through your facade. you felt uneasy, and anyone with eyes to see would detect it immediately.

her soft lips pecked you gently on your forehead. you closed your eyes for a moment, grateful that you were gifted with such a precious companion.

“i will leave you now. we will see each other after the celebration. yes?”

you mindlessly hummed in reply, letting go of lisa’s warm hand and saying your goodbyes.

exhaling softly, aerea observed her reflection in the gold-framed mirror.

i look…adequate.

shaking her head, she turned away and stepped to the door, ready to open it.

it is not my duty to be pleasing to the eyes of men.

the guards stationed on the other side of the doorway escorted you to the royal carriage, which was to take you to the port of blackwater bay.

the king was already waiting for his daughter inside, his brows furrowed deeply, his aggravation evident.

sitting next to your father, you queried the matter, which had put him in a temper.

“your brothers decided to stay in the red keep and welcome our dear guests there.”

in reply, you huffed out a short laugh. scanning the streets of king’s landing through the small window, you started picking at the skin around your fingernails. a habit you should have rooted out long ago.

“i am not even the slightest bit surprised by their insolence.”

your father’s silence troubled you, but the road to the bay was short, and you had to ground yourself before you had to step out of this enclosure.

before you realised it, the horse’s trotting halted, signalling your arrival.

your father exited the carriage, you taking your turn after him. he extended his hand to help you down the little steps, you lifting your gown with your left fist.

two maids and a great many white cloaks stood in front of you, waiting to serve you.

the servants took your long veil in their hands, lifting it over the dirty ground.

next to your father’s side, you sauntered towards the port.

your eyes skimmed the horizon, quickly noticing the huge ship sailing your way. an enormous flag danced in the wind, a head of an open-mouthed wolf with its sharp teeth showing.

any moment now, they will throw the anchor and set foot on westeros land.

you stilled your breath; the crew of the royal ship secured the gangplank to the dock.

multiple guards went ashore, moving in formations with their black cloaks fluttering in the breeze.

you held your composure well, not even the slightest shift was evident on your face.

the king of ulthos walked down the railway, his dark royal uniform shining under the sunlight.

your father shook hands with the man as if with an old friend.

your attention was drawn by the other figure setting foot on your land.

so this must be the crown prince.

the tall, pale man stood to his father’s right side, not daring to make eye contact with you.

“welcome to westeros, king jihoon.”

the waves of the calm sea kept crashing against the shore, the laughing gulls flying above the azure waters.

“it is a pleasure, king daeron.”

aerea glanced at the outlandish man, fortuitously meeting his slanted eyes.

daeron turned to his offspring, smiling affirmatively at her.

“my daughter and heir, princess aerea.”

the girl felt stupefied by her father’s proclamation, clearly befuddled at the newly appointed position.

heir? what is the meaning of this?

aerea stepped forward, bowing to the royalty before her.

“it is an honour, your grace.”

king jihoon laughed heartily, taking rea’s arm in his cold hands, making her stand up from the uncomfortable stance she was in.

“there is no need for such acts, princess.”

fixing her posture, she smiled restlessly, a hard line around her lips.

do they not show respect in ulthos? what kind of customs do they have there?

the man turned his head to the right, signalling his son to come to the fore.

“my son, sunghoon. the future king of ulthos.”

this time, you took your time basking in his appearance.

well, he is charming at the very least.

you started your inspection from his raven-dark hair, a few strands falling gently on his forehead, continued to his full eyebrows that framed his face so beautifully, then…

he was already looking at you, a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his luscious lips.

clearing your throat, your right eyebrow twitched; you were absolutely astonished by your foolish mistake.

first meeting, and i already let myself feed his ego.

sunghoon showed his respect to you and your father and returned by his father’s side.

“now, it is time to celebrate your arrival. i have prepared a wonderful surprise, king jihoon.”

“splendid! lead the way, your grace!”

when the royal carriages arrived at the red keep, the small council greeted the king and crown prince of ulthos, your half-brothers present with them.

the feast was about to begin in the gardens of the castle, lords from all of westeros coming to see the outlandish royals and fill their bellies.

you did not think the time to speak with your father was right, adjourning the matter for later.

men filled their mouths with arbor gold wine and dined on duck sausages, while their wives gossiped and indulged in lemon cakes.

you stood near a small table, surrounded by ladies of some of the major houses in the kingdom, not bothering to listen to their witless conversations. until one part of it caught your full attention.

��don’t you think the crown prince is ravishing to look at? he looks quite exotic to me.”

a prolonged series of giggles erupted, causing you to finally join in.

“elaborate on exotic, lady redwyne?”

the blonde-haired woman was stunned by your defensive tone, stammering while replying.

“i did not mean any…offence, your highness.”

you hummed, fixing your gaze on sunghoon’s figure on the opposite side, chattering with a young man, you presumed from his kingdom.

“i am sure you did not. just…wrong choice of words.”

you looked at the young lady, an epitome of vanity standing right in front of you, your intimidating stare making her clench her jaw. you waited for a retort; however, not even a sound could be heard from the gossipmonger.

the tension around the group was evident, prompting you to go somewhere else, where you wouldn’t obstruct their palaver.

“if you excuse me.”

taking your leave, you ambled towards the rosarium. you doubted anyone was there, which meant you would have a moment of solitude.

right then, king daeron seized the moment by raising his glass, gathering the attention of the lords and ladies. everyone stood in silence to hear the king’s toast.

“everyone…we are assembled here today to celebrate events that will change the trajectory of our history. my daughter…”

his chalice was pointed in your direction, heads turned to you, the prime subject of everyone’s heed.

“my daughter and crown prince sunghoon, future king of ulthos are to marry and form an union that will bring our two kingdoms closer together. princess rhaenyra will rule the seven kingdoms and ulthos as the rightful queen of the iron throne alongside prince sunghoon!”

a string of awes and clapping followed, confusion and revelation swirling in your mind. your smile was uncertain; inside, your thoughts were filled with fear and raw emotions; you were unable to demonstrate at the moment.

as you looked up, you saw the two graces embracing each other in a celebratory clasp; sunghoon stood beside them as if waiting for you to make a move.

you beamed at the gentlefolk, all of whom gave you their best wishes.

your father could not see you among the crowd, worry starting to gnaw at him.

unluckily for you, sunghoon saw where you were going just when you turned on your heel and fled the celebration.

the princess was sat on a settee in the rosarium, looking into the abyss that was the now dark sky. she did not catch the approaching footsteps of her fiancé, too deep in thought.

“got startled?”

a gasp left her mouth; she yanked her head in the direction of the unfamiliar deep voice, not even supposing who it belonged to.

aerea straightened herself, clearing her parched throat.

“excuse me?”

sunghoon chuckled at her reply, stepping a bit closer to her figure.

“you chose the wrong moment to run away, princess.”

she sensed his haughty tone, crossing her hands in front of her chest in a defensive mode.

definitely not a good second impression, given he was dead silent earlier today.

“and why is that, prince sunghoon?”

his name felt foreign on her tongue, a bitter feeling creeping up her body.

“that is a silly question.”

“are you insulting me?”

rea didn’t remember him being so close to her, just an arm’s distance away. it seems she was so caught up in the argument, she didn’t feel herself inching closer to him.

should i just slap him? put him in his place and show him that no man can talk to me with that tone?

no! aggression is never the answer, aerea.

he was enjoying himself so much, he couldn’t help the smirk lurking on his lips.

“i never meant to insult you.”

sighing, sunghoon looked around the garden you were in, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“i am afraid we didn’t start on the best terms. it would be better for us to be cooperative. don’t you agree, your highness?”

you gazed to your side, thinking for a short moment.

he is right. but how do i agree without seeming submissive?

while you were fighting your internal battle, sunghoon took his time eyeing you from head to toe. you were beautiful; there was no denying it. but your attitude was quite…aggravating. that would be a hindrance for him.

“there is some truth behind your words… if we want for this marriage to be, uh...fortunate, we should be on speaking terms. at least?”

speaking terms? is that what she wants?

sunghoon ran a hand through his face, clearly perplexed by your words.

you huffed, his demonstrations offending you more than you liked.

he looked you dead in the eyes, no emotion behind them except maybe for a speck of annoyance.

“as you wish.”

you nodded your head and returned to your seat, expecting him to go away and leave you alone so you could curse him under your breath all you want. but he stood rooted to his place, huffing out a breath.

“how long are you going to stay here?”

“however much i want.”

your tone was sharp, teetering his mere vexation to infuriation.

he stood before you, extending his hand.

“come. we must return together.”

you gazed up to see some kind of tenderness in his look.

without a word, you grasped his much larger hand, a shiver running through your spine.

his skin is so cold.

standing up, you hooked your arm around his, your head on a level with his shoulder.

with your fiancé by your side, you were ready to return to the hawks that were the lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms.

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blueblossomrose · 1 day ago

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This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, fem!afab!mc, fluffy, too much fluffy, twst boys with teenage children. And questionable humor, of course. My trademark.

Notes: So, my country is in summer and here in Brazil summer is naturally hot since it's ahem, tropical country, but this year summer has been ABSOLUTE HELL abnormally hot so I need something to keep from going crazy. Preferably air conditioning on 24 hours, but since I don't have that option, I'm going to turn my frustration into fluffy.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Summer Season

The Queendom of Roses had never faced such an intense heat wave. Soon its residents were euphoric, especially certain not-so-eccentric families.

It was frankly absurd. People were already waking up exhausted, walking through the streets like zombies, the heat coming directly from the sun almost like it's melting their brains.

Everything was so hot that it was torture to be outside during the middle of the day.

It got to the point that the air conditioning in Riddle's office simply broke down. He spent the whole day attending to restless children and stressed mothers, amidst sweaty papers and a weak fan that only threw hot air from one side to the other. When he finally got home, sweaty and breathing heavily, his patience was already exhausted.

In this situation, it was absolutely unthinkable to stay home listening to his children complaining about the heat all day. [Name]'s suggestion, said with a carefree smile while fanning her face with a magazine, was that they go to the beach.

Riddle, of course, initially refused. The thought of sand sticking to his skin and the sun that would burn until his whole body was red made him even more exhausted.

But after the insistence of the two of them —his wife and daughter — he had to sigh and give in.

Now, there he was, sitting under a red-and-white striped umbrella, a wide-brimmed hat protecting his fair skin. His blue-gray eyes narrowed as he watched Violete, who was trying to sneak away to the water.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Riddle asked, his voice firm but not exactly stern.

“Uhhh… swimming?” the girl replied, as if it were obvious.

“I told you about that. Not without putting on sunscreen,” Riddle said flatly, pointing to the bottle in the bag next to him. The girl rolled her eyes and grumbled, but eventually reluctantly went back to her mother to apply sunscreen.

Meanwhile, Alex was sitting quietly under the umbrella next to [Name]. He shared the chair with his mother, who laughed softly at Violete's complaints. Alex seemed oblivious to everything, completely immersed in a game on his old blue Gameboy.

Riddle, from time to time, gave his son critical looks. It's not like he hated Alex's appreciation for video games, but God, did he have to have his face buried in that all day?

Alex had been like this since he was 9, when he got his Gameboy, gift from his mother. Now, at 14, he kept the same device, only changing the case from time to time, as if it were a way to personalize his digital adventure companion.

Violete, at sixteen, It was both what you expected and what you didn't expect from a teenager. Energetic and full of life, with a sarcastic and rebellious streak, her excitement was almost contagious. She had her own hobbies which involved video games with her brother as much as books and cricket. She had already jumped into the water as soon as the sunscreen ritual was over.

The short red strands, which she often curled, were now back to their natural state, flowing straight as they got wet. She was swimming happily, challenging small waves, when she noticed a group of people not far away. Two instructors were helping some tourists climb onto a large board, probably part of those leisure programs offered at the beach – canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding, something like that.

Violete swam closer and watched for a moment, until an idea popped into her head. Turning back to the sand, she raised her voice and called: “Dad!”

Riddle, who was finally starting to relax in his chair, looked up suspiciously. “What now?”

“Let’s get on the board together! It’ll be fun!” she shouted.

“Violete, I’m not getting on that board with you,” he replied immediately, with a seriousness that made Alex let out a small muffled laugh on the other side. [Name], next to him, just raised her eyebrows with a look of “let’s see how long you can resist.”

However, Violete was persistent, and his daughter’s insistent expression – the one she clearly inherited from her mother – eventually won out. A few minutes later, Riddle was in the water, visibly uncomfortable as he was guided to the board by a patient instructor and an overly excited daughter.

"This is a bad idea, Violete," he muttered, already feeling regret setting in as he put on a life jacket. "I'm a doctor, I know exactly how many ways this can go wrong."

"Dad, you need to relax!" Violete replied, smiling as she helped him onto the board, where she was already balanced with impressive ease. "It's going to be fun, trust me!"

But before Riddle could argue, the board swayed dangerously, and he grabbed onto his daughter with a suddenness she hadn't expected. "Violette!" he exclaimed, desperately trying to steady himself.

"Dad, you're pulling me under!" she protested, as she tried to steady them both. Riddle, for his part, was focused on not falling into the water, which seemed increasingly inevitable.

He looked back, seeing [Name] on the sand, waving at them with an amused smile. Alex didn't even look – the sound of the Gameboy buttons continued, indifferent to the family chaos that was happening in the sea.

The minutes when Violette guided the board towards the waves were the moments when Riddle despaired the most, although they managed to at least catch a good wave, even though they were completely unbalanced.

Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, the inevitable happened. The board rocked to one side, then the other, and they both fell into the water with a big splash.

When he emerged, wet and irritated, but also, to his surprise, smiling, Riddle heard Violete's crystal-clear laugh.

"See, Dad? It was fun, wasn't it?!" her hands hit the water splashing more water on him.

"Ugh, stop!" even while complaining, Riddle was smiling, sometimes returning the splashes of water on his daughter.

"Huh? Where are dad and Vi?" Alex questioned as he lifted his head, [Name] laughed and pointed, just long enough for Alex to see his dad and sister catch a wave together before falling into the water again. Riddle was almost as desperate as you could imagine while Violete was in front on the board with the biggest smile in the world. A frankly hilarious frame.

The blazing midday sun seemed even more intense that unusual summer in the Queendom of Roses. The oppressive heat made even going out for simple activities like shopping at the Clover bakery a challenge. Still, the frozen treats that Trey made had become a sensation. Artisanal ice cream, fresh fruit pies, and refreshing drinks were flying off the shelves.

One afternoon, sitting at the small oak table in the back of the bakery, Trey rubbed his sweaty forehead as he watched his children play. Tim and Thomas were more interested in hanging out by the fan, while Rose ran around with seemingly inexhaustible energy despite the heat. He glanced over at [Name], who was waving a makeshift paper fan and mumbling something about how hot it's outside. It was then that an idea struck him.

How about take a trip to the falls?

A cool, peaceful place, and the perfect local to cool off.

Rose, being the youngest, immediately jumped up and down with excitement, Tim and Thomas, on the other hand, teenagers already at an age where they'd rather stay home with their phones or their own hobbies, didn't seem so excited. But family trip is mandatory, after all. It was an agreement they made with their parents.

Trey and [Name] arrived at the trailhead with their children, each carrying light backpacks filled with towels, snacks, and bottles of water. Rose bounced excitedly ahead, her small backpack bouncing as she droned on and on about how the waterfalls would be.

Tim, the oldest, trailed slowly, already sweating in the heat, his expression clearly reflecting his displeasure with the hike. “Why couldn’t we just buy ice cream and stay home with the fan on?” he muttered, earning an amused look from Trey.

Thomas, on the other hand, was somewhere in between, half-interested in the hike but clearly dead tired. He walked with his hands in his pockets, backpack and bag on the shoulder.

After a while, the trail opened up to reveal the waterfall. The view was spectacular: crystal clear water cascaded down, creating a refreshing mist that immediately took the edge off the heat. The surrounding vegetation was dense, with bright green leaves and colorful wildflowers that looked even more vivid in the sun.

Rose ran towards the shore, stopping only when Trey called her, asking her to wait while he and [Name] found a good spot for the towel. Tim, sighing, threw himself into the shade of a large rock, lying down like a sack of potatoes. “Wake me up when we leave,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from [Name].

Thomas, however, took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed a handful of cold water and silently approached Rose. “Hey, Rose, look up!” he shouted, pointing to the top of the waterfall. When his sister looked up, he splashed her with ice-cold water, making her squeal.

“Thomas!” she protested, but she was already splashing him back, starting a water fight that soon involved Trey trying to calm them both down so that they wouldn't fall and hurt themselves on the rocks.

Meanwhile, [Name] was standing next to Tim, offering him a bottle of cool water. "You know you're going to want to get in the water soon," she said.

Tim opened a lazy eye. "Only if someone carries me there."

After a while, Tim gave in to the heat and joined his brothers in the water. Trey and [Name] watched, relaxing on the towel on the floor. Thomas and Rose were now trying to build a "dam" with rocks and branches, while Tim stood nearby, pretending not to care but discreetly helping them find the right branches.

As the time has passed, Trey stood up, adjusting his glasses and getting everyone's attention. "Time for a snack!" he announced, grabbing a small cooler with fruit, sandwiches, and some homemade pastries from the bakery.

Rose was the first to run, still dripping watee, while Thomas and Tim followed her. Like three Gremlins, they sat down and ate despite shivering from the cold from the thermal shock of the ice-cold water on the hot climate.

The end of the afternoon was spent peacefully, with the family resting and enjoying the relaxing sound of the waterfall. When they finally started to pack up their things, Rose complained that she wanted to stay a little longer, but Trey promised that they could return soon, eliciting a smile from her. The walk back was less lively – tiredness had finally taken over the trio, mainly Rose who was the central animation. Trey, with a soft smile, carried her backpack along with his, while [Name] chuckled softly at the funny observations her tired daughter even so made about every detail of the trail.

The hot season brought with it an unexpected relief from Cater’s hectic schedule. The scorching sun made everyone crave a break, and for him, that meant finishing work early and finding something more exciting to do with his family. After all, there was nothing worse than a interview in the sweltering heat, with people feeling sweaty and uncomfortable.

With an excited smile, Cater dragged his wife [Name] and children, Astrid and Rory, to a nature reserve by the sea. The place was perfect for disconnecting from the world. It offered ample space to swim and even snorkel with some of the sea creatures, creating a relaxing atmosphere full of photo opportunities that he loved to capture.

Astrid quickly raised her hand, as if she had asked an important question. “Can I swim with the sharks?” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, her light orange hair lightly blowing in her face as she looked anxiously at her parents.

“Why on earth would you want to swim with sharks?” Rory replied.

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh, trying to lighten the situation. “I’m glad you want to go on an adventure, dear, but I think it would be better to start with something lighter, don’t you think?” she looked at Astrid with a calm smile.

Astrid grimaced, not completely convinced, crossing her arms and looking at her parents as if she were going to continue the argument. But before she could complain any further, a hand appeared underneath her, lifting her off the ground with ease. Cater placed her on his back, with Astrid laughing and squealing with excitement.

"Hey, hey! No arguing, let's just enjoy the moment, how about seeing the manta rays?" Cater suggested. "They like getting close to humans, and they're super harmless. It'll be really cool."

Astrid, with her face already lit up with a wide smile, put the grimace aside, agreeing with her father. She was excited about the idea, even more than with the sharks. Rory, still suspicious, looked at his sister and then at his parents, with a slight sigh. He couldn't deny that their enthusiasm was contagious.

And so the family began their walk to the water sports area, with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks and the summer heat enveloping them all. Cater was happy to be sharing this moment with his wife and children, finally having some time to relax and enjoy life outside the chaos of journalistic work. Over the years, he has learned to appreciate life off-screen more.

To escape the hell that was the city that day, Ace decided that the best solution would be to take his family to a nearby river. Nothing too elaborate, but at least there they could cool off without having to spend a fortune on cold drinks or abuse his magic with cooling spells, which were a luxury that he, as someone from the ministry's accounting department, was not willing to abuse.

For a while, everything went peacefully. [Name] took off her shoes and dipped her feet in the water, relaxing as she watched her children venture further ahead. Lilian had already tied her orange-red hair into a ponytail, while Jasper stood with his arms crossed, evaluating whether it was worth getting in the water or if it would be more fun to tease his sister. Ace, on the other hand, already had his feet submerged and was throwing some water up, enjoying the coolness.

It was then that, out of nowhere, the tranquility was broken.

“So, Dad,” Lilian began, crossing her arms and giving him an inquisitive look, “How many girlfriends did you have before Mom?”

Ace blinked in confusion as he finished stretching in the water. “What? Where did that question come from?”

"You had a girlfriend before mom. And you didn't think to tell us, huh?"

Ace glanced sideways at [Name], who just chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation.

“What have you been telling them?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Me? Nothing!” [Name] replied with an innocent smile. “But your brother loves to tell stories.”

Ace groaned softly. His brother... he should have known.

"Lili, I didn't even know your mother when I broke up with this girlfriend!" he tried to argue to see if his daughter would change the subject.

But Lilian quickly dodged him and kept her accusatory expression. "Even so!" she insisted, now going closer to her mother, as if seeking reinforcement. "Uncle said you were a jerk to mom in the beginning! And what about the other girl?! You were nice to her?!"

Ace ran his hand over his face in disbelief. He had faced powerful adverse situations, being a troublemaker at school… but nothing compared to the fury of a teenage daughter determined to seek justice for her mother.

"Is this an interrogation?" he asked, raising his hands in surrender.

"It depends on your answer," Lilian replied with a frown.

"Look, I wasn't the easiest guy to deal with back then," Ace admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wasn't that bad either, okay?"

"What does that mean?!" Lilian insisted.

Ace sighed. "You know what? I'll ask your uncle what else he's been telling you. I mean, I should be enjoying the water, not defending my reputation from sixteen years ago!"

"Maybe if you hadn't been such a jerk, you wouldn't have to defend yourself now," Jasper scoffed.

"Are you two going to go swimming or keep tormenting me?"

Lilian and Jasper exchanged glances and, without warning, threw water at their father at the same time, this one who gasped offendedly.

"Sweetie, don't be so hard on your father," [Name] intervened, placing her hand gently on Lilian's hair, who was still pouting. "He wasn't perfect, but he learned a lot. And he certainly wasn't the only one who made mistakes." she chuckled, stroking her daughter's hair. "Although he really deserves some of the karma, I'd say."

"Oh, for the love of—!" Ace exclaimed, feigning indignation, while Jasper, on the other side, burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the situation. Ace an his wet hands over his face, as if that could alleviate the embarrassment. "This is absurd! Look here, I wasn't that horrible! What are you three trying to do to me, huh? A public lynching? Lili, I promise you, the only woman I've ever truly loved was your mother. No other woman has ever made me feel like she did, you little brat."

Lilian was still frowning. "Really?" she asked, a little suspicious.

"More than serious," he replied, with that carefree expression he always used when he tried to seem convincing. "And do you know what happens to those who don't believe in their dads?"

Before Lilian could react, Ace grabbed her by the waist, in a quick and agile movement, dragging her straight into the water.

She let out a high-pitched scream, taking everyone by surprise. "DAD!" she shouted, between laughter and protests, as she tried to free herself.

Water splashed around, and Lilian, now soaking wet, laughed loudly as she struggled to escape her father's embrace, but Ace, laughing along, held her tight. "Do you doubt me? Do you really think I don't love your mother?"

"I never said that!" Lilian replied, laughing and trying to balance herself. "But that doesn't justify throwing me in the water!"

Ace chuckled once more, releasing her and raising his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, little brat. Just don't question my love for you too."

The unbearable heat that had never been seen before in Queendom of Roses was demanding drastic measures from Deuce. He even thought about taking his family to a place like a beach or a river, but when he got home, he found an unexpected scene in the backyard.

The sound of children's laughter and water jets echoed in the hot air. His children and his wife were completely absorbed in the refreshing game with the garden hose. Matthew, in colorful shorts, held the hose tightly, laughing loudly as he shot jets of water in the direction of his mother and brother. Raphael, smaller and more agile, tried to escape by running clumsily, but was hit full on in the chest, making him let out a shrill laugh. [Name] was also soaked, her white blouse now stuck to her body due to the water, and strands of hair stuck to her face as she laughed, trying to shield herself behind her youngest son.

The scene are completely chaotic.

"Hey!" Deuce's voice broke the moment, firm and unexpected. His serious expression made Matthew's eyes widen and lowered the hose, "What are you doing getting your mother and brother wet like that, Matthew?" Deuce asked, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Dad, we were just-" Matthew started to justify himself, but was interrupted by Deuce snatched the hose from his hands and held it tightly.

A mischievous glint crossed his determined gaze, the same look he used to have in their old delinquent phase. "It has to be this way!" He turned the hose directly on Matthew and Raphael, blasting them with a jet of water strong enough to make them scream and laugh at the same time.

Matthew tried to run away, but Deuce was spot on—he aimed right at the boy’s back, making him squirm in surprise. Raphael, laughing nervously, tried to hide behind his mother, but Deuce quickly changed his target, and soon a cold jet hit [Name] as well. “Deuce!” she shouted, laughing as she raised her arms in a futile attempt to defend herself. “It's not fair!”

“Of course it's fair,” he snapped, amused by the general confusion that ensued. The boys joined in, trying to grab the hose from their father, but Deuce was faster and dodged it easily.

[Name] took advantage of a moment of distraction to run to a forgotten bucket in the corner of the garden. Before Deuce knew it, she had filled it and poured the water straight over his head. The shock of the icy water made Deuce hold his breath for a moment.

"Ah, now you've done it," he murmured, a smile breaking across his face before he charged at them, picking [Nome] up, making her squeal as he picked up the hose from the floor. Raphael and Matthew ran to escape, but Deuce was too fast to them. Within seconds, they were all completely soaked, laughing as if the unbearable heat had been forgotten.

Eventually, the garden became a water war zone, if it wasn't already before.

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moonandst4rs · 2 days ago

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“She’s always a woman to me”

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Masterlist

AARON HOTCHNER X F!READER

WC: 673

Summary: Aaron sees you for you. He sees the woman behind the job

Warnings / Content: Inspired by She's always a woman - Billy Joel. no use of y/n, no dialogue

A/N: Feel free to ask questions or simply chat. Any feedback and requests are welcome !! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

Being a woman is hard. Being a woman in power, working as a Section Chief in the FBI only magnifies the weight you carry. It isn’t just the job, it’s about navigating Bureaucratic nonsense. You have to balance authority with expectations, from yourself and others. Five teams. Five different teams of personalities, skills and egos yjay you have to manage day in and day out. Some are polite and show you respect—others, not so much. Aaron Hotchner’s team, to their credit, are professional. Mostly.

You’ve grown tough over the years. You had to. The world doesn’t let women in your position be soft without paying the price. If you’d let yourself be trampled, ignored, or undermined even once, you wouldn’t be here now, standing tall as Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The toughness, it isn’t armour, it’s more like something you’ve learned to carry with grace. You got here by knowing exactly when to hold your ground and when to bend, ever so slightly, so the world doesn’t break you. From a wide-eyed field agent to Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you’ve learned that balance. And you’ve learned how to carry the weight of other people’s lives along the way.

You do your job well. You’re proud of that. You make decisions not just for today, but for the future, for the safety of your agents, your teams. You’re steady, calm under pressure, always managing to keep the pieces from falling apart. You have to. But not everyone sees it that way. For some, you’ll always be the one in the way, the one enforcing rules they don’t want to follow. They call you harsh, cold, rigid. They talk about how you won’t let them work however they want. They forget there’s a reason the rules are there, a reason you stand so firm.

The names they call you, the insults, the accusations, they don’t hurt like they used to. There was a time when you’d lie awake at night, wondering if they were right. Now, you barely blink when they throw words your way. If anything, you’ve become somewhat detached, wishing, in a darkly amused way, that they would at least get creative. Give you something new to roll your eyes at. You’ve heard it all before. The same tired jabs, the same predictable bitterness. They don’t know how strong you really are, and they never will. Not the way Aaron does.

Aaron. He’s always there, quietly watching. He knows you can take it, he knows you’ve taken far worse, and that you’ll keep taking it because you refuse to let them see you falter. But even so, he insisted stepping in. Not always, and not in ways that make a scene, but it was enough. Enough to remind you that you don’t have to fight every battle alone. He challenges the ones who disrespect you when you’re not looking, stands by you when the weight of the world starts to feel a little too heavy. And even though you never asked for his protection, you’ve come to realize it’s something more. Something softer, something that breaks through the noise and makes you feel…seen.

You never wanted anyone to fight for you. You don’t need it. You’ve spent your life proving that you’re more than capable of fighting for yourself. But Aaron doesn’t fight to save you; he fights to remind you that you’re worth protecting. And in those moments, when his quiet strength meets yours, you realize just how much that means to you. More than you’d ever let on.

Despite everything, the long nights, the endless pushback, the harsh words, you keep going. Not because you’re unbreakable, but because you know what’s at stake. You fight for your teams because they deserve it. You stand firm because that’s who you are, and because you believe in the work you do, even when others don’t see it. And maybe, just maybe, because you know that there’s someone, someone like Aaron, who sees the woman behind the title.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x f!reader #Spotify

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gasogene · 1 day ago

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as i don't want to completely hijack this post, i've decided to type out several of the letters in the book letters to sherlock holmes by richard lancelyn green in a post of my own. thank you again to @hesagoodone for the interest; i do hope the rest of the fandom enjoys these, as well! these are the five letters i had added to the aforementioned post but i will be reblogging this a few times over with more, so stay tuned... it's been so very hard to choose my favorites!

under the read-more you will also find a brief history from one of the many people hired to be sherlock holmes' personal secretary during a 50+ year period where 221B baker street was receiving an enormous influx of letters from those that hoped & those that believed sherlock holmes, the great consulting detective, was real—living & breathing.

Dear Reader,

Letters addressed to Sherlock Holmes have been answered by the staff of the Abbey National Building Society for over fifty years and I am the latest to serve as his secretary.

The head office, Abbey House, stands in Baker Street and includes the number 221 which many would say is the site of the rooms which Holmes shared with Dr Watson. The present building was opened in 1932 as the headquarters of what was then the Abbey Road Building Society, but which in 1944 took its present name following the merger with the National Building Society. In 1951 it housed the Sherlock Holmes Exhibition which was arranged by the St Marylebone Public Library as a contribution to the Festival of Britain. The Exhibition included a reconstruction of the famous sitting-room, which won wide acclaim, being visited by over half a million people, including Queen Mary.

Letters still arrive in large quantities, and during my time in office, Mr Holmes has received post from every quarter of the globe. There are fan letters, birthday wishes, Christmas cards (one each year is from Dr Watson), invitations to give lectures or attend weddings. Sometimes he learns that he is the potential winner of a fortune or that he has been specially selected to receive a trial subscription to a well-known periodical, but by far the largest number of letters contain details of intriguing mysteries. He is asked to trace, as it may be, a peanut thief in Kansas or to bring to justice the chopstick murderer of Nagasaki or to end the nuclear arms race. A few bring news of Professor Moriarty some claiming that he has been spotted boarding a train in Neasden or that he is responsible for the theft of a painting from the Dulwich Gallery. Others again wish to know intimate details of the detective's private life. Was he left- or right-handed? Did he dislike gooseberry jam? Did he once wound Mrs Hudson in the foot while cleaning a revolver? And did Mycroft Holmes wear glasses?

These and other questions are hard to answer, and I have to remind his correspondents that Holmes is now spending much of his time in Sussex and is rarely, if ever, on hand to deal with the queries himself. But I know that he appreciates all the kind comments made about him and is touched by the evidence of the high regard in which he is held.

He will always reside at 221B Baker Street, but if the Abbey National Building Society has been able to play its part in sustaining his tenancy then that is a cause for satisfaction. I certainly enjoy the work and could not wish for a better or more distinguished employer.

Best wishes.

Yours faithfully

Sue Brown

Secretary to Sherlock Holmes

A Bee-Keeper's Offer of Assistance

10 October 1904 W.B.C. Apiary Old Bedford Road Luton, Beds. Dear Sir, I see by some of the morning papers that you are about to retire and take up beekeeping. I know not if this be correct or otherwise, but if correct I shall be pleased to render you service by giving any advice you may require. I make this offer in return for the pleasure your writings gave me as a youngster, they enabled me to spend many and many a happy hour. Therefore I trust you will read this letter in the same spirit that it is written. Yours respectfully, W. Herrod

A Housekeeper for Sherlock Holmes

10 October 1904 c/o The Hon. P. Cranstoun Hurst Hill House Totland Bay, Isle of Wight To Sir Conan Doyle, Bart, Will 'Mr Sherlock Holmes' require a housekeeper for his country cottage at Xmas? I know someone, who loves a quiet country life, and 'Bees' especially, an old-fashioned quiet woman. Yours faithfully, M. Gunton

Request for an Autograph

18 November 1904 9 Eriswell Road, Worthing Dear Sir, I trust I am not trespassing too much on your time and kindness by asking for the favour of your autograph to add to my collection. I have derived much pleasure from reading your Memoirs, and should very highly value the possession of your famous signature. Trusting you will see your way to thus honour me, and venturing to thank you very much in anticipation. I am, Sir, Your obedient Servant, Charles Wright P.S. Not being aware of your present address, I am taking the liberty of sending this letter to Sir A. Conan Doyle, asking him to be good enough to forward it to you. Sherlock Holmes Esq.

Sherlock Holmes in Indiana

December 1954 Indianapolis, Indiana, USA Dear Sherlock Holmes, When I go to Europe, I want to see your house on Baker Street. My father read me 'The Speckled Band', 'The Six Napoleons', and 'The Red-Headed League'. I hope he reads me more. You're quite clever at solving cases. When I grow up, I'm going to belong to the 'Sherlock Holmes Club'. I read about you in the comics, in the newspapers, too. My sister and I play 'Sherlock Holmes', but I have to be Watson. We have two long-haired dachounds [sic] and when we play 'Sherlock Holmes', we pretend that they are bloodhounds. A magazine said you went to Indiana, USA. Did you? Sincerely, Betsy Rosasco

Lyn Satterstrom's Letter

September 1959 Richfield, Minnesota, USA Dear Sir, Although I have been told that you do not really exist, as have the other members of my English class, I still think that somehow you do. In the hearts of all those who read about your wonderful exploits in the world of solving crime, you do exist, as surely as the typewriter on which I write surely does exist — although my typewriting is a far cry from your great feats of crime detection. I realize you are shy when it comes to a lot of praise, so I will just say that you can never know how proud your readers are of you — that is, all but the detectives who read Dr Watson's stories just to help them solve their own crimes. Dr Watson said that you are — or were, as the case may be — a rather messy housekeeper. But even your messy stacks of news clippings have helped you to solve crimes, haven't they? There are suspicious-looking characters around all the time, and some people think you should come to this country to investigate. I have told them repeatedly, of course, that you are much too busy to bother with the crimes of America when you can help your own country. Well, actually, the reason I wrote is because I want to receive a letter from you so that I will know if you are still living and advancing the detective profession, or if you have passed on the road to happiness. If you are not living, would you kindly let me know? The rest of my English class is anxiously awaiting your letter also. Did you really do all the things that Dr Watson said you did? Some of the crimes and mysteries you solved seem almost impossible. Well, I must leave you to your work. In your next spare second or so, would you drop — preferably mail — me a note (by this I mean a letter, of course)? Thank you ever so much. Sincerely, Lyn Satterstrom

#acd sherlock #margins

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runnning-outof-time · 1 day ago

Note

K, I ran to your inbox the moment I saw you'd opened requests again! Could I pls request a blurb using this gif + the prompt "Working together again. Just like old times" as inspo? Only if you feel inspired tho, if not, feel free to ignore it.

I can always count on you to hype me up and help me out whenever I’m in need, Lee, and I’m deeply appreciative of that. 💛 Thanks so very much for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a bit for me to post it…I hope I did it justice! 😊

Like Old Times

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: Arthur goes behind his brother’s back and seeks out (Y/N) for a plan.

Word Count: 1146

Warnings: none

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you thought of the story!

“Finally came to your senses, I see,” (Y/N) commented as she realized who it was standing in the archway of her sitting room. “Come, sit. Have a drink with me.”

Arthur Shelby stood, frozen for a moment or two longer. He clenched his peaked cap in his hands, his knuckles growing white as he contemplated whether or not was actually doing to do this. Was he actually going to turn his back on his brother?

“I…I just wanted ta…” he was a fumbling mess, his hesitance spilling out into his words.

“You can skip the explanation, Arthur,” she cut his babbling off. Her stern voice had him standing straight; almost like he’d just been called to attention. (Y/N) grinned when she noticed that she - still - had that effect on him. “Are you with me or not?” she asked then, a slight grin playing on her lips.

“I’m with you,” he nodded his head, sounding more sure now.

“Good,” (Y/N) nodded as well, “now come and sit. I’d still like to have a drink with you,” she attempted to coax him over again.

This time he listened. (Y/N) offered a closed mouth smile and a glass as he sat down in the seat across from her. Arthur accepted it, his eyes locked on her as he slowly brought the glass up to his lips and took a drink.

“So how are we going about it?” (Y/N) asked, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her chair again.

“I…” he had to pause and clear his voice, hating how shaky it sounded as it came out, “I’m not sure if Tommy will, uh….I’m not sure he’ll appreciate anyone going against him,” he was finally able to voice his worry on the situation.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed as she heard what Arthur had to say. Silence hung between the two for a few moments before the slightest smile formed on her lips.

“What’s…what’s that smile for?” Arthur asked hesitantly.

“Tommy’s not going to have a choice in this matter, Arthur,” (Y/N) responded, her smile growing as she spoke.

“What do you mean?” he still wasn’t understanding what she was getting at.

“If I’m remembering what you said correctly…” she began, sitting up a little bit straighter in her seat before continuing, “he put you in charge of the Eden Club, right?”

“He did.”

“And so you’re the one who gets the final say in what happens there, right?” she asked another question.

“I am,” he was slowly starting to understand.

“And why else on Earth would you’ve come to me if not to get a second opinion on what the Peaky Blinders’d like the club to look like?” her grin was ear to ear now.

I miss spending time with you, was what Arthur wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that to her, not yet at least.

He kicked himself every single day for mishandling his and (Y/N)’s relationship. She was without a doubt the best thing that had happened to him, and yet he still managed to make a mess out of what they once had together. She stuck by him when the Shelby name meant nothing; when Arthur was trying everything he could to make sure his family survived after the war ended.

But then he chose the company over her. It was hard for him not to at the time…Tommy wanted him one-hundred percent invested, and Arthur was determined to show his brother that he also meant business. But meaning business meant personal matters fell to the back burner. (Y/N) wouldn’t have that, so she gave him the ultimatum: split his time better or she leaves. The end result was the latter.

“Arthur?” her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” the noise he made told her that he hadn’t heard what she said.

“I asked you about the vision you had for the club,” she repeated herself, not questioning the reason behind his zoning out, “were you thinking more traditional or modern?”

Arthur felt himself relax as he realized she actually wanted to get into discussion on the club’s appearance. He was worried she would want to re-hash past grievances. But she was ready to get to work, and he was thankful for it.

So get to work they did.

It wasn’t until they got to a pause in their conversation that Arthur realized he hadn’t had much of his drink. He was so engulfed in their shared ideas and her excitement for the upcoming projects that he didn’t so much as think of the thing that he so frequently used as a crutch.

“We laid a pretty adequate groundwork for the club so far, don’t you think?” (Y/N) asked, scribbling a few more things down in the notebook she’d grabbed for the occasion.

“I think so,” Arthur agreed, a grin on his face.

“Look at us, Arthur…” she started, a smile on her face as he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting to hear what else she had to say, “working together again…just like old times.”

Her smile grew as she finished her statement, watching as Arthur raisied his drink in a nonverbal agreement. He took a big swig from it then, enjoying the burn it brought as the liquid travelled down his throat.

“What if…” he started, clearing his throat in hopes he’d sound more confident, “what if I took ya to the club sometime?”

“So I could get a better idea of what we’re working with?” (Y/N) questioned, tilting her head to the side slightly.

“No, uh…” Arthur paused again, feeling silly because obviously she’d take his offer in that light, they’d only been discussing the plans on renovating the club for the last hour or so. “I was thinkin’…I was thinkin’ you and I could go there together. Like…like I could take you there and we could…”

“Arthur Shelby, are you asking me on a date?” she cut into his sheepish babbling, her eyebrows raised as a smile teetered on her lips.

“I, uh…” he let out a sheepish laugh, taking a deep breath and finding her eyes, “I guess I am,” he ended his statement with a smile, waiting on bated breath for her response.

Seconds felt like hours as they passed. (Y/N) wanted to make sure that she was making the right choice. She couldn’t deny that she had missed him. Him showing up and asking her for help at the club surprised her, sure, but she was overjoyed to be able to see him again. And now he was asking her out…maybe this was a chance to start anew.

So, her smile widened as she finally opened her mouth to give her answer, “I’d love to go with you, Arthur.”

Post note: I can’t seem to stop writing Arthur as a stuttering fool when around the woman he has feelings for….I just really think he’d act that way in said situation

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @succubaby @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby blurb #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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nipotazzi · 3 days ago

Text

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. - Chapter 1

"C’mon, Lusk! It's just a little jump!”

“We’ll be here to grab you in case something goes wrong, sweetie!”

The little child looked all the way up there: his mothers were just ahead, he only needed to make a smooth super jump to reach them. He tries to calculate the distance and necessary strength for it, but for some reason, the results are utterly inconclusive.

“No silly math! You just have to do it!”

Silly? Math isn't silly. Still, maybe momma Pearl was right: he just had to try it, if he wanted to succeed.

Lusk takes a deep breath, one of the first behavioral lessons given him by the creator to ease himself to calm… and begins to run, faster and faster with each consecutive step!

Halfway through, he quickly changes into his very small swim form, then charges the tentacles like a spring… and jumps!

He makes sure to not use his floating abilities in this form to cheat, and while taking this precaution Lusk realizes that he's already far, far high in the air: He's so much faster than gravity! He can do it! He can reach them!!

He's… slowing down.

He can't do it.

That shouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened if…

No. Take a deep breath.

Smollusk knows that they will just say something along the lines of “better than nothing at all,” and that he’ll “get better at it in no time, you just need to try it more.”

Disheartened, but resigned to such a result, like always, he begins to float towards them in order to avoid the fall.

But something tugs his tentacles.

He looks down, and sees a chain, as long as his sight can go, attached to his body.

Lusk immediately tries to slip away from it, but nothing happens. His small size cannot handle the sudden extreme weight brought upon it. He searches upwards, starting to grow scared, but the only thing that exchanges his pleading eyes… are the disappointed and clearly annoyed looks on the faces of his mothers.

“C-creator! CREATOR!! HELP ME!”

“...why?”

“W-what?”

“Yeah, why should we?”

Lusk freezes, terrified of the cold tone of her creator.

“Look, Marina! Little kid can't even make a jump this easy. I'm soooo embarrassed to think that we’ve been taking care of such a monstrous failure.”

“Oh, Pearlie, no need to be so rude. We all know that this… mistake… is just one delusion after the other.”

“N-no! No!! I'm not a mistake! I-I’ll be better, I promise! Please!!”

“Are you crying now? Tsk-tsk… how pathetic. Let's go, Rina, don't even look at it.”

“Make way… I don’t want to stay a millisecond longer than I need to.”

“NO! WAIT! WAAIIIITTT!!!”

Lusk falls down, the chain trapping him tighter. It's a bottomless fall, where his screams could echo for eternity. There is nothing else, but the weight of his failures, bringing him down.

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/F

Gen

Fandom:

Splatoon (Video Games)

Relationship:

Marina/Pearl (Splatoon)

Characters:

Agent 8 (Splatoon)

Dedf1sh | Acht (Splatoon)

Pearl (Splatoon)

Marina (Splatoon)

Order | Smollusk (Splatoon)

The Heavenly Melody (Splatoon)

Additional Tags:

Christ(squid)mas special

half wholesome half angst with a good ending

self trauma due to personal delusions

Angst with a Happy Ending

Family Feels

Family Bonding

Family Drama

Family Dynamics

first time moms

Post-Splatoon 3: Side Order

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Language: English

Summary: Pearl and Marina are always trying to be the best moms a kid could ever wish for, and if there is something that they really don't want to mess up… is their Lusk's first experience of the most wonderful time of the year! But will the family be able to help him work trough his own fears at the strongest that they have ever been?

Happy New Year everyone! As always, comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated. Have a good day!

#writing #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 link #splatoon #side order #pearl houzuki #marina ida #pearlina #off the hook #agent 8 #acht dedf1sh #smollusk #symphony in fortissimo agitando

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bellaxgiornata · 23 hours ago

Text

Want to Know You Better 1:|Bad Impressions

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; investigative journalist!Reader, bodyguard!Jax, enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, eventual smut, slow burn, angst

summary: For over a year you had been tracking Aleksander Petrova through California–a Russian crime lord known to abduct sex workers for his trafficking ring. Seven months ago, he disappeared from the L.A. area, but a series of missing women in Northern California catches your attention, drawing you to Charming in the hopes of linking enough evidence together to once again get the FBI involved. But when the Sons’ President makes a terrible first impression before inserting himself into your work, your investigation turns into more than you anticipated.

a/n: I couldn't resist an enemies to lovers fic with Jax also determined to stubbornly be Readers' self-appointed bodyguard. I'm very much in the Jax mindset lately... Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

tag list: @kmc1989

“Well, it has been a bit, man,” Happy agreed with Opie.

Jax took a pull off of his beer as the table of Sons around him broke into a fit of laughter at his expense. The thunderous noise of their amusement drowned out the classic rock playing in the bar they’d settled at tonight. For once they found themselves drinking somewhere other than at the clubhouse. Tonight, they were at The Alley, a dive bar in downtown Charming. Having just finished a meeting here with Marks, they had all collectively decided to stay and enjoy a few more rounds before heading back.

Jax rolled his eyes at the Sons’ teasing, not exactly taking their bullshit personally. They’d had a rough past few weeks and were just trying to unwind for the night. He knew that.

“Got nothin’ to say in your defense, Jackie boy?” Chibs asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Ya suddenly gone celibate?”

Swallowing down his beer, Jax shrugged as he lowered the bottle back to the table. A smug grin drew itself over his lips before he answered. “What can I say? I’ve just been busy,” he told the guys. “Pussy hasn’t exactly been top priority on my mind lately.”

A round of disbelief flew from around the table next, the noise only causing Jax’s grin to grow wider. It was true, though. He really hadn’t been concerning himself with getting laid over the past few weeks, too focused and stressed over club business to have even thought about it. He honestly had been so caught up in everything that he hadn’t even realized how long it had been since he’d last taken a girl to his bed.

“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Bobby joked.

“Or you’re just going soft on us, Pres,” Tig quipped.

One of Jax’s brows arched up onto his forehead at that comment. Going soft? Now that was absolute bullshit.

“Don’t be a jackass,” Jax replied. “I’m not losing nothing, and I sure as shit have not gone soft, Tig.”

A glint of mischief surfaced in Tig’s eyes at Jax’s response. He leaned forward, resting his elbows along the table as a teasing grin slipped onto his face. “Oh no?” he questioned. “You haven’t? You…willing to make a bet on that, Jax?”

Jax settled back in his chair, his hands folding in front of himself as he studied the man. The entire table of Sons had fallen silent at Tig’s question, intrigue hanging thick between them all. Jax never backed down from a challenge, they all knew that.

“Yeah,” Jax answered easily. “I am. What do you have in mind, Tig?”

“Oh, shit,” Opie muttered with a chuckle, running a hand through his beard.

“Now this is getting good,” Chibs added, gesturing his beer at Tig. “Let’s hear it, brother.”

Tig straightened in his chair, his focus remaining fixed on Jax across the table from him. That mischievous glint in his eye hadn’t yet faded.

“Alright then, Jax. You wanna prove you haven’t gone soft on us? I bet you to get a girl from this bar onto the back of your bike and show her a good time in your bed before we’re finished here tonight,” Tig challenged. “And I’m clarifying that it’s gotta be a broad of our choosing, not yours. No easy pickings.”

A chorus of ‘ooh’ and ‘oh shit’ was muttered around the table as all of the Sons’ eyes darted between Jax and Tig as the bet was laid out. Jax didn’t look remotely fazed by it, though. Instead, he easily drew his beer up to his lips, finishing the last of it before he set the bottle back down on the table.

“You’re on,” Jax replied, a confident grin tugging at his lips. “I guarantee I can get any girl in here on my bike in fifteen minutes or less easily.” He jutted his chin at Tig before he continued, that cocky tone of his growing. “What do I get when I win?”

Tig took a moment, as if he was thinking about the answer, mulling it over for a minute. “Give you three hundred bucks,” he finally answered. “Plus, you get laid. But–” he held up a finger, that glint in his eyes still lingering, “–if you lose, we collectively get to think of some form of embarrassing punishment for you.”

That gave Jax pause for a moment, one hand running through the scruff along his chin. Not that he remotely doubted his ability to get a girl in his bed by any means, but the possibility that they might pick some chick that he somehow would not be able to charm didn’t sit well with him. Because he could only imagine what embarrassing ‘punishment’ the guys would love to force on him.

“You’re hesitating, Jax,” Bobby pointed out.

With a roll of his eyes, Jax sat forward in his chair. “Of course I’m in,” he accepted without another thought, the confidence returning. “This is going to be stupid easy anyway.”

“Aye, well,” Chibs said, shaking his head at his President. “Don’t forget, Jackie, the girls here are normal broads. Not the kind at the clubhouse. Or Diosa or the porn studio.”

Opie shook with silent laughter on the other side of Jax, one of his hands reaching out to lightly nudge his best friend. “That’s right,” he agreed. “These girls aren’t pre-warmed and ready for your advances, brother.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Jax replied, waving the comment off. “Who the hell would say no to some time with this face?”

Another round of raucous laughter erupted from the table and Jax grinned wider at the sound. He had no doubt that he’d find a way to charm any woman the guys ultimately picked. Didn’t matter if she wasn’t a croweater, he’d find a way. He knew he was attractive and he had the confidence to go with it. He’d make it happen. There was no way in hell he’d lose the bet.

“Great,” Tig said, clapping his hands together before he turned away from the table. “Now to find a suspect.”

For a few minutes, Jax sat at the table as the Sons all began surveying the bar in search of a target for this bet. He listened as the men pointed out a few different options, hearing comments like ‘no, looks too willing’ or ‘doesn’t look remotely challenging enough’. He chuckled to himself, watching as all of his men kept talking amongst themselves until Tig eventually caught everyone’s attention.

“That one!” he exclaimed, gesturing a finger across the bar. “The one at the end of the bar there. Hunched over her phone. Didn’t even notice her at first.”

Jax shifted in his seat, trying to get a look at where all of the men were now focused. In the far corner of the room, almost too easy to miss, was indeed a woman hunched over her phone. She looked like she was concentrating on something, and judging by the way she was dressed, she wasn’t trying to capture the attention of anyone in the bar tonight. Jax was immediately thankful that he didn’t find her unattractive, either. If anything, he found himself pleased this was the woman they’d picked for the bet. He wouldn't mind her in his bed for a couple of hours tonight.

“She looks more like she’d slap Jax for approaching rather than sleep with him,” Bobby said with a laugh.

Tig shot a look over his shoulder at Bobby, a wicked grin on his face as he nodded his head in agreement. “I know, right? She’s perfect.”

“If anything,” Jax cut in, glancing back over at the woman, “she looks like she’d be thanking me for giving her a little stress relief. She looks a little too tightly wound.”

The table of Sons all returned their attention to Jax now, curious expressions adorning their faces. They were waiting to see if he would keep his word now that a woman had been chosen for the bet.

“Still think you got it in you to charm a girl like that?” Opie asked.

“Yeah, Jax,” Tig goaded. “You gonna call off the bet or what?”

“Fuck off,” Jax said as he rose from his chair, lightly slapping a hand onto the table. “No goddamn way I'm turning the bet down–or losing it. Let me show you boys how it’s done. I’ll have her on my bike and screaming my name in no time.”

Another round of laughter came from around the table, a few of the men wishing Jax good luck. Opie gave him a pat on the back as Jax walked away from the group, his gaze fixed on the unsuspecting woman at the far end of the bar.

This was going to be fun.

The dive bar you’d found yourself in for the evening smelled like mold and sweat–not unlike the shitty motel room you’d checked yourself into earlier today. And yet somehow it had still been rated the best of all the shitty motels in Charming.

Today had been long. You'd had a bit of a drive out to the small town of Charming from Red Ridge this morning–the city in which you lived just a little outside of San Francisco where your prestigious paper, the San Francisco Sun Times, was located. After briefly unpacking a few of your things in the motel you’d unfortunately have to call home for a bit, you'd hit the road again and began your investigation around the surrounding area.

Aleksander Petrova was your great white whale. You’d been chasing him for well over a year now, and you’d almost led the FBI straight to him seven months ago, but some sort of information leak had given the bastard a chance to disappear into thin air before they’d had an opportunity for an arrest. He’d been right there operating just outside of Los Angeles for months and you’d been linking missing woman after missing woman together, discovering a pattern in which he’d targeted female sex workers specifically. Whether his men abducted them from the street, underground brothels, or strip clubs, you’d grown familiar with how he targeted them. But then his ass had disappeared into the wind.

Until recently.

Which was why you’d landed yourself in Northern California now. You had caught the familiar pattern in the unreported missing women cases in the area that had been occurring for the past few months. You were positive it was Petrova. But due to his reach and wealth, and the fact that most of society didn’t bat an eye at a missing prostitute, no one had looked into the cases. It didn’t help that Petrova had plenty of law enforcement in his back pocket, making it easy for officers to turn a blind eye to what was actually going on throughout the state.

But not you.

Huddled over the counter of the bar in the dim lighting, you were focused on typing up an email to your editor on your phone. Gary had technically wanted you to check in with him once you’d gotten settled in Charming earlier this morning, but having been unable to resist getting started on your investigation after finally catching a lead, you admittedly had forgotten all about shooting him an email. You hoped the added bit of information about what you’d started working on today would ease the angry scolding you were sure to receive later.

As you typed, absently sipping on the piss beer you'd ordered a while ago–the one that was only half-finished and growing warm–you eventually felt a presence sidle up near you at the bar. Still focused on your work email, you paid the person no mind as your fingers swiftly flew over the keyboard of your phone. But when you noticed them lean against the counter near you from your peripheral, you had a feeling your quiet evening trying to unwind and focus your thoughts was about to be interrupted.

“Hey there, darlin’,” a deep, smooth voice came from beside you. “You're not from around here, are you?”

Without even glancing up, fingers still flying across the keys of your phone, you tensed at the man's clearly obvious intent. You had important work to focus on, you weren't interested in getting hit on by some random guy in a small town.

“No thank you,” you simply replied, not bothering to look at him.

An amused chuckle met your response, the sound only further irritating you. So this guy wasn't going to give up easily. Fantastic.

“Maybe you should put the phone down, sweetheart,” the voice tried again. “You're missing out on what's going on around you. Like me flirting with you.”

Fingers pausing their typing, you resisted the urge to throw your phone at him. “I wouldn't say I'm ‘missing’ it, exactly,” you said, annoyance levels rising. “It's actually interrupting my work.”

“You're working right now?” the voice asked incredulously. “Darlin’, no. Put the phone away, you're sitting at a bar. Why the hell are you working?”

“Look, if you’re looking for an easy lay tonight, it’s not me,” you stated bluntly, skimming through the finished email on your phone. “I’ll save you the time right now: I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

Another amused chuckle rumbled from the man beside you before you caught him sliding a little bit closer down the length of the counter towards you. Pressing the send button on your phone a bit more roughly than necessary, you couldn’t believe the audacity of this asshole. Was he really going to be that persistent?

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to talk to you,” he replied, entirely unfazed by your rejection. “No need to go getting ahead of ourselves quite yet.”

With a frustrated huff, you turned off the screen on your phone and finally looked over at the man beside you, an irritated glare already on your face. But the irritation immediately fell from it when you realized you recognized this man. An annoying smirk quickly overtook his features as he caught the shift in your own expression, but you didn’t even give that arrogant look on his face another thought before your eyes dropped down to the leather kutte he was wearing, your eyes landing on the President patch. After a brief pause, your gaze slid back up to meet his. The smirk on his face only grew a bit wider as he continued to lean against the bar counter in front of you.

“Change your mind now, darlin’?” he asked.

Ignoring the smirk that seemed to be permanently present and the cocky confidence he exuded, your eyes narrowed slightly back at him. You’d done your research before coming out to Charming. You knew exactly who he was, and he was someone you’d been hoping to get an audience with while you were here. Especially because you were partly here because of him. What were the odds he’d just walk right up to you in a piece of shit dive bar?

“Jax Teller, right?” you questioned back.

That caught him off guard. He visibly recoiled, his eyes widening a bit as you called him by his name. A name he hadn’t given you yet. It took him a moment to recover, his demeanor shifting to something cautious and suspicious almost instantly.

“Yeah, and who the hell are you, sweetheart?” he asked, tone a bit sharper now.

Turning in your chair, you stuck your hand into your purse which hung over the back of it before pulling out a business card. He gave you a strange look as you slid it towards him on the counter, clearly not anticipating the flirtatious conversation to go the way it currently was.

“I’m an investigative journalist,” you informed him. “For the San Francisco Sun Times. I’m out here working a story on missing sex workers.”

Jax’s eyes rose back to you over the top of the business card he was holding in his hand. He looked confused as he studied you in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” he finally asked.

With a roll of your eyes you briefly explained yourself. “I’m investigating the disappearances of missing women–specifically sex workers–in Northern Cali. I believe they’re linked to Aleksander Petrova. You know, the big Russian crime lord?”

Jax pulled a face, his expression morphing briefly into one of horrified disbelief as he set your card back on the bar counter. “Yeah, darlin’. I damn well know who he is,” he told you. “What the hell are you doing looking into a man like that?”

An annoyed huff fell out of you in response. “I just told you,” you replied.

“No, I heard what you said,” he continued, shaking his head at you. “But, sweetheart, you’re a journalist. The hell are you gonna do going up against a man like Petrova?”

Turning further towards him in your chair, you let out a frustrated sigh. You’d been doing this for a long time now, you weren’t remotely incompetent. And you certainly didn’t appreciate being treated as such.

“I’m not going up against him, Mr. Teller,” you began, noticing the way his lips twitched when you’d referred to him so formally. “I’m investigating the missing women. Petrova has a pattern and I’ve been following him for over a year now. I’m trying to find evidence to link the missing women to him so I can give the FBI the information and they can take him down.”

His eyes narrowed back at you, an unreadable expression crossing his features as he listened to what you were saying. He looked completely different now than the arrogant flirt he had been just a few minutes ago.

“Helping those women and stopping that piece of shit is my main priority,” you finished. “The pay from publishing the story just keeps me doing what I do to help others.”

“You realize how unsafe and stupid that is, right?” he shot back. “You’re gonna get yourself killed. Or taken for his trafficking ring yourself. You’re just one goddamn woman going up against a Russian mobster with far more wealth and power than you have. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your vote of confidence,” you bitterly pointed out.

He paused for a moment, irritation briefly washing across his features. You figured he wasn’t used to being spoken to like this very often. Particularly by women, if your research into his club had taught you anything.

“Why’re you telling me all of this?” he asked curiously. “Why are you here in Charming?”

“Because, Mr. Teller,” you began, enjoying the flash of annoyance on his face at your continued formality, “I have a reasonable suspicion that your club’s businesses might be affected by all of this.”

His eyes immediately hardened at that, a dangerous glint in them. But before he got a word out, a loud commotion broke out over the noise of the bar. Both of you glanced over at the increasing ruckus across the room. You spotted a table filled with Sons all currently banging their hands against the surface and shouting at Jax.

“We believe in ya, Jackie!”

“Come on, brother! Seal the deal!”

“What's taking you so goddamn long, man!”

You frowned as the group of men fell into loud laughter, your attention slowly returning to the man in front of you. It was obvious they were shouting at him in relation to him having come over to flirt with you, but they seemed far too invested for their behavior to be normal. Jax's expression didn't give you much to go by as he only appeared to grow further irritated at their interruption before he turned back around and focused on you.

“What businesses are you talking about, darlin’?” he asked.

Resting an arm along the sticky bar counter, you kept your attention solely on him despite the continued noise from across the room. This conversation was far more important than whatever bullshit these men were shouting about. You might never have the opportunity of discussing anything about this investigation with Jax again after tonight, you couldn't waste the opportunity that had fallen into your lap.

“Redwoody and Diosa,” you answered him. “And the Diosa expansion I know you’re working on.”

Jax tensed at your response, his eyes narrowing further as he grew even more uncomfortable now. “How do you know about those?” he asked. “And why do they have anything to do with this?”

“I'm good at my job, Mr. Teller,” you answered. “And I told you, Petrova targets sex workers. And you and your club happen to have rounded quite a few up for your porn business and the poorly disguised brothels.” At the look that flashed across his face, you abruptly held up a hand and continued. “Relax, I'm not here to out you on those. I've known about them for a while now. If I wanted them shut down, they'd have been raided already. That's not what I'm after.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Sweetheart, you’ve got a lot of knowledge that you shouldn’t have. I’m not likin’ that.”

Tapping your nails against the bar, you could see the tension increasing in him. He’d obviously expected to come over here and flirt, probably thinking he’d take you somewhere for a fuck. Now he looked stiff and pissed off.

“Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to tell you this to your face if I planned to shut your shit down?” you asked him. “Because that’d be pretty fucking stupid.” Sighing, your nails stopped tapping along the counter as you tried to be straight with him. “Look, I’m investigating these missing women either way. While I do, I’m hoping to keep your girls safe. All I’d like is a little cooperation to do so.”

“Cooperation?” he asked skeptically.

You shrugged easily. “Yeah. Like a head’s up if something weird is going on,” you explained. “If someone’s eyeing your businesses. Following any of your girls home. Anyone actually ends up missing.”

“Darlin’, I think I’m better equipped to take care of our girls more than you are,” he argued, that arrogant smirk gradually returning. “And I don’t need some fed wannabe dragging the real feds to my town.”

“Well,” you said, pushing your chair out and rising to your feet, “I’ll still be around. In case you care to change your mind and help those missing women.”

Pocketing your phone into your jean’s pocket, you figured it was about time you made it back to your motel for the night. You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow and you wanted to finalize a few more notes on your laptop before bed. Grabbing your purse and slipping the strap over your head, you paused when Jax’s voice suddenly broke through your thoughts.

“Whoa, wait, you’re just leaving then?” he asked. “You drop a bomb like that and then you’re just gonna disappear? You didn’t even finish your beer.”

Glancing over at the half-finished, disappointing drink, you made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “It was shitty beer, anyway.”

You managed to take one step before Jax was speaking again. In the distance, you heard a bit of commotion steadily growing from the table of Sons once more.

“Come on,” Jax tried again. “Just let me buy you a drink. Something a little less shitty. We can talk about something…less depressing.”

Eyes running over the length of him just once, you already knew what he was after. And the answer was still no. You were here to finish this story and get Petrova thrown in prison. Fucking some random outlaw–no matter how attractive–wasn’t a priority. Especially one who, in your research, apparently had a history of fucking just about anything. You avoided guys like that.

“No, I’m good,” you answered. “Have a nice night, Mr. Teller.”

Taking just a few steps towards the bar’s exit, you heard the commotion from the table of Sons suddenly explode throughout the bar. The noise caused you to halt in your tracks, your head darting over towards the table as your brows knitted together in curiosity.

“Aw, Jackie!” one of the men shouted. “Ya lost the bet!”

“You’re losing your touch, brother!”

“Shot down! No action for you!”

It took a moment, but the second your ears registered the words ‘bet,’ you steadily began piecing things together. He hadn’t come over to initially speak with you because he’d actually been interested, it’s because they’d all made you into a damn bet. A fucking joke for their entertainment. Probably something along the lines of him getting you into his bed. A look of disgust passed over your features as your gaze shifted to Jax still standing beside the bar. He at least had the audacity to look moderately apologetic before he turned his attention towards the guys, shouting loudly across the room to be heard.

“Knock it the fuck off, assholes!”

Shaking your head at him, you could feel the disgust and embarrassment steadily filling you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t worked with countless individuals in the seedy underworld, because you most certainly had. Your ability to humanize them to the outside world in your pieces was something you’d been praised for repeatedly. But never in your years of journalism had you been subjected to something so humiliating.

“You just saved me three hundred bucks, sweetheart!” one man shouted over to you.

A chorus of laughter erupted once more from the table as you made your way to the exit without a backwards glance at Jax. Instead, you shot the men at the table a dark glare, raising a hand high in the air and flipping the whole table off before pushing the door open and making your way outside.

Working with the Sons on this story, if you managed it, was going to be a pain in your ass.

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