#river song x daughter reader

[marsi-is-depressed]

The most basic skill

Eleventh Doctor x Daughter Reader.

The reader has a stammer and the doctor hears her crying in her room, she tries to speak but is not able to get anything out, she gets annoyed at herself and breaks her hand by punching a hard surface. The doctor calls River, her mother to come help.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/marsi-is-depressed/768741812679720960/anger-strikes-again?source=share

Cw/Tw: This fic is from my own experience I've had dealing with having a stammer. Panic attacks, broken hand, a bit of violence.

The TARDIS hummed softly, her ancient rhythms steady and reassuring. But behind the comforting soundscape, another noise reached the Doctor’s ears—a muffled sobbing, faint but unmistakable. It came from down the corridor, and it stopped him mid-adjustment on the console.

His hearts clenched. “Y/N?” he called out, his voice carrying concern. When there was no response, he followed the sound to your room. The door was closed, and for a moment, he hesitated. He didn’t want to intrude, but your cries were growing louder.

“Sweetheart?” he said gently, knocking. “It’s Dad. Can I come in?”

There was no answer, just more sobbing, and something else—a low, frustrated noise that made his stomach turn. He pushed the door open, his worry mounting.

What he saw froze him in place. You were curled up on the floor, your face buried in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your other hand was cradled against your chest, swollen and bruised.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, rushing to your side. “What happened?”

You looked up at him, trying to speak, but the words stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth, desperate to explain, but your stammer took hold, twisting every syllable into an unrecognisable mess.

“I—I—” you choked out, your frustration mounting as the words refused to come.

The Doctor reached for your shoulder, his voice soft and steady. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

But you shook your head violently, the tears coming harder now. The anger and shame boiled over, and you shouted, “N-No! It’s—it’s n-not o-okay!”

You slammed your fist against the floor, wincing as pain shot through your already-injured hand. The Doctor grabbed your wrist gently but firmly to stop you from hurting yourself further.

“Stop, sweetheart. Please stop,” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “You’re hurt. We need to take care of this.”

But you pulled away, curling into yourself. “I-I c-can’t do it!” you sobbed. “C-c-can’t even t-t-talk!”

The Doctor’s hearts shattered. He wanted to tell you how wrong you were, how brilliant you were, but he could see the storm inside you. He pulled his communicator from his pocket, his hands trembling.

“River,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “It’s Y/N. She’s hurt her hand—she’s… she’s upset. I need you here.”

River’s voice came through instantly, calm but serious. “I’m on my way, sweetie. Keep her safe.”

He dropped the communicator and turned back to you, kneeling beside you again. “Y/N, look at me,” he said softly, his tone steady but pleading. “You’re not alone. I’m right here. And Mum’s coming. We’re going to help you.”

It wasn’t long before River burst into the room, her vortex manipulator still glowing. She took one look at the scene and immediately knelt beside you, her sharp eyes assessing your swollen hand.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “What happened?”

“I—I… I c-can’t—” you stammered, but the frustration boiled over again, and you screamed, “I c-can’t g-get a-a-anything o-out!”

River caught your uninjured hand, holding it gently but firmly. “Listen to me, my darling girl,” she said, her voice calm but resolute. “You don’t have to say a word right now. We’re here, and we’ll figure this out together. Just breathe.”

The Doctor hovered nearby, his hands twitching with helplessness. “Her hand,” he said softly. “She’s hurt it badly.”

River nodded, her eyes not leaving yours. “We’ll take care of it. Y/N, let’s start with this, okay? Let me look at your hand.”

You hesitated, still trembling, but her calm presence slowly eased some of the tension. You let her take your injured hand, wincing as she examined it.

“It’s swollen,” she said gently. “We’ll need to get this wrapped up and checked properly. But first, we need to calm those nerves, love.” She looked up at the Doctor. “Ice pack. Med kit.”

He nodded and dashed out of the room, returning moments later with the supplies. River worked efficiently, wrapping your hand with care while murmuring soothing words.

Once your hand was tended to, River sat beside you on the floor, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. The Doctor sat on your other side, his worry etched plainly across his face.

“Y/N,” River said softly, “talking is hard sometimes. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect. We love you exactly as you are.”

You shook your head, fresh tears falling. “I-it’s e-everything,” you whispered, the words halting but clear enough. “W-w-words d-don’t… c-come out. I g-get s-so m-mad.”

The Doctor finally spoke, his voice soft and steady. “I know it’s frustrating, sweetheart. But you don’t have to do this alone. You’re allowed to feel angry, but you don’t have to hurt yourself because of it. Please promise me that.”

You hesitated, the vulnerability of your emotions leaving you raw. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you whispered.

The Doctor leaned in, wrapping his arms around you gently. “No apologies, Y/N. You’re the bravest person I know. We’ll get through this. Together.”

River kissed the top of your head, her voice soft but resolute. “You’re stronger than you believe, my darling girl. And we’ll remind you of that every single day if we have to.”

For the first time in hours, the tight knot in your chest began to loosen. You didn’t know how long it would take to feel okay again, but with your parents by your side, the weight felt just a little easier to bear.

[dandelionpixels]

the doctor (9/10/11) + reader

(platonic/familial)

ask: Doctor x daughter reader? Where reader already knows most of what's going to happen because she's from 11 and Rivers time but through timey wimey stuff ends up traveling with 9 and rose and eventually 10? This might be too specific but the way I have it in my head is she ended up being a partner in crime with Jack and so the first time they meet she's with him and the doctor is like “Who are you?!” and she's all “Spoilers!........ I've always wanted to say that!”

You’ve been running since you were born. A breathing enigma, that’s what they called you. There’s no point in explaining how, or even why. It’s really no fun to have an answer anyway.

Honestly the only thing that’s important is that, much like River, you’re living your life in the wrong order, jumping around without rhyme or reason. You don’t mind, it keeps things exciting. It’d been a while of traveling with Eleven and the Ponds, so you figured you were due for another temporal displacement. But you just didn’t think it’d be so far back.

You’d always found Jack interesting, no matter how much each Doctor warned you to be careful. And he’s always out there, no matter the time period, which works perfectly for you. So you track him down again, preparing an introduction, knowing he certainly hasn’t met you yet.

It ends up being unnecessary, since when you find him, he’s too busy dodging laser-fire to listen to your story. In fact, he immediately promises to pay you handsomely if you pretend to be a hostage. And he seems pleasantly surprised when you take little-to-no convincing, ruffling your hair and dashing across the bridge with you, gun to your back. By the time you guys make it across the border safely, he’s offering a partnership, grin plastered on his face. With a matching smile, you agree, excited to continue your streak of befriending Jack in any time.

This arrangement leads you to run into the Doctor, as traveling with Jack always seems to do.

Meeting Nine

The first time you properly see Nine, your mouth fully drops open.

You’d known him through pictures, shared memories, stories, but never in person. He’s real, and new, and standing right in front of you. Jack offers him a mock salute, glancing back to see you still standing in silence. Before you can stop yourself, your mouth starts to form a sentence, the first thing you could think of to say.

“Your ears are proper huge!”

Rose has to grab his arm to keep him from lunging towards you, planting her feet to yank him back. He stumbles slightly but lets her keep him in place, angrily fixing his coat collar, “And who would you be then?”

Jack chuckles, arms crossed while he lets you talk. A giddy grin spreads across your face, eyes lighting up with genuine excitement as you shoot him a playful wink, “Can’t say! Spoilers!”

You try and fail to stifle your smile, looking between the others, “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Nine just throws his arms up in the air, “Great, wonderful, fantastic. Spoilers, what is that supposed to mean?”

After thinking about it more, he pivots his body to direct the question towards Jack. Resting his hands on his hips, he taps his foot impatiently, and you can’t help but think he looks like a disgruntled mother.

Jack shrugs, “She’s my partner.”

Over Nine’s shoulder, you see Rose make a gagging expression. You shake your head frantically, “Not- no- just partners! No- erm- skadoodling.”

This time it’s Jack turn to gag, as he mouths ‘skadoodle?’ to you. You shrug, and Jack rolls his eyes, “It’s true. Just partners, none of- what she said.” He pauses before continuing, “Despite my best efforts.”

Shoving him him pointedly, you look back towards Nine’s irritated expression, “I’m a friend of the Doctors, and that’s all I can say. Jack can swear that I’m not a spy, or whatever.”

You shoot a sharp look in Jack’s direction and he makes a cross over his heart, “Hope to die.”

Nine groans, “Can nothing ever be easy with me? Does everything have to be so convoluted.”

Rose rolls her eyes, “Tell me about it.”

She looks towards you, recognizing something in your eyes. The same thing she sees in the Doctor’s. Shake shakes it off, just excited about the prospect of having another girl in the Tardis to talk too. Before Nine can cut in, she steps forward, “Jack’s word is good enough for me! We’re about to see the emerald fields, do you wanna come?”

Your face splits into a bright smile, “Do I? I have like three hats from the gift shop!”

Before Nine’s dumbfounded face can come up with more questions, you grab Jack’s hand and pull him inside the Tardis. Looking back as he runs inside, Jack grins towards Nine, “Sorry Doc, looks like the ladies are making the calls!”

Nine follows the both of you inside, dragging Rose behind him and pointing accusatory at you, “Now I’m not sure what kind of small-ear agenda you’re spouting, but I won’t have it in my Tardis. And keep your odd amount of space-time trivia to yourself!”

You nod, giving him a mock salute and giggling as he pinches the bridge of his nose with a soft groan.

Misc. Traveling With Nine

- It’s a lot of him insisting you don’t know something, and you insisting that you do. It typically ends up with Rose and Jack placing money on it. Which Nine shortly banned because they kept only betting on you.

- You keep intentionally hitting buttons on the console and then pretending to be surprised when they work. It cracks Rose up and makes Nine crazy when you ‘bump into’ the landing stabilizers every time they touch down somewhere.

- Rose almost falls to the floor laughing when Jack makes a joke about you and Nine kissing and you make such a disgusted face that Nine almost looks like his feelings were hurt.

- Sometimes you and Jack disappear for a couple days to do something on your own, and every time you come back, Nine pretends like he wasn’t worried. Rose always rolls her eyes behind him, letting you know he’s bluffing. He spends most of the time you’re gone pacing around and complaining about you not calling to let him know you’d be gone.

- Whenever you get a chance to say spoilers, you take it. Nine always find it unreliably infuriating but he eventually stops pressing you for more information.

- He leaves the Tardis one day in ’normal clothes’ to try and go undercover somewhere. When he comes back, you and Rose are taking turns wearing his coat and doing arguably awful impressions of him. Jack is sitting in the chair, grabbing his stomach as he guffaws loudly.

It feels like you’re just getting comfortable when Nine’s time comes to an end, and the regeneration process begins.

You and Rose huddle together, covering each other’s eyes while the glowing light fills the Tardis. You can’t help the tears running down your cheek, even though you already knew this would happen. It doesn’t stop the feelings.

Both of you wait in Jackie’s room as he sleeps, and you can’t properly explain to them why you’re not as worried as everyone else.

When he slowly but surely gets back into the swing of things, you can feel yourself filling with new excitement. It’s another Doctor, whom you’ve never met. Like an second family reunion where only ones of you knows that you’re family.

Misc. Traveling With Ten

- There’s more emotional moments with him, where you almost get hurt and he goes a little crazy trying to make sure you’re safe. It gets to the point where you have to pull him aside, promising that you can handle yourself. He insists he knows that, but it doesn’t stop him from putting himself between you and danger at every opportunity.

- On the rooftop of some scummy restaurant in future Montana, he admits that he trusts you implicitly. He says he can’t understand why, but you feel close to his soul in a way he doesn’t understand. It makes your heart pang to not be able to tell him that you feel the same way.

- You’re there for him when Rose leaves, to sit with him in the silence, and to scream into the canyons on deserted planets. You’re there for Donna, then Martha, then Donna again. You get along with all of them and it always makes you sad to know how things pan out, but you try to just enjoy your time with them.

- There’s somehow even more running than before, and it feels like he’s always grabbing your hand to pull you towards various adventures.

- The both of you get really competitive, always racing to outdo each other’s dramatic conclusion, and forgetting there’s other people around.

- He makes a huge deal out of your birthday, despite them being more a suggestion for Timelords. He takes you to Paris (367 years in the future) for breakfast, back in time for a front-row concert from your favorite musician, and then to 8 different planets for a multiple course dinner and desert.

When you both run into River in the library, you can’t help but let out a soft gasp. River locks eyes with you and in an instant, you know she knows you. Running into her arms, she just laughs and spins you slightly, thanking the universe for aligning you guys so perfectly.

Ten almost genuinely stomps his feet, infuriated, “You have got to be kidding me! How do you two know each other?”

You shoot a playful smile to River, and the both of you turn to face him at the same time, exclaiming a chastising, “Spoilers!”

[supercutszns]

twin beads | luke castellan

wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader

synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)

warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)

i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach

“Ahoy, sailor!”

The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming. 

But maybe not as much as you love your best friend. 

He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”

You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”

Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.

All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.” 

“Make me, you mailman.”

Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you. 

He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet. 

“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you. 

He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm. 

“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”

“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”

You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts. 

Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since. 

Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)

But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep. 

Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most. 

Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!

Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now. 

You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.” 

The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!

You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath. 

“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”

You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.) 

When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”

Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you. 

“And where’s your towel?”  

“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.” 

Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”

“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought. 

After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.” 

“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.” 

He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.

The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”

“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?” 

“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully. 

“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”

Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere. 

You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it. 

“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”

“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”

Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me! 

You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”

Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”

“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks. 

“Not the spiders, the twins.” 

Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”

He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it. 

His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully. 

Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”

You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.

You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much. 

After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty. 

“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun. 

Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can. 

Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”

“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”

There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”

“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly. 

Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it. 

You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”

“But doesn’t it make you mad?”

“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.” 

“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly. 

“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”

His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”

Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right? 

“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath. 

“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”

His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”

“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”

Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”

He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”

Oh, well. You’ll take it. 

ii. you can't help but become the sun

You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does. 

You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time. 

When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him. 

“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”

He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”

Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”

“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.” 

“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back. 

Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”

“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.

“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady. 

“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”

The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn. 

Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”

He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe. 

“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?

“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance. 

Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.   

iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning. 

“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why. 

You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin. 

Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously. 

You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him. 

“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him. 

He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him. 

But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal. 

He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.” 

You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.

Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right? 

You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves. 

“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy. 

“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game? 

“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up. 

You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”

Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.” 

You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut. 

Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself. 

The claiming symbol of Poseidon. 

“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth. 

Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest. 

You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”

When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon. 

Poseidon. 

You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.

Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour. 

This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes. 

iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you

You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place. 

It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again. 

You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do. 

This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life. 

You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you. 

You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect. 

The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised? 

He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”

You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”

“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water. 

Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”

When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”

“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes. 

“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread. 

“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”

His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs. 

“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out. 

The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs. 

You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise. 

When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”

It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now. 

“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”

Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. 

You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”

Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”

Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”

His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly. 

He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”

You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”

“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”

An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.

Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”

Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.

Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon. 

“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”

Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”

It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.

He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”

“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?” 

You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.

“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile. 

“What do you want me to ask you?”

“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”

“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”

He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world. 

It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need. 

Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit. 

“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy. 

He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”

“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour. 

You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious. 

He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it. 

Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin. 

His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse. 

You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”

“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”

“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”

He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”

“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”

That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”

You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real. 

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[sansaorgana]

— QUICK LEARNERS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You're sent to Giedi Prime to marry your distant cousin and become the new Na-Baroness. However, your new husband seems to ignore you. You come up with an idea how to gain his attention and you ask one of the Generals from your homeworld to teach you how to wield a blade.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — While writing my fanfic "Forbidden Fruit" I was inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures creating the Reader's homeworld. This time I was inspired by my own Slavic culture but as usual – the physical appearance of the Reader is not described. 💘 I really like coming up with all these new planets! Also, I decided it makes sense for the world inspired by the Slavic culture to be related to The Harkonnens, therefore Feyd and Reader are cousins but they're distantly related (as most noble people are, I guess).

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood – the Reader is injured, slight incest (distant cousins), SMUT, oral, hints of breeding kink, Feyd is a bit ooc in my opinion but... so what? he's cute 🤪

WORD COUNT — 7,840

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

QUICK LEARNERS

Your father, The Tsar, worked very hard to make this union happen. Baron Harkonnen had wanted his heir and nephew to marry one of The Emperor’s daughters but your father’s relentless visits, letters and arguments finally worked.

Your family was cousins with The Harkonnen bloodline. You were more used to their culture and you shared similar values. Of course your house was not as important as The Harkonnens. In fact, your planet was under The Harkonnen rule and your father only governed it in their name although his family had been allowed to keep their titles.

Giedi Prime was an industrial planet without any nature which was the opposite of your homeworld. Morana was mostly dark green – a never ending forest full of valuable resources. Sadly, most of them were being transported to Giedi Prime for nearly nothing in return. Your father was determined for The Baron to make it up to your people for all the centuries of colonisation and turn their Grand Duchess into The Harkonnen Baroness.

Your home world was supplying Giedi Prime with important raw materials and fearsome warriors that were known all over the galaxy as ruthless beasts in combat. Growing up in such an environment, you would easily adapt to Giedi Prime even though it lacked the greenery completely. You would make a much better Baroness than any spoiled daughter of The Emperor. Those were your father’s arguments at least.

So, you were sent to Giedi Prime with dozens of heavy wooden chests filled with your most precious belongings. Everything you loved, everything that was defining you – it had to fit in these boxes. You couldn’t take the forests with you nor the rivers, the songs of your people, the smile of your mother, the warmth of the fireplace. All you could take were the dresses and jewels, a few books. And a burden of the realisation how big responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. To make your parents proud and to become a good na-baroness… and then Baroness. To give heirs.

You knew Feyd-Rautha from all the official ceremonies. You had never talked to him before, he would only greet you with a head nod and a word cousin in his low, raspy voice that was sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. A few times before you had watched him fight in the arena. He was an incredible warrior but his combats were for show which was disappointing for a woman from Morana – a planet known for its art of warfare.

You weren’t scared of him and you weren’t taken aback by his Harkonnen nature nor looks. You were used to The Harkonnens visiting your planet or you visiting theirs with your parents for official events and celebrations. However, you were not pleased with this union either. He didn’t seem to be a pleasant man and you didn’t like the responsibility that came with this marriage.

Your wedding was grand. Every governor and leader of the planet under The Harkonnen rule was invited. Your dress was white, decorated with traditional red embroidery of your people. On your head there was a flower crown made out of flowers that grew on Morana. But seeing all the people around you, you quickly realised it probably was the last time you’d wear something white. No one around was wearing any colour except for black. The only white clothes you could see were the ones of the servants.

The wedding party was a display of power and violence but it wouldn’t make a girl from your planet flinch. You focused on the cake and tried to remember all the advice your mother had given to you regarding your upcoming wedding night.

She had been straightforward with you. A strong Tsarina like her would never hesitate or shy away. She had told you it would be best if you took your husband from behind so you wouldn’t have to look into his face. And she had made it clear that the marriage should be consummated. No matter how much it would hurt.

You observed your new husband with the corner of your eye but he looked the same as his wedding kiss had felt – bored and unimpressed. Cold.

Around midnight he stood up to leave the table without making any announcements. Panicked, you glanced at your new servant girls and they nodded at you. So, you stood up as well and gathered the fabric of your dress to lift it gently and follow him down the corridor.

He walked fast, you could barely catch up. His silence was heavy between you two. After all, you were his wife now – you were supposed to share a life together – but he chose to treat you like air instead.

When the doors leading to his chambers opened, you entered them right after your new husband. That was when he turned around as if he was surprised. He looked you up and down with contempt and you realised that he had not been pleased with this union.

Perhaps because you were not The Emperor’s daughter. Perhaps he wasn’t finding you attractive enough.

“Cousin,” he drawled as usual.

“Can you not call me that anymore?” You sighed.

“Wife,” you swore there was a shadow of a smirk on his face. But he didn’t say anything else and you felt helpless. You didn’t know how to talk to him.

You tried to remember your mother’s words. You weren’t there to have conversations with him.

“Husband,” you nodded your head at him and he watched with tilted head as you approached his huge black bed and bent over.

“What are you doing?” He snorted at you.

You couldn’t understand. You furrowed your brows and turned your head around. His sneering facial expression embarrassed you but you stayed in your position.

“Would you rather take me the other way around? I didn’t expect you to be a romantic,” you commented.

“I do not intend to take you at all,” Feyd shook his head. “I’m going to sleep. You do whatever,” he shrugged his arms and began to undress.

Clumsily, you straightened yourself and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress. Once he was in his underwear, without a word he got under the cover and ignored you completely.

You watched in shock as he began to drift off to the land of dreams. You had no idea what to do. Not only you had humiliated yourself but also you had failed to consummate the marriage.

You crouched down and picked up all the pieces of clothing he had scattered all over the floor. Like a dutiful wife already, you folded them neatly and put them away on the chair by his desk. Then you removed the flower crown and your dress, thanking all the gods above that it was not a complicated piece because you had no idea how you’d manage to do that without your servants’ help. You tried to be as quiet as possible while doing that, not wanting to wake Feyd up and cause his anger.

Once you were in your linen underdress, you decided to just join him in the huge bed and go to sleep as well. You were laying as far away from him as possible as you didn’t want to bother him. It was no easy task because he decided to sleep right in the middle of it like he had forgotten already that he was married now and had to share.

You didn’t understand the situation you had found yourself in. When the small orb of light by your bedside turned off, you stared at the pitch black room as all your limbs tensed. You could hear Feyd’s soft snores and the distant sounds of your wedding party, the firework splashes of white ink in the night sky. Yet, you – the bride and the new na-baroness – just laid on the edge of the bed, feeling lonely and humiliated.

The weeks passed and you remained Feyd’s wife by name only. You shared your chambers with him but he was always awake before you and in the evening you were often asleep by the time he would join you in bed. There were days when you weren’t seeing each other at all. He was busy with training for his fights but also with fucking his concubines. You had found out about all of them from your servant girls.

The most important ones were three scary cannibalistic harpies. The servants were terrified of them because they could end up as their meal any time. There were also other women in your husband’s life but they were regular pleasure slaves and they did not matter as much. With his harpies he seemed to share some sort of bond.

Of course. Now it made sense. How could you even compare to such creatures? However, you did not even want to. You just hoped Feyd would finally be reminded – by his uncle or the medic – that he had to fulfil his duties and produce an heir.

You felt lonely and rejected. Your duties were not many and you quickly realised that most of them were nothing but a show off – just like your husband’s fights in the arena. It was probably because you were a woman and a new addition to the family. The Baron would never actually put you in charge of anything important.

Your only companions were your servant girls. You grew attached to them but they were no friends. Not because you thought of them as less but because of their timid personality. They were terrified of The Harkonnens and they were often trembling whenever they spotted your annoyance. Such a dynamic could not be a base of any real valuable friendship although your heart was breaking for them.

They had told you that the people of Giedi Prime liked you. You were not like your husband nor his family and you looked different because of the pigment of your skin and your hair. Sometimes, to your new black Harkonnen attire you would add a jewellery or a flower crown from your homeworld. The citizens of Giedi Prime adored the additional splash of colour. You expected Feyd-Rautha to scold you for that but he did not. He seemed not to care at all about you and what you were doing.

You had tried everything to get his attention and to seduce him. You had started to wear more revealing nightgowns to bed but he would ignore you. You had walked in on him taking a bath on purpose – pretending it was an accident. He hadn’t even flinched.

You had been asking him things about Giedi Prime and The Harkonnen history – making a fool of yourself by asking him things you had known already. He would always answer dryly and coldly; often without even sparing you a glance. Then he would go on ignoring you.

You had tried to move closer to him in bed at night. Pretending to be asleep, you had adjusted your body slowly until your arms touched. He had woken up abruptly and moved aside, stealing the blanket.

You nearly gave up but there was one more idea you were thinking of. You wanted to share a hobby with your husband. It could not be sex because he refused to touch you, which made you feel so unattractive that you didn’t even think of flirting with other men to cause his jealousy. His coldness made you feel ugly.

No, his other hobby was the blade. And you sometimes observed his training and they always made you miss your home. On Morana the warriors would train day and night just like him. You had often observed them with your father as he was telling you grand stories. And perhaps you were a lady, but you were your people’s Grand Duchess and you could handle the blade. Or so you had thought.

You found one of the generals of The Harkonnen army who was from your homeworld. He looked different than the rest of them because of his longer, braided hair and tattoos on his face that were your people’s spiritual symbols. However, like most of the important military men from your homeworld, he had been sent to Giedi Prime as a young boy to be trained under The Harkonnens. Such boys were some sort of a tribute in the same way your natural resources were. All those years spent under the black sun had made his natural skin colour a few tones paler. But amongst The Harkonnens he still looked the healthiest.

“General Bohumil,” you approached him one day after watching him train with other soldiers. He was putting his blades away as he raised an eyebrow at you, surprised to see you wandering around this part of the fortress.

“Slava, Grand Duchess (Y/L/N), My Lady Na-Baroness Harkonnen,” he bowed down. You smiled at the way he addressed you as it brought back memories of your homeworld where you were addressed as The Grand Duchess and with the word slava meaning glory as a sign of respect. “What brings you here, My Lady?” He asked.

“I was wondering if you’d find some time for me,” you began, a little nervously as he furrowed his brows. “To train me.”

“Train you, na-baroness?” General Bohumil hesitated. He was looking for the right words not to insult you in any way. “What does your husband think of such an idea, my Lady?”

“I don’t think he cares about what I do at all,” you admitted honestly with a shrug of your arms.

He would never say that but you could see the look in his eyes. You were a spoiled and bored noble lady in his eyes and he’d only waste his precious time on you. However, he was too scared to say no. Your question was not a proposition, it was an order. That was the way of The Harkonnens and that was the way your father ruled on Morana, too.

“Alright, my Lady. I can show you the basics,” he nodded. “We can start tomorrow. But I warn you, you can bruise or hurt yourself,” he added.

“I am aware. Those are natural consequences of a combat, General,” you smiled at him. “I will find you tomorrow,” you nodded and went back to your quarters, very pleased with yourself.

The first week of your trainings – and you had insisted on them to take place every day – General Bohumil was only making you stretch and prepare your muscles for the future extortion. No whining about it could cause him to change his mind. But after the first week you were finally given a blade to hold. It was quite short and light but very swift to move. The handle was wooden with your people’s spiritual symbols engraved on it. It was a traditional blade of the warriors from Morana and it made you feel so proud to be your father’s daughter to wield it. It made you feel as if you were home again.

You were also given a shield-like device that would protect you from hurting yourself or from the General hurting you in an accident. You noticed that he wore one, too, probably expecting you to clumsily wave the blade around and possibly cause some harm with it.

“Repeat the sentences after me, my Lady,” General Bohumil began to show you the most basic moves. You nearly rolled your eyes at how easy they seemed to be but you wanted to be an obedient student and to prove to him that you were not just a bored noble lady. You really wanted to learn.

He corrected your posture and the position of your feet as he lifted your elbow and then he began to show you the same sequence again.

You had many traits that were considered to be positive – it could be seen now, in the way you obediently performed your duties, how you desperately tried to make your marriage work and keep both of the families proud. You cared about your family’s honour, you were aware of the responsibility placed upon you. You would never sabotage your union; you were loyal and proud.

But you also possessed some traits that were considered to be negative – impatience was one of them. You didn’t want to keep repeating the same basic sequence a million times all over again, feeling like a child with a toy sword. You wanted to feel the adrenaline already like your husband when you watched him in combat or the warriors on your planet. Not listening to General Bohumil’s warnings, you started to spice up the sequence with the moves you had only seen in the gladiator arena before.

“My Lady, please, that is too advanced. We will get to it in the right time,” he sighed, trying his best to contain his anger. As a military man he was all about discipline and if you were a common soldier, he would lash out at you, you were sure of that. But you were his Grand Duchess and his Na-Baroness and he couldn’t even scold you. He could only calmly try to explain.

But you wouldn’t impress Feyd with the basic combat moves. You were sure that if he caught you now, he would laugh with contempt. No, you had to be better than that. And you hated to wait.

“This stupid shield,” you turned the device off as General’s eyes widened, “it’s distorting my view,” you whined.

“My Lady, please, turn it back on,” he pleaded. “Your eyes will get used to it after a few weeks of training, I can assure you of that.”

“A few weeks?!” You sneered. “When you talk to me using such long amounts of time, I get discouraged already. You think I’m not good enough to master this art faster than that?”

“It’s not about your personal skills, na-baroness, I assure you. Every man needs time to get better,” he swallowed thickly as he watched you play with the knife in your hand. “Please, turn the shield back on.”

Like a spoiled child, encouraged by the fact that your little hand tricks with the knife came easy to you, you took a step ahead and attacked him. In one swift movement he defended himself as he crossed his knife with yours but you could feel he was not using his full force.

You tried one of the tricks you had seen while observing the fights and you tried to quickly take a step back and attack him once again but straight into his ribcage this time. However, you were not experienced enough to try such a move and the knife clumsily slid through your hand. You hissed out of pain as it sliced through the leather fabric of your pants and through the tender flesh of your thigh.

The General’s eyes widened as he turned his shield device off and approached you quickly. You were in so much pain, you were gritting your teeth but you refused to let out a scream or to sit down. You didn’t want him to see you like this although the tears were already pricking your eyes and you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your leg.

“Na-Baroness!” There was a worry in his voice but he used a scolding tone, not being able to hold himself back anymore.

“Don’t even mention it. I know,” you drawled through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault, I know.”

He nodded his head, relieved that you were not blaming your injury on him.

“You’re hurt, my Lady. Let me escort you to the medical wing,” he insisted.

“No, thank you. I will go there myself,” you told him. “I will be back when it’s healed,” you added and limped out of the door as quickly as your pain allowed you, too.

You wanted to be alone so you could finally start crying out of pain, although you made sure to do it quietly. You were thankful that the medical wing was close to the training section of the fortress for strategic reasons.

Your servant girls had picked you up from the medical wing. They had been looking at you as if you were crazy but they hadn’t dared to say a word. Your thigh was now disinfected and bandaged and your servants helped you to change into a nightgown as they recommended you to go to bed earlier than usual and get rest. They left you alone in your chamber and assured that they would be nearby if you needed them.

But you weren’t sleepy. You felt ashamed and humiliated as you kept overthinking your stupid behaviour. You knew one thing only – you didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to find out about this accident. He would think of you as weak and foolish… and he wouldn’t be wrong.

You were laying on the bed and reading a book, making sure that your leg was covered by both your nightgown and the duvet. When Feyd entered the bedroom – earlier than usual – you started to suspect he had found out about your accident and wanted to see with his own eyes. You pretended not to pay any attention to him but you watched him from the corner of your eye as you struggled to focus on the book. He sat by his desk and sighed while reading some letters that had been placed there in the morning and you realised it was his time to perform his na-baron duties as he was supposed to deal with the paperwork. He hated this.

Knowing that he was already angry at the fact that he had to answer the letters, you were trying not to bother him at all and you controlled your own breath so it wouldn’t be too loud. On the other hand, you had to admit that Feyd-Rautha had never aimed his anger at you… so far. You had known about his nature before and although you were not scared of him, you had expected him to get violent at times. That had never happened, though. 

Sometimes you wished it had. Because at least he’d react anyway to your presence instead of treating you like air.

Deep in your thoughts, you lost your focus and dropped your book with a loud thump sound on the floor. You froze and glanced at your husband’s shoulders. He stiffened and you quickly leaned in to grab the book, forgetting completely about your new injury as the duvet and your nightgown pulled up and revealed your bandage.

Once you straightened your back with the book in your hand, you noticed the exposed thigh and quickly covered it, hoping that Feyd had not seen it. You looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him staring at you intensely.

“What is it?” He asked with squinted eyes.

He talked to you so rarely that you nearly startled at the harsh and unpleasant sound of his raspy voice. You wondered if you’d ever get used to it.

“This? A book, dear husband. Something about the politics,” you chuckled nervously as you waved your hand, playing a fool.

Feyd stood up and approached the bed as you watched with terror in your eyes. He aggressively tossed the duvet aside and your skin got covered with goosebumps. He lifted up the hem of your nightgown and you hated to admit how electrifying his fingertips felt on your thigh. He had never touched you like that before.

“Who hurt you?” He asked after seeing the bandage again. His cold eyes stared into yours with a burning gaze.

“What do you care?” You asked and shrugged your arms. “It’s nothing,” you assured. “An accident.”

“I care,” he assured you but without any delicacy. “As your husband I am responsible for taking care of you and your honour,” he pointed out. “And as my wife you are my property. Whoever raises their hand on you, raises their hand on me and the Baronship,” he added.

“I did it to myself,” you bit on your lower lip and he tilted his head, visibly in disbelief. “If you paid more attention to me, you’d find out more things about me and you’d know by now that I tend to be clumsy sometimes,” you hissed at him and tried to cover your thigh again but he kept his hand there.

“I do pay attention to you,” he stated. “I observe you. I know when you’re lying,” he clenched his jaw. “Why are you defending the person who hurt you?”

“I’m not lying,” you protested.

“But you’re hiding something from me,” Feyd was relentless.

“Then we are only fair,” you put the book down as you looked at him angrily. “Your whole life is a secret kept away from me. Can’t I have mine?”

“Women on Giedi Prime do not have the same freedom as women on your planet do,” your husband reminded you. “A wife belongs to her husband in a way he will never belong to her.”

“What a relief then that I am not your wife,” you raised an eyebrow and he pursed his lips as he gave you a questioning look. “Because you have not consummated the union and refused so far to perform your duty and secure our bloodline.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Feyd snorted and looked away. “Stupid woman.”

“I do realise I am a disappointment to you. I am not one of the Imperial Princesses and I am not as interesting as your concubines. Not important enough, not attractive enough,” you decided to finally take your chance and tell him everything you had been feeling lately since it was the first opportunity to have some sort of conversation with your husband. He still refused to lay his eyes on you again. “I feel lonely, abandoned and rejected. Homesick. I want to be a good wife. I want to be a good na-baroness. But you’re not even giving me a chance. Out of boredom, I asked one of the generals to teach me how to fight and I hurt myself during training. Yes, it was pathetic of me. Go on, laugh. Make fun of me,” you encouraged him ironically. “At least it will be the very first reaction from you given to me in a long time.”

“Stop it! Stop,” Feyd-Rautha barked at you as he stood up and turned his back on you. He clutched his hands on the chair by his desk.

“Does the sound of my voice repulse you, too?” You asked, angrily. Now, when you finally let all these things out, you didn’t want to stop.

“You don’t understand!” He exclaimed and turned around to look at you with so much intensity that you curled up on the bed, feeling small and vulnerable. After all, he was a strong warrior and you were only a wounded prey. Like one of the rabbits in the forests on Morana, hunted by the hound dogs.

“Then explain it to me,” you whispered. “You owe me that at least.”

“I hurt everything I touch,” Feyd’s confession was sudden and it shocked you both. After a long while of silence between you two, he continued. “Just like him. It’s what this whole family is like.”

“I thought you liked to hurt,” you pointed out.

“Not you,” he answered nearly inaudibly. It was difficult for him to confess those things. You blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Why not me?” You asked, carefully.

“You’re supposed to be my wife. But I… I don’t know how to be a husband,” he looked at you again. You could swear that his sickly pale cheeks flushed slightly. “I was never… taught,” he explained.

“I didn’t expect you to be,” you admitted. “I knew life with you would be difficult. I knew you enough to know that. But nothing could prepare me for being… ignored. Completely,” you made your own confession as your heart pounded in your chest. You moved closer to him and reached your hands out, taking his gently and he didn’t even flinch. He just allowed it to happen, so you squeezed his cold fingers. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted.”

“It is not about that,” Feyd looked into your eyes. “And I do not ignore you. I let you be here. Sleep in my bed.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that was already a sign of affection,” you rolled your eyes.

“Protection,” he fixed you. “I don’t trust anyone here. They all work for my uncle,” he lowered his voice. “And as my wife, you are under my protection. If you want to learn how to fight,” he sighed and let go of your hands to sit on the edge of the bed again and reveal your bandaged thigh, “although I do not approve of that, from now on, it will be me training you. Do you understand? I don’t want any other man to teach you. I would never let this happen,” his fingertips brushed on your bandage and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

“I understand,” you nodded, trying not to smile too widely. Not exactly how you had imagined it but your plan to get your husband’s attention seemed to be working.

Feyd looked at your face again as his hand caressed your hair and cheek. You got startled at that at first but then you relaxed under his touch.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how to act around… a wife,” he admitted. “All I know is that she should not be treated like a common concubine.”

“So that is why you prefer to be around them. Because at least you know what to do,” you pointed out and he nodded. “You could have told me that.”

He laughed at your words, grinning with that black smile of his. It made you chuckle, too, as you realised how stupid your words were.

“That’s right. The Harkonnens don’t talk about their feelings,” you guessed.

“Our what?” Feyd squinted his eyes at you as his face became serious again. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between your father and my uncle. But the way you acted on our first night together, it made me realise you are not here by your own will. It brings me pleasure when my concubines fear me but I do not wish for my wife to be scared.”

“I’m not scared of you, Feyd-Rautha,” you assured him. “I have never been.”

He looked a little surprised by your confession.

“You admired me then,” he seemed to be proud of himself.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” you cooled down his enthusiasm. “You annoyed me,” you explained and he gave you a scolding look. However, he was more disappointed than angry. “You’re a spoiled Harkonnen brat.”

“Look who’s talking. Like you’re not a spoiled little noble lady who decided she wants to learn how to wield a knife out of boredom,” he pointed out.

“I know, I do not deny. Perhaps we are not a bad match at all,” you giggled and his eyes sparkled again. “I’m not used to warriors cheating in the arena, you know.”

“He says it is not the time yet to show my real abilities,” Feyd explained himself quickly, a little embarrassed that you pointed out his cheating. Honour was important to him and it was his weak spot.

“In the bedroom as well?” You raised an eyebrow, surprising your own self with your boldness. “Perhaps you have not been taught about being a husband but you surely know what your main duty is.”

“You’re eager,” he smirked.

“I am not a concubine but I am a woman like they are. I have my own needs and desires. You do not make it easy, ignoring me after coming to bed late at night, smelling like fresh sweat, blood and leather,” you pointed out.

“I fuck like I fight,” he warned you as his pupils darkened. His face was now so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your mouth and his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.

“Is that a promise?” You whispered.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he snorted at you and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You’re right. You have to show me,” you teased.

“No,” he moved back suddenly and you felt a sharp pain in your heart. He was so close… you nearly had him. “I don’t trust myself around you,” he admitted. “You will show me,” he told you as you raised your eyebrow.

“Me?” You swallowed thickly as his words.

“I’m yours,” he said. “Do whatever you wish with me. If a child is what you so badly want, to make your parents happy, to make my uncle happy,” he explained with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “then go on, explore, have fun. At your own pace.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realised that he was inviting you to initiate an intimacy between you two. You panicked as you had never expected that he’d want you to take a lead in the bedroom.

“I do not want to have a child to make anyone happy,” you fixed him. “Anyone but me. I want to secure our position on Giedi Prime,” you explained.

“So dutiful,” Feyd smirked.

“We share some values, dear husband,” you nodded and moved closer to him with a soft hiss as your injury reminded you of its presence.

“Easy, wife,” he watched you and you smirked as you put your arms around his neck.

“Are you sure you’re not doing it because you’re avoiding the paperwork?” You asked and pointed at the desk with your chin. Feyd sighed and you giggled. “I knew it,” you bit on your lower lip and sat astride him.

The first thing you did was to take off his shirt. You had observed his body many times before and the sight of his hard muscles had been the most delightful one. You tossed the shirt aside and gasped softly at your husband’s smooth pale skin. You allowed your fingertips to explore every crease, every bump, every vein and every tendon. Carefully, you leaned in and breathed in his scent as your lips softly brushed his shoulder.

His body was a work of art. Daily workouts and trainings were working miracles. He was strong and flexible. The sight alone was enough to make you feel hot. You began to feel the wetness between your legs as you allowed your fingertips to explore the upper part of his body. You tangled your legs behind his waist and moved your hands to his back, feeling the bumpy skin full of thin scars scattered all over. You had noticed them before but only now you gained the courage to ask him about them.

“Was it him?” You asked and Feyd nodded, carefully watching your reaction. But you didn’t flinch or make a disgusted face. You were sad about it. The scars were old. He had to be a young and scared boy once, tortured by his uncle to turn him into the ruthless killing machine he was now.

You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.

“Turn around,” you asked and he looked unsure. “You said I could explore and play. I want you to turn around,” you repeated and he nodded, hesitantly, before moving away softly, making sure he wouldn’t hurt your injured thigh. Then he turned his back on you and looked behind his shoulder to see what you were about to do.

You put your hands around his waist and moved closer, still caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen, you leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses up and down his scarred back. From the short conversation you managed to have with your husband you quickly realised that what Feyd-Rautha had never known in his life was tenderness. You wanted to be the first and only person to give it to him. You were his wife and that was your job.

He flinched at the feeling of your soft lips upon his scars but then he relaxed. You lowered the hands resting on his muscular chest and put them on his hips as you shyly hesitated for a while before finally placing one of your palms on his crotch. Innocently peppering his back with delicate kisses, your hand started to massage his bulge through the fabric of his pants. He groaned softly and you froze.

“Don’t stop,” he scolded you.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you took the hand away and moved back. “You told me I could do it at my own pace. I am not a concubine to order me around,” you reminded him and he turned around to face you again, surprised by your tone. “I am not a shy mouse, Feyd-Rautha. You seem to be aware that women on Morana have more rights. I was raised by a strong Tsarina.”

“Forgive me, I am still learning,” he answered with an amount of sincerity that left you speechless for a moment. As if he really tried to be a good husband.

“It’s quite alright,” you caressed his shoulder. “Lay down for me?” You encouraged and he nodded, quietly.

Feyd moved up on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and you crouched down, waiting for him to be on display for your needy hands. The fact that this terrifying warrior that nearly everyone feared seemed to be so obedient for you just because you were his wife was making you even more and more aroused.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured as you caressed his chest again. “I mean it.”

“So are you,” he confessed as he looked up at you and you shyly lowered your gaze. “I mean it,” he repeated your words.

“I haven’t felt very beautiful lately,” you admitted.

“I didn’t know,” he confessed.

You didn’t want to talk about it now. You lowered yourself to his neck and sucked on the soft skin only to soothe it with a kiss right after. You went down with your kisses, making sure to leave it upon every inch of his torso before you finally found yourself facing his crotch. His pants looked very tight at the moment. Too tight.

Shyly but curiously, you unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his underwear, watching his hard cock twitching at the feeling of your hot breath. His size impressed you but also made you anxious. You helped Feyd to get rid of his clothes completely and tossed them on the floor before leaning in again.

You grabbed his length carefully as he hissed out of pleasure, trying not to think of all the concubines he had before you – concubines who knew how to please him way better than you did. You hesitated before placing a delicate kiss on the tip.

“Be patient with me, I am only learning,” you looked up, giving him puppy eyes. He was looking down at you with darkened pupils and haze in his gaze.

“Have fun down there,” he growled and threw his head back. You giggled and went back to the soft kisses and kitten licks as your hand pumped his length.

“I’m glad you didn’t take me on our wedding night,” you admitted. “This is so much more fun,” you squeezed his tip and he bucked his hip with a grunt as you watched the black precum leaking out.

You had been educated enough by your mother, servants, medics and all the explicit books you could find in the library. You smirked and licked him clean before lowering your head and taking him as far down your throat as you were able to. You kept yourself steady by holding his muscular thighs but when you felt his cock twitching a little, you let go quickly; your drool mixed with his thick black precum leaked down your chin. Feyd looked up with an annoyed expression on his face but he didn’t say anything this time.

“We can have more fun once I’m expecting. Now we can’t waste any of that, can we?” You tilted your head and pulled your nightgown up to your hips before moving up and lining his cock with your glistening pussy. You swallowed thickly at the sight of how hard and big he was.

“Take your time,” Feyd put his hands on your hips. “It’s a lot to take,” he bragged.

“Oh, so you think I can’t handle it?” You raised an eyebrow.

Just like when it came to wielding a blade, you didn’t like being told that you couldn’t handle something. You were an impatient lady.

“I am your wife,” you reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself. The feeling of his swollen tip brushing your clit made you shiver but you bravely kept a poker face on. “I was made to take your cock and carry your children,” you added. “No matter how big it is, I’m going to take it.”

Feyd winked at you and your heart skipped a beat at that. He could be adorable at times, you had to admit. It made you happy that you could finally experience this side of him. It was worth all the pain your injury had been causing you.

You lowered yourself some more, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he tightened the squeeze on your hips, surely bruising them, too. You hissed and shut your eyes as you threw your head back.

The pain mixed with pleasure, the overwhelming fulfilment with an endless desire to feel him even deeper, to fill you even further, to make you swell and heavy with his children. When you finally sat fully on his cock, you let out a moan of his name as your walls twitched and squeezed him.

“Easy, wife, take your time,” he reminded you. His hands were keeping you down, not letting you move for a while. He was giving you time to adjust to his size and you opened your eyes to look at him below you. You gasped at the admiration on his face. All those weeks of feeling unattractive suddenly vanished from your memory.

You were a daughter of your planet. Morana was known for its fertile soil like you would be known for bearing his heirs. You were his goddess at that moment but you didn’t feel the need to be cruel towards your subject.

“I want you closer,” you breathed out and he nodded, sitting up very carefully, making sure not to hurt you. Once his back rested on the pillow behind him, you clinged to his chest and joined your lips with his in a kiss as your hips began to move slowly.

Feyd’s hands moved your hips and helped you to find the right pace and rhythm. Soon enough you were bouncing on that big cock with ease that came with desire. Feeling that you didn’t require so much of his help anymore, one of your husband’s hands moved down and rested on your bandage. His touch was unusually gentle and you moaned into his mouth, not breaking the hungry kiss even for a second.

After all those weeks of being left abandoned and touch starved, you just wanted to devour him. Nothing mattered; certainly not your wound, not the sweat, not the exhaustion. Your only goal was to chase the high that was coming.

Feeling that your movements became chaotic, Feyd cupped your face and groaned into your mouth as his own hips picked up the pace, taking control over you. You trembled and let out muffled cries of pleasure as he rutted roughly inside of you through your orgasm. Not long after you felt his thick black cum spilling deep inside of you as both of your bodies relaxed.

You broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. Your husband wiped all the tears off of your cheeks and laid your head on his shoulder gently. You hugged his chest and cuddled him like that in silence.

“Do you remember what you promised?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “That next time you want to train, you’re coming to me.”

“Yes,” you smiled to yourself. “But I am only learning,” you added, shyly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me.”

“If you’re a quick learner with the blade like you are in the bedroom, then you will soon laugh at me,” he assured you and caressed your back as you giggled into the crook of his neck.

“You’re a quick learner, too, Feyd-Rautha,” you looked up as he looked down, confused. “How to be a husband, I mean,” you explained.

You watched the servant girls painting your husband’s beautiful body with the black war paint as you caressed your swollen bump through the fabric of your dress. They finished their job and took a few steps back with their heads kept low. One of them handed you the bowl of the black liquid and you approached him as he smiled.

You dipped your finger in the paint and drew one of the symbols of your people on his chest. He looked down, questioningly.

“And what does this one mean?” He asked.

“It ensures good favours of the gods and victory in battle,” you explained softly.

“You know that he hates it when you do that,” Feyd reminded you. Baron Harkonnen would prefer you to become a Harkonnen and give up your old ways completely instead of teaching Feyd more about your culture.

“I know,” you looked up. “That’s why I do that.”

In the beginning you had been indifferent to his uncle but the more you found out about him and the damage he had done to your husband, the more you hated him.

Feyd nodded at you and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Na-Baron, five minutes,” one of the servants reminded him of the time left.

“I will bring you the hearts of my enemies,” he cupped your face as he looked deep into your eyes while making a promise.

“I have only one enemy,” you reminded him, “and he is not in the arena today.”

Feyd nodded quietly. He put his hand on your swollen belly and caressed it.

“Take care of your mother for me for a while,” he said and you chuckled with an eye-roll.

You watched him put the last pieces of clothes and take his blades. You couldn’t wait for the day when he’d become The Baron and he wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Even though the fights were fixed, you still feared for his life. And to think you had used to find this practice unhonourable. Now you were glad that his combats were cheated.

“Slava, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you blessed him.

He turned his head around for the last time to wink at you playfully and give you his black grin.

“I’ll be right back.”

MASTERLIST

[pa1nrema1ns]

Master and Apprentice || Sung Jin-woo (Part 1 of 3)

Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader

A/N - Hello everyone! This fic was inspired by the lovely @forbidden-sunlight's siren!au. We both collaborated on this piece and it serves as a direct sequel to her imagine, so do be sure to check it out first! This story picks up right where her imagine left off.

╰┈➤ Chapter Index

🪸 Prequel by @forbidden-sunlight 🌊 Part 2: Two Intertwining Melodies

Content warnings: 18+ MDNI, mythical creatures au, canon divergent, a/b/o dynamics, afab!reader, suggestive themes, obsessive thoughts, slightly ooc Jin-woo (he's very reverent towards Ashborn), mentions of violence, death, and despair, forbidden romance (humans and sirens are natural enemies), eventual yandere!Jin-woo.

Word Count - 3.6k

Summary - Sung Jin-woo seeks answers about his potential mate from Ashborn in the deepest depths of the abyss.

Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics

After what feels like an eternity, Jin-woo comes to an abrupt stop. He wasn’t tired in the slightest, but he couldn’t finish this journey unless he was in the right frame of mind. If he was going to face the sea monarch, Ashborn, then he needed to compose himself. He was his mentor’s prized disciple, after all.

Resolute in his decision, Jin-woo pinches his brow, shuts his eyes, and releases a deep, suffering sigh. He had to stop ruminating over the useless ‘what ifs’ of his current situation and focus on the matter at hand. You emitting pheromones in his presence was proof enough that you were a compatible mate, but this would be meaningless if you were unreceptive to him. It also begs the question, was humanity even capable of consorting with sirens? In search of an answer, he reminisces about the tales of old passed down by generations of his kin, as well as the many speculations made by humans.

No one knew the exact origins of his species. Most humans assumed the progenitors were Persephone’s handmaidens, punished by Demeter after Hades had taken her daughter to the underworld and forced her into becoming his queen. Some stories also claimed that seafoam  birthed them, but Jin-woo scoffed at this particularly ridiculous rumor. A scholar had recently published an article on how sirens may actually be the offspring of the river deity Achelous and a divine songstress, citing notations from various mythos on this theory. In truth, reality was far simpler than any of these far-fetched narratives.

There was just no definitive explanation for the existence of sirens. They were not interchangeable with the peaceful denizens of the ocean, known as mermaids and mermen. While all fell under the umbrella of the term ‘merfolk,’ the sirens had a far more hostile and bloodstained relationship with humans.

Since time immemorial, his brethren were viewed as nothing but a scourge upon this world of humanity. Beautiful as a raging typhoon and every bit as devastating, the sirens served as harbingers of doom and destruction for those foolish enough to risk the perilous waters. Their heavenly voices were tantamount to the funeral dirges used to usher the dead into the afterlife. It would be understandable to believe that the sirens were the monsters in this baleful story. However, human nature at its core is fraught with wickedness, and men soon grew wise to the machinations of merfolk.

Odysseus was the first to survive an encounter with sirens. During his voyage to Ithaca, the cunning man had instructed his crew to plug their ears with beeswax, effectively blocking the intoxicating songs that had ended the lives of so many before them. Emboldened by the success of Odysseus’s scheme, other sailors began using this method to conquer the sea and establish trade routes. Within a matter of a couple hundred years, humans not only overcame their fear of sirens, but they also poached them. Huntsmen would capture, torture, and kill Jin-woo’s ancestors simply for crossing paths with them. Worse yet, these scoundrels would often murder merfolk solely to harvest their organs, bones, and scales. They would then use the defiled corpses as ingredients for commodities, medication, and even aphrodisiacs. It was truly grotesque, if not outright barbaric, and more than justified the ire his kind felt towards humanity. While they hunted for the noble sake of survival, men did it for bloodsport and money.

The horrific fates suffered by many of their beloved brothers and sisters particularly infuriated the alphas, with their robust constitutions and natural sense of leadership. With a thirst for vengeance, they began targeting and attacking ships, ports, and even beaches. The alphas considered any place or vehicle that harbored humans as eligible targets. The less temperamental betas remained neutral and avoided the bloodshed, opting to prey upon shoals of fish and other maritime animals instead. Omegas could not join in the hunt, as they were far too precious to lose. They were the most cherished and talented singers amongst the sirens and required around-the-clock protection because of their significant rarity. These were the origins of the current hierarchical structure Jin-woo adhered to.

After recalling the tumultuous history of his people in its entirety, Jin-woo clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. This was so damn frustrating! Rather than granting him an understanding of his attraction, it just proved all the more why it was so illogical. 

Defeated, Jin-woo raises his head, opens his eyes, and continues to swim.

Another hour passes before he finds himself at the ingress of Ashborn’s lair. His enigmatic teacher lived in almost complete obscurity. Devoid of any light, and enveloped by a suffocating aura, this nautical cavern intimidated all who dared to approach it. Well, almost all that is apart from Jin-woo. He effortlessly permeates the invisible barrier designed to keep intruders at bay and ventures into his master’s spiritual domain.

Despite being an ancient and powerful king of the sea, Ashborn made the strange decision to emulate a land-like environment in his personal chambers.

As Jin-woo manifests into the realm, his appearance gives way to a form more befitting of a land dweller. His tail separates into two legs, his scales smoothen into skin, and he loses the winged fins on his ears and back. Once finished with this metamorphosis, Jin-woo takes a deep breath. Fresh pine, grass, and flowers perfume the air as he’s greeted by a lush valley. It had been a while since he had visited, and the setting had required him to transform into a human. Interestingly, transfiguration was one of the first skills Ashborn taught him. Speaking of his mentor –

“My disciple, it is good to see you again, though you appear…troubled. Tell me, what ails you so?” A rumbling voice rings across the horizon, signaling Ashborn’s approach; the tenebrous essence of the powerful deity contrasting with the greenery of the land. He appears in front of Jin-woo as a great dark knight. Much like his surroundings, Ashborn’s current visage was nothing but an illusion. Even the bravest of warriors said that his lifelike image invoked sheer terror in their hearts.

Many speculate he possesses a massive stature, at least several leagues in height and breadth alone, with piercing eyes and endless tendrils of dark hair. Others claim he is the son of Poseidon, one of the twelve Olympians, and a God of destruction who presided over the sea. However, Jin-woo never once witnessed this side of his teacher in all the years he’s been under his mentorship. Ashborn certainly exuded dignity, but he still displayed a humble attitude. And without fail, he would always appear in that strange, armored suit whenever he was in Jin-woo’s presence.

“My teacher, I must ask for your help on an urgent matter,” Jin-woo starts, anxiously running his tongue across his bottom lip. “This morning, while I was scavenging, I stumbled across the unmistakable aroma of an unmarked omega. It…it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. As if I was being beckoned by someone or something. I wanted, no, I needed to heed its call.”

Ashborn listens in silence, his expression indiscernible. Jin-woo continued.

 “When I arrived, I was in front of a monstrosity of a ship – a yacht right by the sandbanks. At first, I assumed that someone had taken an unfortunate siren captive. But when I finally saw her–”

“You recognized she was human. Not only that, but she belongs to the lowest level of the hierarchy, an omega. Speak if I am wrong, my dear pupil.” Jin-woo lowers his head in shame, fringe obscuring his eyes. This action all but confirms it.

“I don’t know what to do or how to proceed, teacher. Everything I’ve learned about these creatures has made me detest them. But I can’t bring myself to hate her. How could this even be possible? We are not even of the same species. She’s my enemy, my prey…. At least, she’s supposed to be.” His voice lowers into a near whisper as he ends his confused rambling.

“And yet you don’t view her that way, do you child?” Ashborn poses a question he already knows the answer to but needs to hear in his pupil’s own words.

“No, I don’t,” Jin-woo replies grimly. “I yearn to know more about her. And not just that. I want to meet her, court her, and make her mine. If she’ll even have me, that is… So please, teacher, tell me if there is any meaning behind what I feel. Am I destined for something that bears no place in reality?”

Ashborn remains uncharacteristically quiet while faced with such a loaded question. All is eerily silent for a few moments, save for the cheerful chirping of the illusionary songbirds. At last, the monarch gazes at Jin-woo and gives him the answer he so desperately desires.

“It is entirely possible Sung Jin-woo, alpha of Jindo island, for I am proof of such a fantastical circumstance. My first and only love was also a human omega. A woman I devoted my entire being to over a millennium ago.”

Jin-woo’s eyes widened in shock at this revelation. His mentor had fallen in love at some point, and it was with a member of the human race? This was unheard of.

“I never knew you had a lover,” Jin-woo murmurs softly. “What was she like? Do you still remember everything about her after so many years?”

“Let me show you, my disciple. It is a tragic tale that words alone cannot properly convey.” With a wave of Ashborn’s hand, their surroundings began to morph and alter. The valley transforms into a spacious, yet quaint medieval village composed of several wooden houses with a bustling marketplace at its center.

When Jin-woo regains his bearings, he notices his mentor has also metamorphosized. A man with a sun kissed complexion, long dark hair, and a beard stands where he once stood. Though visibly unrecognizable, he was unmistakably Ashborn. A crimson cape was clasped to the pristine silver armor he wore. A paladin. Jin-woo recalls. He had some knowledge of the past lives of men through his rare excursions onto the Mainland. While disguised as a human, Jin-woo once traded in his goods for a textbook on history. He was loath to admit just how intriguing he had found it.

Ashborn speaks, his voice no longer resonating within the confines of shadowy steel.

“It was here in this village that I came across her. She was the only daughter of a peasant farmer. A strong-willed, rapscallion of a woman with a wit sharper than any blade. I can remember her beauty, her warmth, and her tenacity as clear and concise as the day we met.” He says with a wistful gaze. The scene then shifts to a woman in a pure white gown. Her eyes remained hidden, but it did nothing to impede upon her loveliness. The woman runs animatedly towards a man who looks identical to Ashborn’s borrowed likeness and leaps into his arms. The man then effortlessly spins her around before bringing her into a kiss. Jin-woo watches on, mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him.

“I feared her rejection once she knew the truth of my identity,” Ashborn admits. “On the night we first made love, I finally revealed to her my status as ruler of the sea. However, it did not matter. She loved me wholly and unconditionally, regardless of who or what I was. Such was the strength of her resolve.” In the next instance, they return to the same valley from earlier. What differs this time is that the man and woman are there, unacknowledging of Jin-woo and Ashborn’s presence. Lost in their own special world. The woman has a flower crown on her head, and she sits on the grass, holding the man’s head in her lap. Both appear happy and at ease.

“For the first time in my existence, I experienced true contentment. I long to return to those days, but alas, our bliss did not last.”

Ashborn solemnly shuts his eyes as darkness overtakes the sky and rain falls. The man is now shown standing at a grave with an expression of anguish marring his face. The woman is nowhere to be seen, although Jin-woo knows exactly where she’s at.

“A plague was scourging the land and indiscriminately ending the lives of thousands. I tried to protect her with my magic, but it was to no avail. She fell gravely ill despite my best efforts. I discovered shortly thereafter that omegas were more susceptible to sickness than their contemporaries. If I had known beforehand, I would’ve brought her to the sea with me, away from that damned disease. But I was a fool who was willing to love and live with her as a man, not as a king. And as punishment for my hubris, an ailment snuffed out her life.”

At the end of his recollection, Ashborn’s lair returns to its original state. His mentor had also regained his shadowy exterior. The valley appears completely untouched by time, as if it were still one thousand years in the past. That’s why his lair looks like this. Jin-woo thinks as he finally recognizes its significance, It was their personal sanctuary. After a few moments of silence, Ashborn speaks.

“Although our circumstances are similar, you still have the privilege of choice. I cannot turn back time, nor can I change the past, but I am grateful. I experienced unspeakable grief, yes, but I also would have never encountered such love, tenderness, and passion had I not taken a chance on my omega. You, my disciple, still have free rein over your decision. Should you choose to pursue this woman, you have my blessing and irrefutable proof that she is a viable mate for you. If not, you will still receive my unwavering support in your future endeavors. The choice is yours to make.”

Jin-woo’s throat bobs. He feels an incredible sense of guilt at unearthing his master’s secret.

“My teacher, I apologize for prying into your past. I – I did not mean to bring up painful memories for you. I cannot imagine what you have endured. As of right now, I am not sure what it is I want, but I know for a fact I cannot give up on this human. I will need some time to contemplate and sort out my feelings. If you will excuse me.”

Jin-woo bows his head before turning to take his leave. As he approaches the exit, a sudden thought emerges at the forefront of his mind.

“Teacher, there is one more question I must ask. This human, she does not speak with words. She communicates with her hands and gestures. Is this some type of sorcery or spell that she’s casting?”

“It is most likely sign language, a manner of non-verbal communication used by humans who are unable to vocalize or hear. Perhaps she cannot speak, or has a hearing impairment, so she must express herself through other means.” Ashborn answers, curiosity lacing his voice.

Jin-woo feels his heart sinking. A siren’s serenade played a pivotal role in the mating ritual and was performed just prior to consummating an eternal bond. If what Ashborn said is true, then there is a possibility you could be immune to his song. This meant he wouldn't be able to use it on you when the time came…

He grits his teeth as he remembers your smiling face. Try as he might, Jin-woo just could not get you out of his head, nor was he willing to let you escape his grasp. You may not have realized it yet, but you had unknowingly sunk your fangs into him and the seeds of obsession were already beginning to take root. Rather than being discouraged by Ashborn’s observation, he instead finds himself reinvigorated.

“Teacher, disregard everything I said earlier. I now know what it is I must do.”

Ashborn peers into the eyes of his disciple, relieved by the determination that lights them. This was much more like the obstinate young man he knew.

“I choose to seek this omega and stake my claim, no matter what challenges may await the two of us,” Jin-woo proclaims proudly. “I will make her mine, but only if she consents to my proposal. And if not through song, then through other courtship methods. I am strong, stronger than any other alpha in my territory, and I know I can protect her from all who would wish her harm. I won’t let my mate slip through my fingers.”

“But what of maladies and the passage of time? You can fight against gods and monsters until the end of your days, but sickness or her ephemeral lifespan will not spare this young woman. In the end, your time with her shall be fleeting.” Ashborn ruthlessly counters Jin-woo’s declaration of protection.

Jin-woo bites his lip, not expecting this development. However, before he can muster a response, his mentor graces him with an answer.

“I know of one way you can overcome this. There is a recipe for an elixir known as the Holy Water of Life. It is a miraculous potion that can imbue invulnerability to communicable diseases, extend lifespan, and transform the consumer into a siren. I unfortunately did not have knowledge of such a panacea while I was with my love. Of course, I live with the regret of not discovering it sooner, as now I have no such use for it, but this does not mean I will idly stand by and let history repeat itself with my protégé.”

With a flash of light, an ancient scroll appears in front of Jin-woo. It unravels by itself to reveal its contents to him. Jin-woo’s eyes widen as he reads. Is this…?

“Behold. The ingredients for crafting the Holy Water of Life. I bequeath this boon unto you, my disciple. However, heed my warning as the acquisition of these components requires you to conquer all 100 floors of the Demon’s Castle and to defeat its king, Baran. This is a treacherous dungeon that may claim your life if you are unprepared for it, but it can also impart you with unspeakable power should you prevail.”

Jin-woo perks up at this information, his interest now fully piqued. “Tell me, master, where can I find the Demon’s Castle?”

“It hides far away, in the city of Seoul, within an incorporeal dominion. It is a flame-ridden landscape that will require you to assume the form of a human to enter the castle. Knowing all the risks it entails; do you still accept my offer?”

“I do,” Jinwoo confidently states.

“Very well,” Ashborn nods his assent, and a key materializes into Jin-woo’s palm.

“Use this key to open the gate to the Demon’s Castle. I have also implanted it with the coordinates to the dungeon’s location. You need only close your eyes and grasp onto the key to visualize it.”

Following the instructions, Jin-woo sees a map that details the exact distance from his current whereabouts to the metropolitan area of Seoul. It will be a lengthy trip, even with his impressive swimming prowess. He estimates it will take roughly half a day to arrive at his destination. Undeterred, Jin-woo presses onward.

“Teacher, I cannot thank you enough for all your help and guidance over these last few years. I give you my word; I will return alive and well, both with the elixir and Baran’s head. And then I will meet with the omega and court her in earnest.”

He departs without another word, although his promise relays an unspoken farewell between them. After some time passes, Ashborn stares at the vast skies of his domain and muses to himself.

“You have grown so much from when I rescued you from the Cartenon Temple all those years ago, Sung Jin-woo. I could not be prouder of you, my disciple. Till our next encounter.”

12 hours later...

Jin-woo finally emerges from the dark, briny waters that frame Seoul’s coastline.

After leaving Ashborn’s lair, he briefly returned home to pack and prepare for the journey ahead. Both Jin-ah and his mother were worried about his sudden departure, so he did the best he could to assuage their fears by giving them a sanitized version of the truth.

Jin-woo claimed Ashborn had provided him with a list of rare ingredients that were only available for purchase in the human markets at Seoul. He even promised to bring back a box of chocolates as a souvenir, something his mother and little sister had enjoyed during one of his return trips to the surface. He then traveled the full 413-kilometer distance from Jindo-gun to Seoul, stopping only for a few hours to rest and recuperate.

As he approaches land, he assumes the form of a naked human man and walks inland from the sea. However, Jin-woo comes to a halt when he becomes more aware of his current state of nudity. While it didn’t bother him, it would cause a lot of unnecessary trouble if any nosy beachgoers happened upon him and asked questions. It is also…pretty embarrassing to admit that he is…wobbly on these legs. Very much so.

He quickly summons his magical inventory and grabs a simple black t-shirt, boxers, fitted jeans, and athletic sneakers (‘Adidas’, the portly sales attendant had called them). As worthless as he found human decorum to be, Jin-woo needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible while he was in disguise. Once dressed, he strolled into the city. After 45 minutes, he found himself at the designated street junction on the map. Taking a deep breath, he brings forth the key, turns it, and unlocks the gate. 

⚓︎ To be continued...

[ghouldump]

more loustat x chill/unbothered/oblivious fem reader PLEASE!!

maybe she's like been a part of their relationship for a while, and she like the fledgling of some other vampire, her and her maker were like chill and totally platonic he dipped at some point before she met loustat, and she like the sane one between them and unfortunately gets ignored/left out unfortunately

something like the scene from season 1 where Louis swims across the Mississippi river to get to Lestat, and like reader is there too cause she went w Louis and loustat being there dramatic selves while she's just like trying to talk it out like adults, and then it spirals into argument about her wanting to visit her maker because Lestat, and tbh Louis too, is petty like that

Also your iwtv fics are my life line omg!!🎀

L'amour De Ma Vie | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

I love this idea, I hope you don't mind me changing it a little bit 🩷

“Louis, Y/n, you’re both soaking wet,” Lestat sat up from the bed.

Glancing at Louis, you could tell he was seconds away from slapping the smirk from Lestat’s face. The woman, Antoinette, wrapped one of the many sheets around her body, awkwardly staring at the two of you.

“Leave,” he told her, and just like that, she was up, running out of the bedroom.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you, and we…found you,” you answered. Louis remained silent, staring at Lestat, his mind all over the place from his companion's betrayal.

You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you didn't. Your maker, Lucius, lives a polyamorous lifestyle. From the moment he turned you, becoming his daughter, you saw the plethora of women and men come and go. Eternity was too long for him to stay with one person, he'd jokingly say, leaving a trail of broken hearts.

“You put your lover on the song, and expect us to come running back to you,” Louis screamed at him.

“I wanted a clear voice, to get the-

“I don’t give a fuck,” Louis interrupted.

“Louis, we agreed that we would just talk it out,” you told him, watching as he was fuming, but he ignored your words.

“You two swam to Mississippi to find me,” Lestat kept the same expression, eyeing the both of you lustfully.

“I swim faster than I drive,” Louis said, his fangs coming out.

“We don’t have to fight like this, we can find a middle ground-

“No, why are you acting unbothered by him stepping out on both of us?” Louis asked.

“I’m not, polyamory isn’t a deal breaker for me, so I feel like-

“He cheated Y/n, whatever bullshit you were exposed to by your maker, doesn’t apply in this relationship,” he told you, catching you off guard.

“That isn’t what I’m saying, we came here because of the song but also because we’ve agreed to make things work”

“So why are you acting like you’re on his side?”

“Louis, what are you talking about? Just because I’m not as angry as you, doesn’t mean I am against you, Lucius has always said anger is-

“Do you always have to bring him up?” Lestat asked a slight frown in place.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius, are you with us, or Lucius?” He raised his voice. Furrowing your eyebrows, you were extremely confused, about how the conversation went from Lestat’s infidelity to your relationship with your maker.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing,” you said, backing away.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Louis shook his head, mentally criticizing himself for his choice of words.

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, before leaving, due to your small age difference in your makers, you were faster than Louis, going back home.

You hated this feeling, this emotion, how your mind made you think of things that never bothered you too much before, but now did. From the moment you joined their companionship, you were constantly unintentionally excluded. Even in public, you cringed at times you were assumed to be nothing more than a friend of the two.

Entering the home you had grown to love, you went upstairs, packing some clothing in a bag. You were thankful that Claudia was out hunting, knowing your departure wouldn’t be so smooth if she’d been home. Leaving the bedroom, the family portrait caught your eye, making you pout.

Claudia sat on the sofa, while you, stood next to Louis and Lestat, who leaned against the sofa. You had been hesitant to take the photos, but they all insisted. As the photographer went to snap the photo, Lestat glanced at you.

“Come closer,” he said, pulling you between him and Louis.

His hand on your waist, while Louis held your hand, you all looked like a happy family.

Wiping the tear from your eye, you thought of how despite the occasional exclusion, they did so much more that made you overlook the habit. Maybe you could just get away for a little while, before coming back home.

Glamouring your way from state to state, for well over 24 hours, before you arrived in Los Angeles. Lucius fit into the bright city where stars and beauty resided. As you drained the shipment driver, you felt your blood pumping, an adrenaline rush of excitement coursing through your veins. Lifting from the man, you looked around, sensing the familiar presence near.

“I knew it was you I was sensing,” you heard, smiling brightly, you climbed out of the truck, running into Lucius' arms. His expensive scent filled your nose, as you wiped your mouth.

“What are you wearing, my love, is this what they wear down in New Orleans?” he asked, staring at your outfit. Beige trousers, along with a light pink blouse, he shook his head in disapproval. He considered himself to have impeccable taste in clothing, but he also was old-fashioned in some ways.

“I couldn't have traveled practically in a dress,” you said.

“I am more than glad that you are here, but why so sudden? I mean, no letter or postcard”

“I just wanted to get away from home for a while”

“Those two aren't treating you right? They are easily replaceable, what have I always told you, an eternity is-

“too long to be stuck with the same person, and I should always explore my taste, I know, and Louis and Lestat are fine, I just wanted to get away, I was hoping I could stay with you, for some time, if that's alright”

“Of course, you are always welcome,” he said, walking you to his car.

He didn't live too far away, in an expensive neighborhood, his villa home, the most extravagant. Stepping out, you immediately noticed the woman, peaking from the window.

“You have company?”

“Yes, Sonya, she wants to be an actor”

“You said that weirdly, is she special, maybe a potential companion?” you asked him, grinning.

“She has very sweet blood and an equally cute face, so I keep her around”

“You were just talking about me being with the same people-

“My love, this is different, she has grown on me, yes, but I think we both know I’ll eventually crave something new,” he smirked, as he wrapped his arm around you, leading you into the house.

“Shameless,” you laughed.

“It's true, and the best part of all, when the sex is wonderful they always come running back, come on, I have an extra coffin, you can sleep in”

“I went all the way to Metairie, and nothing, what about you?” Louis announced, walking back into the house. Pacing the floor, while Lestat sat at the piano, staring off into space.

“Why is he back here, I thought we weren’t talking to him right now? And where’s Y/n?” Claudia asked.

“Not now Clau-

“She’s gone, she took some clothes and left,” Lestat finally spoke.

“She can’t be too far, we can still find her and-

“I’ve been all over Mississippi, searching, nothing, not a trace, I can’t think of where she could be and I’m not her m-” Stopping in his speech, he put his head down, clenching his jaw. His leg shook lightly, trying to contain his anger.

“What is it?” Louis asked as he and Claudia stared confusedly at him.

“She’s with her maker,” he managed to get out.

His eyes reddened as he grew angrier, Lestat couldn’t help that he was inherently jealous, unrighteously possessive, especially towards those he loved, and that was very few. You were the most relaxed, forgiving vampire he'd ever met. Extremely oblivious and doting, you'd brag to whoever would listen about how great he was.

While he and Louis held all of the attention, he could hear you bragging to some mortal how well-dressed Louis was, or how Lestat was the greatest musician to grace your ears. You would go on and on, stroking their egos, willingly accepting and loving their baggage Claudia, you were a precious gem, adored by them both.

Your personality was much calmer than theirs, while they regularly clashed, you'd be bringing up calming methods, or ignoring them, chatting with Claudia.

“You have the power over your anger, Lucius was once a cruel angry vampire until he realized it was pointless, if the situation can be fixed, then do it, but if not, leave it in the past,” you'd quote.

Lucius, Lestat hated the man greatly, despite never coming across him before. Suppose his hate began from the respect you held for the man. He was around the same age as Lestat, from Italy, and was very handsome, he'd heard you say before.

He wished he could undo time so that he could become your maker. His blood in your veins, your heart in sync with his own, his fully, bound by more than your vow of companionship. While Louis only hated the man for the weird lifestyle habits he passed along to you, Lestat loathed the idea of another being nearly as perfect as he was to you.

“Lucius speaks French too, although he's more fluent in Italian”

“Lucius is also into fashion, he used to dress me all the time”

“Lucius was once a part of an opera, but he ended up causing a bit of drama because he slept with nearly everyone who worked there”

“Lucius…”

“Lucius…”

Lestat sat frozen seething at the thought of the man. He wanted nothing more than to kill him for making his way into your heart, he couldn't care less about the kind of relationship you'd shared with him.

“Uncle Les,” Claudia called out, exchanging a look with Louis.

“We can still get her to come home, he has sent her mail before,” looking around, he sent to the pile of mail, looking through and seeing the ripped-open envelope.

“Los Angeles, she's in Los Angeles, we can find her,” Louis approached Lestat, showing him the mail.

“She's gone, she's gone back to him and left us,” Lestat mumbled to himself, already crying.

“Hey, we’re gonna find her and she'll hear out, she’ll come back home,” Louis told Lestat, also trying to convince himself, as tears dropped from his eyes.

“I’m going to bed,” Lestat sulked.

“So you can cry all night? Do you want Y/n to come back or not, I sure as hell got used to some peace around here, we have the address, we can easily find a way out there, stop being so dramatic,” Claudia screamed at him.

“I preferred her quiet,” he said, sniffling.

“We can get her back home, you know how she is, she'll want to talk it out before we're back on the road”

“The insufferable therapy sessions,” he chimed in, as he wiped his eyes.

“Exactly, we can start planning right now,” Louis said, his companion nodded in agreement.

“How much do I need to pack?” Claudia asked.

“What makes you think you could come?” Lestat asked her, crossing his legs.

“Because I care about Y/n too”

“We won't be gone for long Claudia, we're just trying to get her to come back home,” Louis said to her, watching as she stepped away.

“If Y/n was here, she would not be okay with you just leaving me here,” she said, stomping upstairs.

“Where should we start?”

“Why don’t you turn Sonya? It’s so obvious that you care about her?” You asked Lucius as you danced to the classical record, in the considerably large living room. Wearing the custom gown he'd gifted you, both of your mouths were covered in blood from the guest of the orgy he'd hosted.

It had been nearly a week of spending time with him, and you were enjoying every moment of the easygoing, carefree life.

“None of this music is as good as it once was, going to see Paganini, I had never heard an instrument played so beautifully,” he shook his head, ignoring your question.

“Lucius,” you called his name knowingly, forcing him to look at you.

“I can't turn her, I…I love her,” he admitted, dipping you.

“If you love her, you'd turn her, and you both can have eternity together,” you told him, but he smiled, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“If I love her, then I'll let her live, have children of her own, and pass on as a pretty little elderly woman,” he said.

“Very noble of you,” you joked.

“I guess, but I’ll hold on until that time comes, I have another two years, and she’ll be twenty-seven”

“Aw, Lucius, are you sure you don't want me to do it?” you asked, as he continued to dance.

“Love looks different for everyone, my love, you, of all people, understand that,” he chuckled.

“I guess you're right”

“I suppose that is why your lovers are about to burst into my home,” he said with a smile, as he held you close.

“Yeah, probably, wait, wh-

Just then, the front door burst open, Lestat and Louis storming it, although, they had different targets, rushing over. Louis stood in front of you, pulling you away, into his arms, already pleading that you forgive him for how he spoke and his recent habit of exclusion.

While Lestat instantly had Lucius against the wall, his hand to his throat. Your maker only laughed, you truly learned well, both of these men wrapped completely around your finger, and you didn't even realize it.

“Lestat, don't,” you told him, hearing his chaotic thoughts, he wanted Lucius dead.

“You leave without a word, in the middle of the night. Countless arguments, and the moment he comes up, you up and leave me, leave us,” he screamed.

“We can talk about it, but I need you to let him go, I don't want to see you two fighting, so please, just release him,” you said, exhaling a breath of air, as he let go, growling at Lucius, who nonchalantly walked to you.

“You've done so well, my love, they're like your two little dogs,” he laughed, turning off the music.

“Lucius,” you warned lightly, as he pulled you close to whisper into your ear.

“I’ll give you a bit of privacy, I presume you won't be here when am back, I want you to reach out more often, it has been fun since you've been back home”

“I will,” you nodded.

“Wonderful, I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as he went outside, flying into the air in an instant.

“What are you two doing here?” you asked them, wiping your mouth.

“What are we doing here? Did you forget that you have companions, or did you not care?” Lestat asked angrily.

“You up and left, you didn't even leave a note,” Louis said.

“Did you not care when you were in Mississippi, did you care when you brought up upbringing as if it was an insult?” the words shut them up, the guilt evident, in their eyes.

“Do you love him more, you went back to your maker because you want him more, we haven't been enough for you,” Lestat spoke.

“I'm sorry for what I said to you, I was angry and I misdirected my anger and I didn't mean to do that, especially to you,” Louis apologized.

“Apologizing is pointless, you love him more than any of us, I just need to hear you say it, perhaps that will give me the closure I need, say Lestat, I never loved you-

Bursting out laughing, you covered your mouth, waving your hand apologetically at the two.

“I'm sorry, but you two are drama queens,” you laughed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn't even take all of my clothes, or my coffin if I was leaving, I would be taking that because it’s custom,” you told them.

“Why didn't you say that in a letter?” Louis asked you.

“Because I thought about leaving for good, but then I considered how much I love you both, yes, I am oftentimes left out, but when I'm not, I feel like I'm on top of the world, and as you said, we have gotten into countless of arguments, why would I just because you brought up Lucius?”

“You're always bringing him up, comparing-

“I’m not comparing the two of you, you have a few things in common, it has only been a handful of times, but you only like the attention on you, you get so jealous at the thought of me talking about another man,” you laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous, and he's not nearly as good-looking as me,” he said.

“See, I never compared your looks, I know who looks better, Lucius doesn't come close”

“You too, Louis, jealous, worried that I wouldn't think that our relationship is enough and I’d go back to Lucius to practice his lifestyle, it's cute really, you both came scrambling out here, to win me back, I am touched and a few other things,” you continued as they approached you.

Immediately, Lestat was kissing your lips, holding you close, scared to let you slip away. Pushing away from him, you pulled Louis near, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Lestat stood behind you, kissing your neck, and tearing the dress.

“Where’s Claudia?” you asked through your moans, as each article of clothing was peeled away. Stopping, the two slowly stared at each other, before looking at you.

“She’s in New Orleans”

“You left her in New Orleans, by herself? We need to leave now, why would you do that?” you yelled, going to pack your things.

“Wait, can we finish what we started?” Louis asked his hand over the painfully stiff sensation between his legs.

“No, we need to get back to her”

“I hate when the brat is right”

[thewickedspinster]

Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

synopsis: Thranduil and Y/N know each other from what seems like a past life; one that both would rather forget. Once secret lovers, hidden from the prying eyes of the Elvenking's court, the two elves' disagreements became too much, their opinions too divided. Y/N departed for Rivendell and sought shelter with her friend, Elrond. But when the Elvenking of Mirkwood comes to parlay with the Lord of Rivendell, he once again meets Y/N, and someone else who looks awfully familiar...

warnings: afab!Reader, pregnancy, elf children, war

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

In Rivendell, the seasons turned as flowers bloomed; with a sudden burst of color against the greys of winter. They came and went quickly for elvenkind, rising and eddying like the tide, and with them came new wonders and sounds, new flavors. Song.

Y/N could hardly remember a time when her life was not dictated by these rhythms, when time was so magnified as to hear her own heartbeat, to watch the sunlight catch upon a dewdrop. Though, it was not so long ago she was in a place where seasons hardly touched, where time stood still and light lingered in honeyed moments. Where her breath raced in her body, and youth stretched into eternity. Where naïveté was all too familiar.

Here, she had more responsibility. Here, she was unequivocally welcome. When she had fled the confines of her life before in Mirkwood, where she had been daughter of a Ñoldor house descended from Fingolfin, and gone westward into the Misty Mountains, she had only hoped her old friend, Elrond, would grant her sanctuary. He welcomed her with open arms. Here, she sat on his council of advisors. Here, life was warm and full of light once more.

For a short time of twenty-odd years, there was peace east of the Misty Mountains. Though her cousin Galadriel could not believe it, it had appeared the dark servant of Morgoth named Sauron had been vanquished. The grey elves lived in peace with the sons of Durin and helped the wayward man, but kept to their forests and their mountains. All had seemed well, and with the protection of the haven of Rivendell, the darkness of old seemed unable to touch her.

Such comforts cannot last. Not so long as Morgoth and his fell creations plagued Arda.

As soon as word reached Rivendell of a darkness fallen upon southern Mirkwood, Elrond sought Y/N's counsel.

"You know the eastern forests well," Elrond said softly, guiding them both down towards the river. Water fell in a gentle curtain of silver ahead, glinting in the moonlight. "What sort of evil could cause these things?"

The pair ducked behind the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water hushed their voices. There hidden was an alcove, large enough for a small group, with cushions surrounding the burnt-out embers of a fire. Elrond had come here often in the early days of ruling Rivendell, and when Y/N had arrived, had brought her here in her most vulnerable moments.

"The Elvenking's Halls are to the north, but in my many wanderings, I went south," she answered, settling on the floor alongside Elrond. "Mirkwood is vast and its creatures untold, but I have never seen anything that would produce this sort of rot."

Elrond hummed, deep in thought. Elven and human messengers alike had been passing along rumors of dark creatures in the southern Mirkwood, things that walked on more than four legs, with slavering maws and the stench of evil surrounding them. Elves who more often ventured south returned with harrowing stories of voices, of song coming from the dark trees. The canopies had grown so thick that sunlight hardly reached the ground. Some had even reported sightings of Orcs.

"You know what this means," Y/N said, interrupting Elrond's reverie. "Galadriel was right. She was always right. We cannot know that Sauron is vanquished. We burned no body. Isildur brought no head. Only the Silmaril."

"There are no credible rumors of Morgoth's creatures, Y/N."

"There are," she insisted. "They have started calling this force 'The Necromancer.' This is no coincidence, Elrond. All evil in these lands comes back to Sauron. To Morgoth. So long as their discord remains, none of the children of Eru are safe."

Beyond his red head, with his noble face, the silvered water fell in sheets, dulling to a gentle sheaving. Waiting. When he raised his gaze, he said, "What would you have me do?"

Galadriel would have them go to war. Though she had grown less brash since the last age, she had grown no less desperate for Sauron's defeat. But Rivendell was a haven, a place of peace for wandering elves. She could not see amassing forces and marching to Mirkwood unaided. Besides, it was not Elrond's territory to march on.

"You know exactly what you must do, my friend," she said at last.

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

It was true enough, though it still gave Y/N pause. Mirkwood had been a home for long centuries, it was true. But before that, she had known the lushness of Beleriand, and the glory of Númenor. She would always be a wanderer. But the Elvenking of Mirkwood brought with him memories too fresh to be painless.

"He is the lord of Mirkwood, and should you wish to do anything at all about this rising evil, you must first confer with him," she said firmly. "Invite him here. Invite his entire court. They will leave Prince Legolas to guard the north, but Thranduil will come."

"I would have you by my side upon his reception."

Y/N caught the glimmer of ancient mischief in Elrond's eyes, and offered him a faint smile in return. "It would be an honor."

~~~

Word came within a fortnight that the Elvenking's party would embark on the Elf-path by the full moon. This gave the people of Rivendell little time to prepare, but showed Elrond and his council how dire circumstances were in Mirkwood.

As Y/N stood at Elrond's side on the dais before the sweeping steps to the city, she knew that in this matter, as all others, that Thranduil would be stubborn, cunning, and seemingly omniscient. It was in his power as king to appear so to his people. But Y/N, he could not fool. She and Elrond would simply need maneuver with tact, to force Thranduil into showing his hand.

In the distance, the royal traveling party rounded a bend and came into view, the Elvenking in his raiment of grey and silver astride his great antlered steed. From here, Y/N could feel his piercing gaze upon them, focusing on her at the Lord of Rivendell's side. Robed in rich, dark green against Elrond's golden raiment, Y/N stood tall. A circlet of gold sat upon her brow, and in it, an opal enshrined. Befitting of her station, she stood to Elrond's left, his wife Celebrían to his right.

Y/N had known true fear in the face of evil, yet facing the Elvenking of Mirkwood after these twenty years turned her chest cold. She could never fear him - she knew him too well, but that was just the problem. They shared a deep past of friendship, of love, forbidden though it may have been. And pain, at the last. Since their parting, she had, for the first time, lived many secrets that she kept from him still.

The party finally arrived at the dais, the great reindeer's feet clapping against the stone as thunder. The Elvenking dismounted, stepped before Elrond, and inclined his head.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell, you honor me with your great hospitality," he said formally, the Sindarin tongue rolling like quicksilver from his mouth. "And Lady Celebrían, thank you for welcoming my host into your household."

Elrond, Y/N, and the council assembled bowed to the king.

"We are pleased you answered our invitation," Elrond replied, his tone, as ever, one of deliberate lightness, as if he knew something no one else did. "How long shall you stay?"

"A week," Thranduil said shortly. Finally, finally, his silvered eyes shifted to Y/N. She breathed in deeply. "There are matters to attend to in Mirkwood."

"I do hope Prince Legolas is well," she said softly, smoothly.

Thranduil looked momentarily surprised she'd spoken, his eyebrows drawing together at the sound of her voice. "He is taking to his responsibilities well."

A moment of silence passed. The river roared below. Then, Celebrían was taking gesturing towards the king, leading him away into the great wood house of Rivendell.

Formal greetings complete, the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, and elves moved swiftly in preparation for the feast prepared in the king's honor. Soon, only Elrond and Y/N remained. She watched the sun setting over the vale, eyes fixed on the rushing waters surrounding.

"Will you tell him?" Elrond asked, voice so quiet only she could hear.

"How could I?" Y/N whispered. She felt her fingers tremble.

"It is unfair to -"

"You shall not tell me what is fair or unfair, Elrond," Y/N whirled, suddenly furious. "You know not what it is to have my fears."

Elrond held up his hands. "I only wish to say that truths are better spoken. Deception is the chaos-sower."

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

"A curse," she hissed. "A bounty upon his head."

"Or a crown."

She stared at her friend, stunned. "You do not mean that."

Elrond only watched her in return.

With no words left between them, Y/N turned and disappeared into the house, bracing herself for the week to come.

~~~

It was the fourth day of the accursed sessions of counsel, and Thranduil had still not admitted there being any disturbance in Mirkwood. He spoke on matters of trade, of agriculture, of relations with Khazad-Dûn, but nothing of the murmurs from the Sutherlands.

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

Elrond, blessedly, had more of it to spare. Ever the diplomat, he listened to Thranduil's concerns and complaints of their relations, and constructed plans to fix them. Ever the master of compromise, he kept Rivendell's secrecy and best interests at heard. Ever the more patient of the two, he kept prodding the Elvenking towards revealing his secrets, to no avail.

Y/N sat, posture relaxed, around the dais at the center of Elrond's pubic chambers. The elves around her deliberated, debated, while she kept her mouth closed. As Elrond's chief advisor, her primary duty was to listen. She interjected when Elrond looked to her, and when someone said something entirely ludicrous. Elves tended to take a laboriously long time to come to any sort of agreement in politics, and were reasonable to the point of boredom. Y/N's engagement had thus far been minimal, though she heard all.

They had turned to the topic of weapons, and of Rivendell's protection. They were inching closer to the topic at hand, but she knew Thranduil had a deep well of patience, particularly when it came to dealing with elves. The high noon sun blazed down on the white marble.

"How have you fared in the training of your ranks?" Thranduil inquired, sipping at a goblet of honeywine.

"The archers excel, under the tutelage of Sindarin masters," Elrond said. "The swordsmen, under that of the Ñoldor. Khazad-Dûn has agreed to provide us with weapon designs, and with materials to forge them. Durin is all too happy to help an old friend."

Thranduil scoffed lightly into his cup. "Old friend, indeed."

Y/N sat up straighter at the tone, the scoff. She had heard it many times. "Prince Durin has provided us with an excellent relationship over the years. He is a close friend to Rivendell."

Thranduil looked at her, through her, in her. Before her mind's eye flashed his face, poised over her, abed. Soft candlelight shone from beyond his features, and his face was softened into the loveliest of smiles. Gone in an instant.

Just then, lithe footsteps from just inside, and bursting from behind the curtains came three elven children, small and laughing. A maid reached out, trying to snatch them by their tunics, but too late. They sprinted into the circle, and straight up to Elrond.

"Father, we would like to go the Gates," one boy panted. Elrohir.

"Apologies, Father," the other interjected, suddenly serious. Elladan, his twin. "I told him not to come."

"Our swordmaster is at the Gates, and asked us to join him," the third explained. Y/N sat forward, staring down at the boys.

"Tathrenion," she said severely, hiding the quake to her voice, "you know not to enter this chamber when Lord Elrond is taking counsel."

The third boy, unlike the other two, with (Y/HC) hair and striking grey eyes, paled, bowing to Y/N. Even when he straightened, he kept his eyes averted. "Forgive me, Mother. Elladan and Elrohir wished to go, and I wished to accompany them."

It was only then, as the boys turned to glance around at the present company, that Elrond spoke.

"You are in the presence of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood."

Shuffling, with a soft gasp from Elrohir, the three boys bowed low to the king. Thranduil said nothing for a moment. Instead of on the children, his eyes were pinned on Y/N, wide with unbridled shock. When he finally did look at the boys, at the one called Tathrenion, he found his own eyes staring back, steady and calm.

Thranduil stood abruptly, setting down his goblet. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "We shall eat. Elrond, you shall decide what to do with your sons."

He swept off the dais, out of view, and Y/N was left staring at the spot he once occupied.

"Go after him," Elrond murmured to her, leaning close.

"Tathrenion-"

"Leave the child to me." And an unspoken promise to keep her son safe.

Y/N was up in an instant, following in Thranduil's wake as quickly as possible. But he was moving fast, and kept dodging out of sight, around corners that he did not know. Servants moved out of the way as Y/N passed through an adjoining kitchen at a sprint, intercepting Thranduil as he rounded the corner into the next room.

She caught him by his elbow as he tried to pull from her grasp, but she held firm.

"Thranduil," she said. "Stop. Just... Stop. And listen."

His rage made his jaw tight, his brows drawn low. "I will not stand here and listen to you when you have -"

"I had to leave," she interrupted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "I could not be your concubine, Thranduil. I would not."

He scoffed, that same sound he made when he thought someone foolish. Beneath him. It hadn't started this way, but as they fell deeper into each other, he'd started scoffing at her the same way. It was part of what drove Y/N away from Mirkwood. "You were not a concubine, Y/N."

"Then tell me what I was to you."

Thranduil bent lower, so their faces were inches apart. "You know exactly what you were to me."

"I know that I was not your wife." And that was venom in her tone, sour and deadly.

A shadow passed over his features. "You were everything she was not."

"And that makes me whore to a king."

"You have never been a whore!" He shouted.

The surrounding house went quiet. Y/N trembled, fingertips numb.

"Tathrenion is your son," she said lowly, practically hissing into his mouth. "Your son, Thranduil. Our place in Rivendell is of your doing. You never recognized what it was to be in my place, with no guarantee of my safety in your court."

"I always would have protected the both of you."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Our love felt increasingly fragile. I doubted that it even existed any longer. Had we been found out, I doubted you would protect me from exile."

Thranduil was quiet. The house had moved on from his sharp outburst, exhaling as his anger passed. Y/N's grip loosened on his tunic, her truth spoken. But her touch lingered.

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

"Not when I left your halls. Not until I reached the Misty Mountains."

"And all... went well? With the birth?"

Elven births were rare, and dangerous for mother and child. "Blessedly, Elrond's midwives and healers some of the most gifted, and I healed swiftly. He was born squalling."

He loosed a soft breath, and some of the tension left his features. He had always been beautiful, but it was when he was away from prying eyes that he truly became ethereal. Radiant. Himself.

"You should always have been in Mirkwood, with me." She just looked up at him. "I am sorry, my Y/N. I never meant to make you afraid."

"It is safer for both of us away from you and Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "My son has proven impertinent. And lacking the character to succeed me."

"He will mature," she said softly. "He is young still."

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

"Is a threat. Whatever darkness lurks in the south of my lands, it is dangerous and spreading."

"Tell Elrond," she urged. "He wishes to aid any fight against Morgoth's darkness in these lands."

"My forces are strong."

"They will be stronger with Rivendell's. Don't let your pride cloud your judgement."

At that, a small smile graced his mouth. "That has always been your advice for me."

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

The question surprised her. "You would have us? So soon after the death of your wife?"

"I would have your company," he said. "And I would have my son raised by the both of us."

Y/N did not have an answer, and she was about to say as much when a smaller voice said, "I would like to go to Mirkwood."

Y/N whipped around, and found young Tathrenion standing behind them. She took a large step away from Thranduil, then lowered herself to her son's level, steeling herself.

"What did Lord Elrond tell you and the twins?" She asked.

"He said we may go to the Gates, but I decided to stay behind." Tathrenion peered past Y/N, to the Elvenking. "I wished to speak with you."

Thranduil could hardly stomach looking at his son's face, the very reflection of his own, untouched by age yet full of a strange wisdom. "Speak, child."

"I know little of why my mother left your kingdom, but I know she has done everything since for my sake. Please, do not ply her with false hopes. If you invite us to Mirkwood, you pledge to keep her safe."

"And you," Thranduil answered immediately. "I will protect you both, and welcome you into my household in places of honor."

Y/N was speechless, her throat swollen around pride for her young son.

"I know you not, Your Majesty, but I would like to," said Tathrenion simply.

Thranduil smiled.

Y/N sent him on his way, leaving her alone once again with the Elvenking. This time, he reached out to her, and against logic, she stepped into him, leaning into his fingers upon her cheek. She had longed for his touch, his kiss, his steadfastness ever since she left the forest. Leaving Mirkwood had been one of the hardest decisions of her long life.

"Let us think about this," she whispered. "And let these diplomatic matters be done first. Speak to Elrond in earnest."

"I will wait for your return to my side, Y/N," he murmured. "I have been waiting since the moment you left."

~~~

Dappled sunlight shone down upon the glade, lighting the page Y/N read. It was a letter, signed in Elrond's familiar hand, detailing the phalanxes marching towards Mirkwood. They would join Thranduil's army in patrolling for evil in the south, just as they had hoped.

Amongst the trees, a young boy laughed, and an older one hollered. Legolas was nearly fully mature, but had taken to playing with his younger half-brother in earnest. Together, they romped through the forest, and Tathrenion adored having someone elder to look up to and learn from. He excelled in archery, now, thanks to Legolas's tutelage.

A hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her backwards, and she fell upon Thranduil's chest. He was stretched upon the grass, feline at ease. She luxuriated in the feel of his body against hers, in his fingers in her unbound hair. In his mouth, pressed to her shoulder.

She had refused to take him to bed since her return, but she had begun to let him back into her heart. He had honored his word, and the loss of his wife had left him in need of comfort, in need of counsel and a tender hand.

Besides that, over honeywine in the candlelight one night in Rivendell, he had finally told her he loved her. Words were the playthings of elves, and though they meant little to some, they meant everything to Y/N. She opened up visions of the future that had ere been clouded.

"Of what do you think, my love?" Thranduil breathed against her skin.

She came back to the dampness of the grass beneath them, the golden green of the canopy above, the laughter of her son in the distance. The warmth of her king at her back.

She smiled. "Eternity."

[dumpywrites]

Tears and Poetries - Kim Namjoon / RM

Prompt: “You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, comfort, idol Namjoon, non fan reader 

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

a/n: Come back to me got me feeling all inspired soooo yeah :)

It was late. Frankly you did not bother to check the time but you knew it was at least way past twelve. You just needed some air. Late night polluted air might not be the right option, but it was the best you could have at the moment. Getting out was the only coping response your mind could think off. Getting out from where exactly you could not be sure. 

Work life had been a real shit-show. You were on your fifth revision for your company project and your manager still would not accept your draft. While life? Life had been pretty exhausting. Recently your mother had been pestering you about wanting you to achieve more, comparing you to her friends’ sons and daughters, while also underestimating your own accomplishment. 

And not even two weeks ago, a guy who you were seeing just admitted that he apparently had a girlfriend. He really just dropped that info to you like a bomb, as if you did not spend time with each other the past six months. True, you never really put a label on whatever you both had, but in your head you were single and so was he. Until he told you that he got a girlfriend and had dated her for a month already. 

The wound still felt fresh especially with all the external problems added to the equation. Bearing the feeling of unwanted, unimportant, and never enough at once, was hard. Even labeling it as only hard sounded like an understatement. 

So you ran. Theoretically speaking you did not run away, you just took off from your apartment randomly to wherever your feet and your worn off sneakers took you. And they took you to a random spot near a river. 

You sat down on the dirty grassy ground, not minding how your shorts could get dirty from it.  Just sitting down and looking at the night sky, as if the cold breeze would calm you and do anything besides giving you a possibility of catching cold. 

Five, fifteen, maybe it was around half an hour you had been sitting there with empty thoughts, just letting the cold air hit your skin, when you suddenly heard a sound of a bicycle stopping and footsteps approaching. 

“Hello? Are you alright there?”

The deep voice started you and made you look back in an instant. There was a tall and quite big built guy standing with his bicycle. He had a buzzcut from the very faint image you could see due to the low light. 

Although skeptic, you decided to answer. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

You realized how shaky and stuffy your voice sounded. It probably was not a very convincing “don’t worry”. And when you did not voice another reply, the person parked their vehicle and slowly walked towards your direction. 

“Hey! Stranger danger!” You said, backing off from where you were seating. 

The guy stopped in his tracks but did not walked away. “Do you mind if I join your pondering session? Who knows two great minds might think alike.” 

You stayed still in your position, eyes searching for his in the very confusing lack of light. You could barely make out of what he looked like. 

“I’m not a creep, I swear!” He threw his hands in the air. “There’s a police station nearby if you wanna shout as loud as you can, they could hear you from here.” 

He took your silence as a green light and stepped closer until he reached a spot on your left. He cleared his throat and sat down next to you. 

There you could eventually fully saw his face. The first thing you noticed was the nicely shaped nose, and his plump lips, then his dimples which showed when he politely smiled at you. 

The first ten minutes was spent in complete silence. You did not expect the man to whip out a notepad and pencil and just started writing. A story? Poem? Or song? You tried your best not to sneak a look. He was even humming at some point when he wrote, and it was strangely enough, soothing. 

“What are you writing?” You finally asked, the suspense was killing you. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” He replied with excitement. “I’m writing a poem. Though I’m starting to think it’d sound better as a song.”

“You’re a singer or something?”

The man looked at you in disbelief for a good second before chuckling. “Sorta.”

“Am I suppose to know you?” You eyed him back with the same questioning look. 

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t know for today.”

You looked at the guy suspiciously, which earned a laugh from him. “The more I think about it, I think I’ve seen your face somewhere…”

“Oh yeah?” He said, a light tone of nervousness was visible in his voice. 

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

He almost choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“Yeah, that one dude from BTS.” You repeated. “Although I don’t think any one from them has a buzzcut… Idols always seem to have either colorful hair or beautiful long locks.” 

“Really…” The man voiced out, sounding unsure. 

“Are you perhaps an indie artist? K-hiphop? Don’t tell me you are a DPR member that I somehow don’t know about or something…”

“Okay, enough about that it’s not important.” He dismissed. “You wanna take a look of what I’ve written?”

“Uh, sure…”

You leaned a bit closer to him and peeked over his notes. He took his notepad nearing it to your side so you could read better. Despite the low source of illumination, you could read the delicately written words. It was deep and meaningful. Whatever he wrote on that paper seemed a little too real to just be a song, it almost felt like it came from true experience. 

“You sound like you went through hell to get to where you are right now.” 

You commented, you were not aware of how reading through his words affected you until you could practically hear your heartbeat. You clutched at your chest, trying to calm it down. 

“I’m not only talking about the sufferings.” He pointed out. “I also mentioned about the journeys in between.”

His expression brightened as he explained further. You found it really attractive for some reason. 

“The feeling of loss, left out, were there alongside the feeling of excitement, growth, and wanting to change for the better.” He grinned. “And I think life needs that small bits of flavor to complete us as human beings… Wouldn’t have loved myself so much without all my struggles and flaws.”

You gazed at the guy in front of you in awe. “Guess you’re right.” You finally broke into a smile. “That was beautiful though, almost got me tearing up.”

“Thank you.” He grinned, showing his dimples. “What about you though? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s kinda lame…” You nervously laughed. 

“I’m listening.” He scooted closer, making your knees touched. 

“There are a whole list of messed up things happening in my life right now, but I guess I could name one or two…” 

You took a deep breath and the guy in front of you patiently waited for you to speak. 

“Basically my mom’s been yelling at me saying stuff about how unsuccessful I am for my nine to five job, while getting bullied by my manager at work, and not to mention, how I just got dumped by a guy who I was seeing for six months.”

“That’s fucked up…” He looked at you with wide eyes. 

“You tell me.” You replied sassily. “I mean I guess for the most part it wasn’t really about the problem itself. I’m aware of how perfectionist my manager could be and multiple revision is expected. My mom never really feels content with anything, so that’s also expected. And that fucking guy leaving me? It was probably for the better…”

“Hey.” He grabbed your shoulder suddenly, catching you in a surprise. “Don’t downplay your feelings like that. You’re allowed to feel sad when other people treat you like utter shit. It’s valid.” 

There was something about his words that triggered an emotion within you. Unknowingly, a tear escaped your eyes, followed by more next. 

You leaned backwards to free from his grip, only for him to lose it but proceeded to take off his knitted sweater, revealing a black oversized t-shirt underneath. He took it off with one hand before shoving it through your head so you could wear it. 

“It’s chilly. You might catch a cold.” 

Hesitantly, you rolled the sweater through your body. You felt the neckline stained with tears and wondered if it was his polite way of helping you wipe your tears. You thanked him and he told you to continue. 

“I don’t know what else to say, I don’t want to trauma dump on you.” 

“How are you feeling though?” He asked, eyes gently looking at you. 

“I just… I felt unwanted? Unimportant and undesirable? It happened all at once and it got me connecting strings. The root cause of my problem felt like it came from me as a person and I felt sick…”

He gazed at you and quietly nod, allowing you to continue. 

“I came here because it was loud and deafening in here,” You tapped your head with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m glad I did. Not only did I manage to tone it down a couple notches, I also get an exclusive song preview from a top star!” 

Both of you laughed in unison. You were the first to break the eye contact due to the sudden invasion of butterflies in your stomach. It might be dark and late at night, but your eyes could not lie about the beauty of the stranger in front of you. 

The silence was soon broken by a buzzing notification from his phone. It was on silent mode, but the multiple vibrations got him shuffling his hand on his pocket, fishing his phone out from his cargo pants. 

“Damn, I gotta head back. Someone needs me in the studio…” 

“At this hour?!” You argued immediately.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He ran his hand through his short hair in a frustrated way. 

“What’s your name?” 

You both stopped and looked at each other, dumbfounded. Both of you asked the same question at the same time. Laughter filled the air once again. 

“You first.” The guy gestured. 

You got up and he followed right after. Now looking at how tall he was compared to you, spelling out your name felt a little bit harder. Your heart was beating in an abnormal rate. You finally managed to tell him your name and you patted yourself internally for not voicing out like a squealing hormonal teenager. 

“I’m Namjoon.” He said with a huge contagious smile. 

“Now where did I hear that name—“

“Can I have your number?” He interrupted. Glancing at his phone screen, a small groan escaped his lips. “It’s almost three, you have to go home.”

“Oh.” Your lips formed a small O shape. “Sure. Here, give me your phone…”

You both then exchanged phone numbers. 

“I want to take you back to your home so badly but I really can’t…” Namjoon sighed. “Besides, my bicycle can only do so much…” He chuckled. 

“It’s okay, I live nearby.” You smiled. “You take care, though.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “Thank you, Namjoon.” 

“Don’t mention it, I’m really glad we met today.” He nodded at you before retreating to where he parked his bicycle. 

“Wait!” 

You followed, running to his direction. You stopped when your arms barely linked behind him, hugging him tightly. It was bold of you but it just felt right at the moment. 

“Thank you so much, I mean it.” You said with voice muffled a little by his clothes against your mouth. 

And you did. You meant it, it felt really nice having someone who actually listened to your problem and seemed like he cared about it too. 

He hugged back. “You’re not unwanted, okay? You are loved, please know that.”

You nodded and broke off the hug. A big smile plastered on your lips and he mimicked it. “Okay, you may go now.”

You both bid your goodbyes and that was how you found yourself smiling and giggling at three in the morning, by yourself, on your way back to your place, all while hugging the sweater that you forgot to give back. That encounter was weird, but in a very good way. It almost felt like the universe sent you an angel knowing how down you were feeling. In a peculiar way, it almost felt like he saved you. You went to sleep easily that night. 

The next morning you were awaken by a text notification popping up from Namjoon. You smiled like an idiot to yourself before opening it. 

“Good morning! I hope you slept well. Did you arrive safe yesterday? Sorry something came up, I wished I could stay longer.”

You quickly replied to him. “I slept good. Probably thanks to you, hehe. No problem though! Maybe we could hangout again someday? I need to return your sweater after all :)”

After typing the text and sending it, suddenly a curious thought filled your head. His name did ring an unknown bell. Namjoon did mention that he was a singer, an idol maybe? You could not be sure. You tapped your Google app on your phone and started typing his name followed by the word “singer” behind it. 

Maybe this was your cue to be more aware of the Kpop industry. You had your fair share of listening to K-hiphop, and were even an avid listener of groups like Epik High and Balming Tiger. 

So how come you failed to notice that last night you in fact just hugged Kim Namjoon, aka RM from the internationally well known boy group, BTS???

Thank you for reading! 🌙

a/n: this was a rather short one but i hope y'all like it nonetheless <3

Prompt request: HERE

[fandomnerd9602]

Six Months

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Your doe, your mate, had been secretive lately. Wanda was spending time alone, away from you. If you tried to enter her room, she would lock the door. If you wanted to spend an evening with her, she would run away.

“Not yet!” She would say. Her voice carried a little bit of giddiness but still you found it odd.

You and her were approaching your six month anniversary. Six glorious months of being mates. True most of it was still spent cuddling and watching movies together, neither of you were ready for anything else. But still it was glorious.

You woke up on the actual date with a smile on your face. Your plan was ready. You bolted into the kitchen in the early morning hours.

Wanda walked out of her room to the fresh smell of chocolate chip pancakes.

"Are those for me, detka?" she asks inquisitively. You hand her a stack of pancakes and give her a kiss to the cheek.

"Happy six month anniversary, my doe" you smile at her.

"Detka" she giggles.

"One more thing!" you rush into your room and pull out a small deer plushie, bringing it back to your doe like a kid on Christmas.

Wanda gasps, it was beautiful in her eyes. The fur was the same color as her hair. The antlers were shaped just like hers and the eyes were an exact match of hers. "It's like me in plushie!" she exclaims, "I love it!"

She hugs you tight and kisses your jaw. You loved her jaw kisses.

"I have a surprise for you too," she explains, "but only tonight, ok?"

"oh alright" you say playfully before you each strolled off to your rooms to go and get ready for the day.

Within the hour, Wanda was happily skipping the halls of the sanctuary. Her best wolf pal Natasha came up to her, "so did you do it yet?"

"No not yet." Wanda answers, "I'm waiting for the evening. Thanks again for helping me"

"What are pals for?" Natasha gives a little wink, "just let me know how it goes"

Wanda walked into your office with a mischievous little stride. "You're not getting a peep out of me" she states with her arms crossed.

"I'm sure whatever it is, I'm gonna love it" you give her forehead a little kiss. You pull out two PB&J sandwiches and hand one to her. The two of you playfully clink your sandwiches together and take a bite.

The day ended and so came the evening. You and Wanda ordered takeout and watched a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show, Wanda's favorite show.

"I'm ready" she states as her favorite episode ends.

"Oh?"

"Just stay here" she says with a little smile before walking into her room. Wanda walks out holding her guitar, looking at you sheepishly. “This was my surprise for you” she steadies her guitar and begins strumming it.

I'll be your candle on the water,

My love for you will always burn.

I know you're lost and drifting

But the clouds are lifting.

Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn.

You couldn’t help but begin to tear up a little. She looked so serene as she strummed her guitar and sung.

I'll be your candle on the water,

'Till every wave is warm and bright.

My soul is there beside you,

Let this candle guide you.

Soon you'll see a golden stream of light.

The soft flicker of the Edison bulbs in your apartment illuminating her face, it just looked so serene.

Look for me, reaching out to show,

As sure as rivers flow,

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go...

She brought the song to a close. You got up and walked over to her. You knelt before your doe, cupping her face in your hands.

You touched your forehead to hers. “I’ll never let you go, my amazing doe”

“Happy anniversary, my love” she giggles.

Year or two later, you found your doe gently singing that same song to your sleeping infant daughter. You just stood in the doorway listening with the same awe as you did the first time.

Your doe, Wanda Maximoff, the love of your life and keeper of your heart.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @revanshand @russianredassassin @aloneodi @julieromanoff @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[marsi-is-depressed]

Anger strikes again

Chapter 2. Continuing with the most basic skill story the doctor gets annoyed with the tardis and takes his anger out on the reader telling her to shut up when she was talking to him.

The Doctor stormed through the console room. Something wasn’t working—the stabilizers, the temporal drift compensator, or maybe it was just the old girl being temperamental. Either way, his frustration boiled over, each failed attempt to fix the issue making his irritation worse. You had been sitting nearby, nervously watching as he muttered under his breath, his movements sharp and impatient. Wanting to help, you hesitantly began speaking, stumbling over your words as you tried to offer an idea.

“M-m-maybe the p-p-power flow needs—”

“Y/N, just stop!” the Doctor snapped, his voice loud and cutting. He didn’t even look at you, his focus still on the console. “Just—shut up for a moment, alright? I can’t think with you stammering on like that!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, the room suddenly feeling too bright, too loud. Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, silently retreating from the console room as his words echoed in your mind.

In your room, you paced back and forth, your thoughts spiraling out of control. Why can’t I just talk like everyone else? Why am I such a burden? His words had cut deep, amplifying every insecurity you already felt. If only I were normal. If only I could talk properly, maybe he wouldn’t get so annoyed with me. Maybe he wouldn’t hate me. The frustration built rapidly, bubbling into anger—anger at yourself. You clenched your fists, tears streaming down your face. Before you could stop yourself, you swung your fist at the wall, the pain exploding through your wrist as you made contact. You stumbled back, clutching your wrist, but the physical pain didn’t stop the torrent of self-loathing. You sank to the floor, cradling your injured hand, your sobs wracking your body.

River returned to the TARDIS not long after, immediately sensing the tension in the air. The Doctor was still in the console room, pacing like a caged animal. “What’s wrong with her now?” she asked, her sharp tone making the Doctor pause.

“What’s wrong with her?” he repeated, his voice dripping with frustration. “She’s brilliant, but she doesn’t give me a moment’s peace sometimes! She just—she doesn’t stop, River. And I—” River’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you do, Doctor?”

“I might’ve… snapped at her,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, guilt creeping in. “I told her to shut up.”

River’s fury ignited. “You what?!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the TARDIS hum like a blade. “How could you say that to her? You know how she feels about herself already!”

The Doctor winced, realizing how deeply he’d messed up. “I didn’t mean it. I just—”

“No,” River interrupted, stepping closer, her voice like steel. “You don’t just snap at your child like that. Do you have any idea what that could’ve done to her?”

Before the Doctor could respond, the TARDIS pulsed urgently, her lights flickering toward your room. River’s heart sank, and without another word, she turned and sprinted down the corridor.

River burst into your room, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the scene: you on the floor, clutching your wrist, tears streaming down your face. Her heart broke at the sight of you, but her fury only grew.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, kneeling beside you. “What did you do to yourself?”

You shook your head, trying to pull away, but she gently caught your uninjured hand. “Let me see,” she said softly, her voice steady but insistent. When you hesitated, her voice softened even more. “Please, Y/N. Let me help you.” Reluctantly, you held out your injured wrist, and she winced at the swelling. “It’s broken,” she said, her tone calm but tinged with worry. “We’ll get it sorted, but first—why, love? Why did you do this to yourself?”

“I-it’s my fault,” you choked out, your words stammered but laced with raw emotion. “I’m t-t-too much. I c-can’t t-t-talk right. H-he hates m-me.”

River’s expression softened, her anger now entirely focused on the Doctor. “Oh, darling,” she whispered, pulling you into her arms. “None of this is your fault. And he doesn’t hate you—he loves you more than anything. He just doesn’t know how to show it sometimes, the idiot.” You sobbed into her shoulder, your injured wrist resting awkwardly between you. She held you tightly, murmuring reassurances. “You are not too much,” she said firmly. “You are everything to us. And I’ll make sure he understands that.”

River tended to your wrist as best she could before storming back to the console room. The Doctor was waiting, guilt written all over his face.

“River, I—”

“No,” she snapped, cutting him off. “You listen. You may be a genius, but when it comes to parenting, you are a complete fool sometimes. Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve done?”

The Doctor looked away, his voice small. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Well, you did,” River said sharply. “And now you need to fix it.”

She pointed toward your room. “Go. Talk to her. Apologize. And this time, actually think before you speak, or so help me, Doctor, I’ll leave you stranded on a moon somewhere.”

The Doctor nodded, swallowing his pride and his fear as he made his way to your room. He found you sitting on the edge of your bed, your wrist carefully wrapped by River’s handiwork. Your eyes were red and swollen, your face streaked with dried tears.

“Y/N,” he said softly, stepping inside. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean it. And I never, ever want you to think that I don’t love you, because I do. More than anything.”

You looked away, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s m-my fault.”

“No,” the Doctor said firmly, sitting beside you. “No, it’s not. This is my fault, Y/N. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. And that’s not okay. None of this is your fault, sweetheart. Not your stammer, not your feelings, nothing.”

He hesitated before reaching for your good hand. “You are brilliant, just as you are. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like you’re not.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they carried a flicker of relief. “O-okay,” you whispered.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around you gently, careful of your wrist. “We’ll get through this, Y/N. I promise.”

From the doorway, River watched, her expression softening as she saw the two of you together. The road ahead would be difficult, but as long as they had each other, she knew you’d make it through

[satxnsupreme666]

Masterlist in progress…

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Even after all these years

Summary: You´re a witch, your mother was killed by witch-hunters and you end up in New Salem where you meet Agatha, you fall in love with her but what happens when the coven accuses her of practicing dark magic?

I would never hurt you

Summary: You live in Westview and you’re trapped under Wanda’s mind control, Agatha gets closer to you and you fall in love with her, everything was great until you notice some glitches around town, you end up listening to Agnes and Wanda’s discussion at Agnes’ basement about how everything in Westview is fake, heartbroken you try to leave Westview.

Champagne problems

Summary: You loved her too early, she loved you too late, will she be able to change things and make amends for what she did?

Talk to me

Summary: You and Agatha are married and both of you are living in Westview, you start to feel exhausted by the effects of living in Wanda’s illusion and your attitude starts to change.

Between ice cream and love

Summary: You’re the new neighbor in town, and Agnes becomes jealous of you and Wanda’s friendship

Theatrical love

Summary: You’re a witch and just like Agatha you feel the power coming from Westview, you meet her there and she asks you to help her, so you pretend to be a married couple in front of Wanda and the others, you start to fall in love without noticing but what happens when Wanda and her child ask you why you never act like a married couple.

Devil town

Summary: You are the “daughter” of Wanda and Vision and you’re living with them in Westview, problems start to overwhelm you but Agnes is there for you all the time and you fall in love with her.

You don´t need to be alone anymore

Summary: You´re a lonely witch who was never accepted in any coven because everyone was afraid of your dark powers, you got used to live alone for many centuries, but when you meet Agatha in Westview you fall in love with her, you´re scared of getting attached to her so you try to ignore her, but Agatha never gives up.

I almost lost you

Summary: Agatha´s in love with you and you´re in love with her as well but she doesn’t know that, instead she thinks you have something with Wanda so Agatha stops talking to you, until you get severely injured.

Spell gone wrong

Summary: Agatha gets a magical cold because of a wrong spell and this causes her to sneeze a lot and unconsciously her magic changes some things, you decide to take care of her until Wanda comes to ask for help.

Down by the river side

Summary: Back in the 1600´s you live with your parents in the forest, near Agatha’s coven. You always go to the river down your house to feel a little bit of peace from all the yelling and the abuse of your parents, you think you´re alone until one day you see Agatha on the other side of the river looking at you and since that day, she keeps coming to look for you.

You fall for her and she falls for you, she worries when one day you don’t arrive at your special place, so she goes to look for you, ready to save you from your parents.

Would you run away with her?

Let me help you

Summary: You´re feeling under the weather but you try to hide it, Agatha/Agnes notices this and she takes care of you.

Stronger than you think

Summary: Everyone is now free from Wanda´s mind control as well as you and now that you´re not Agnes´ secret lover, Agatha asks you out on a real date because she´s smitten by you, but in the middle of the date your ex shows up to bother you and Agatha shows her protective side.

Golden

Summary: You´re Agatha´s girlfriend and you come to Westview with her, but something goes wrong and you end up trapped in the sitcom, all you know now is that you´re Agnes´ friend and you have a crush on her, can a song help you remember your real life?

Immortal

Summary: Agatha is immortal and she fell in love with you when she was still in the coven, she lost you in the past but even when you reincarnated in different periods of time and in different countries, she always found you again and again because she promised herself she would always find you, and this time is not going to be different, she kept falling in love with your soul every time.

You don´t know her

Summary: You’re an avenger and you’re dating Agatha Harkness, but none of the avengers know that, Wanda and Natasha are the ones who are more worried since you´re like their daughter, so all of them make a reunion to know who’s your secret date and they decide to spy on you, what will happen when they discover that you’re dating a “villain”?

Tainted love

Summary: You´re living an unhappy marriage with Wanda and your neighbor Agnes decides to help you to get away from the person who makes you suffer.

I won´t say I´m in love

Summary: You arrived at Westview with your best friend Wanda to try to start a new life, but the thing is that you didn’t know a certain witch that you had met centuries ago was already living in the town, you don´t want to accept you still have feelings for her, Agatha keeps trying to talk to you, and Wanda seeing the situation decides to make a plan to get the two of you to talk to each other.

Kind of woman

Summary:  Agatha feels guilty about what happened to Alice, so you go to look for her, only to realize she is drowning on mud, you help her to get out of the mud and to clean herself, would she be able to understand that you do not blame her for anything?

Rio Vidal x Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Torn apart, bound together

Summary: You met Agatha when she arrived at Westview looking for the source of power, she got closed to you at first with the idea of only getting to Wanda as you seemed to be close to the scarlet witch, what Agatha had not waited for, was that the more she passed time with you, the more her feelings became real, she had fallen for you, even harder than you had done for her, but when Wanda´s hex was destroyed, Agatha absorbed your powers, awful things were said, you were left alone with no one left and with you heart completely broken.

3 years later, when Agatha is released from Wanda´s spell, you were released at the same time, not knowing what had happened during those years and thinking that only some days have passed, or weeks, you find yourself alone one more time, with the images and memories of what had happened, fresh as if it had only happened some days ago, Agatha finds you and wants to fix things, however, now powerless and with the Salem seven behind her, she feels conflicted whether to fix everything or risk everything and lose you again.

Rio had met you many years ago, even before you and Agatha met, you were not aware at the time,  you were almost unconscious, but when she had seen your eyes, she became captivated by you, she broke the rules for you, and even if you would never knew who she was, she was happy she had not taken you with her, she watched you from afar, always watching over you, but never daring to break the rules again and go near you, now having you in front of her, she wants to protect you and Agatha, so she helps you to understand why Agatha is the way she is, as well as helping Agatha to understand your pain.

Will the three of you get to understand each other´s feelings in order to heal from the past? Will the three of you be ready to face your feelings and understand what love is really about?

Love in the darkest hour

Summary: During Agatha´s trial, you are the one that gets possessed, Rio and Agatha get protective of you but you end up getting hurt, your girlfriends feel guilty and all of the wicthes get worried about you.

I love you, it’s ruining my life

Summary: Agatha cares for you deeply, she loves you, but her fears stop her from revealing the real feelings she has for you, the only way she knows how to cope with her own feelings is by using sarcasm and from time to time say something mean.

Rio developed feelings for you while watching over Agatha and you during the three years you had stayed with her to take care of the the blue-eyed witch who was under Wanda’s spell, Rio doesn’t like the way Agatha treats you just because she doesn’t know how to deal with her feelings.

Can Rio and the coven help Agatha realize that her actions and comments are not only hurting her but she’s also hurting you in the process? Can Rio help Agatha realize that love doesn’t have to make anyone suffer?

Risk this heart of mine

Summary:  You are Agatha´s girlfriend, and you have been with her for over 10 years, you are also the one who freed Agatha from Wanda´s spell after almost three years, Agatha decided to stay in Westview to work on regaining her magic, but what happens when a teenager breaks into your house looking for Agatha, asking her to take him to the witches´ road, Agatha fearing for your safety and caring about you, is not sure if she wants to go and take you as well to the witches´ road, but as always you managed to convince her to do what you wanted.

You have been feeling sick for the past few weeks, making Agatha feel worried sick about you for not knowing what is going on with you, what you didn´t know, was that you were pregnant with Agatha´s child, and none of you knew about this, until Rio arrives and is the first one to notice this about you.

Rio who has been visiting you for the past years only leaving flowers to you never staying to talk visits Agatha again, and instead of talking thing out, they fight as always, but this time Rio decided to come fight with Agatha because she thought the blue-eyed witch had let you go, after knowing you were still with her and realizing you were pregnant, Rio, who cannot tell you nor Agatha the reason as to why you have been feeling sick over the past weeks, decides to go with you to the witches´ road, to try and keep you safe from whatever the road would make them face.

What happens when the truth is revealed to Agatha? How is Agatha going to react knowing that her girlfriend is pregnant and on the witches´ road?

Rio Vidal x fem!reader

Angel of life, lover of Death

Summary: For many witches and many people you were an angel, a life saver, a light in the middle of darkness, even a goddess you had been called, helping and saving so many witches and humans, always stopping them from facing death, you were known as the “Angel of life” everyone knew that if someone was fighting for their life, you would be the only one capable of helping them not to cross that line between life and death, bur for someone specifically, you had only been an obstacle, always interfering, stopping her from completing her job.

“Death” or Rio Vidal, as she had told you to call her, had presented herself one day in front of you, annoyed that you did not let her do her job and collect the bodies she so much wanted, she started to visit you more frequently, until the two of you fell in love, one day after you were brutally attacked and about to die, you woke up alone and wounded, you only knew, you were supposed to die, but you didn’t, waiting for Rio to come back, she never did, you waited for her for years, and she never came back, leaving you heartbroken and angry.

After many centuries, you see her again at the witches’ road, would she be able to explain what happened or are you going to keep her pushing away because of your anger and pain?

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Coming soon…

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Wanda Maximoff x Agatha Harkness ✩ Wandagatha x fem!reader

Blooming flowers

Summary: You own the flower shop in Westview, you’re a good friend of Wanda and Agatha, who would have said you were going to fall for them.

Flowers and their meanings are beautiful, even if they are growing inside your lungs.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Coming soon…

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

Natasha Romanoff x wanda Maximoff ✩ Wandanat x fem!reader

Coming soon…

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 1 - part 2 - part 3

pairing - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - ellies willpower gets tested

additional tags - shy/loser! ellie, promiscuous! but inexperienced reader, masturbation/wet dream mention, cowboy boot wearing els, eventual smut, sexual tension, mutual pinning blah blah blah

───── ☾•┈୨♡୧┈•☽ ─────

You stirred in your sleep, darkness still cast over the sky. You tossed and turned, trying to get a couple more hours of sleep in before the day started, but you couldn't- the aching in your tummy growing harder to ignore.

You push your hips further down into the pillow that sat between your thighs, grinding down on it. A soft whimper seeps through your lips, growing more desperate.

Imagines of Ellie that last time you saw her clouded your unaware mind, sweat gleamed her cheeks, slightly red from the sunburn, and how she ditched the button-up, leaving her in a white tank top stained with dirt and rust.

In your sleepy fog, you turn over on your tummy, holding the pillow in place beneath you. Your nightgown bunched up from your rustling, settling around your waist, leaving your white cotton panties exposed to the moon.

"Mm-fhm e-ellie." You whimper, drool pooling onto your floral pattern sheets beneath you.

You looked pathetic, humping your pillow, eyes still shut, and a cease between your eyebrows. It was lazy and sloppy, but it's not your fault since you were still technically sleeping, having a wet dream about your daddy's little helper.

It was deprived and sick. I mean, you've only just met her, and you've never even had sex before, so what's so special about some girl you barely knew?

Your head didn't know, but your body did. You craved her- in a fucked up sort of primal way, the same way animal instincts work during the spring, eager to find a mate and reproduce.

You felt empty, and only she could fix that.

-

The morning greeted you how it always did, sunshine flooding your window and the songs of birds ringing loudly outside.

You rub your eye with the back of your hand, looking around slightly confused. You don't remember what you did, the sheets in disarray more than usual, and the damp patch in your panties seemed to help you remember.

"Shit." You mumble, stumbling out of bed and tugging your panties down and over your legs. You dig through your drawer, pulling out a clean pair as your fathers voice called to you from the bottom of the stair.

"Y/n, I need to run into town, I'll be back in a few hours. Ellie's here in case anything happens."

Even though you were technically an adult- your father never liked to leave you home alone for too long- too scared of something happening to his precious daughter.

"Okay~" you yell back in a sing-songy tone- basically, it was your best attempt to sound like you weren't as panicked as you were.

You change your clothes, throwing on some denim shorts and a cropped baby tee since you were too tired for "first impressions" bullshit.

You make your way down the stairs, the soft pattering of your socks went unnoticed to the unaware Ellie who was standing in the living room, observing the collage of pictures that decorated the walls.

"Good morning, Ellie."

Your soft, slightly groggy voice made her turn around. Her eyes immediately take notice of the lack of a bra under your thin shirt and the strip of skin showing between the bottom hem of your top and the waistband of your shorts.

"M-mornin', doll." She clears her throat, looking back to the pictures to hide the fact she was absolutely falling apart in your presence.

You however, we're better at hiding it than she was. It was painfully obvious that Ellie was worked up about something, and you knew it was you.

You were kind of used to it- the admiration, that is, being in such a small town, the pickings were slim, and it just so happens that everyone in town agreed that you were by far the prettiest thing on this side of the Mississippi River.

"Have you eaten?" You asked, already passing under the archway into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

"Uh- no, not yet."

Ellie follows your lead like a dog, making her way into the kitchen to sit in a barstool that over saw the kitchen, giving her a first row view of all your movements.

"Good- let me make you breakfast, I can make a mean pancake."

Ellie stutters to interfere, not wanting to bother you to do such a thing for her, but you insist- claiming she needed some meat on her bones.

You even poured her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice since she refused the coffee.

Ellie's face was bright red upon seeing you all done up, "real housewife type," she thought. Your little apron hanging loosely around your neck, the strings wrapping around your waist, accentuating the curve of your hips just right, and how your hair danced over your back as you mixed the batter.

She could get used to this- seeing you every day and the little outfits you wore that made her head spin. She ached for you the same way you ached for her, but she'd never let herself give into her desires, not unless- you gave in first. 

"What did daddy need to go into town fr'?" You asked, placing the plate in front of Ellie before sitting down beside her on the empty barstool.

Ellie observes the plate, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of food- a stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and not forgetting the bacon, of course.

She thought, for a second, you were trying to kill her or give her a heart attack at the very least.

"Uh- said something about needing some parts for the tractor-" She picks up the fork and knife and begins to cut into the food.

"Thank you, doll, you didn't have to do all this for me."

"Hush- don't you start, I did it because I wanted too." You smile at her, taking a bite of your pancake, licking the syrup clean off the fork.

Ellie almost choked on her own food. Surely, you were doing this on purpose; to make her life a living hell- or maybe, some sort of sex fantasy that only her dreams could muster.

She awkwardly laughs out of discomfort, directing her eyes to the food in front of her incase you actually do give her a heart attack with your little antics.

You two chatted while you ate- well, mostly you chatted- Ellie being too scared to make a sound to direct attention on her- just silently agreeing with whatever words came out of your mouth.

She watched you though- in between bites. You had her wrapped around your little finger, even if she didn't know it.

You had her exactly where you wanted her.

You knew she'd notice how your tongue wetted your lips or how the syrup started to drip down you chin.

"Oh.. you got a little- here." She dropped the silverware, her hand coming up to your face as she took her thumb and wiped the sticky substance away before putting it in her mouth, tasting the sweet molasses on her taste buds.

Your eyes linger on her lips, darkening with your growing insatiable hanger. Ellie's face immediately lit up in embarrassment, regretting the gesture altogether. She was painfully unaware of what she just did- just trying to help you is all.

"Sorry.., sorry- I dunno why I did that." She awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the nape of neck with her hand.

"Don't be sorry, els- I really appreciate havin' you around- don't know what I'd do without you." You found your voice to be; sickeningly sweet when Ellie was around, but you couldn't help it when you could tell how much of an effect it had on her.

You pat her thigh before dragging it away, making sure she can really feel your touch through her jeans as you grab both of the plates and take them to the sink.

Ellie swallowed the rest of her juice in one gulp, her mind at war if she should make an excuse that she had to leave because if she didn't? She didn't know what she might end up doing to you.

But it was already too late, you were quickly grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the kitchen.

"Come upstairs- wanna show you my room."

Ellie was fucked.

You open the door, holding your arm out as a soft "ta-da" leaves your lips. You fall into your bed, flipping onto your stomach with your ankles crossed, slightly swaying in the air.

Ellie hesitantly; takes a step into the room, still holding onto the door handle in case she needed an escape plan.

"Uh.. why are we up here?" She cracks a nervous smirk, looking around at the new environment.

"I wanted to show you my room-" you slightly pout, your hands tucking under your chin.

"Whaddya think?"

Ellie takes a second- looking around at the room and down to you, her eyes pausing at the curve of your back that dips into your ass.

Fuck- daisy duke shorts might be her kryptonite.

"It's- uh... it's very girly." Her hand leaves the handle as she takes a few more steps into the room, looking more closely at the pictures and paintings that decorated your walls.

"Do you not like it?" You pout some more, flipping onto your back with your knees propped up, making it even harder for Ellie as your cropped shirt rises more on your torso, dangerously close to exposing the undercurve of your breasts.

Ellie takes a seat at the edge of the bed, her head turning to look at your horizontal position over her shoulder.

"It suits you, doll."

Your hand comes up to play with the fabric of her sleeve. In Ellie's eyes- it seemed absentmindedly- like it didn't mean anything on your behalf, and she was getting worked up for nothing, but you knew exactly what you were doing- carefully calculating every little thing you did when Ellie was around.

"Why do you always call me that?" You softly chuckle, fixating your eyes on your hand that slipped to the exposed skin of her forearm- just lightly traces shapes over the faded ink.

Ellie tenses under your touch- her boxers tightening under her jeans.

"Because you look like one." She said barely above a whisper, her voice; coarse, and it dug into your chest.

Silence filled the space between you two besides the soft rustling of the trees outside your window. Your hand moves to her back as you drag your nails lightly across it.

You were testing her limits, wanting to see how much it would take until she finally gave in to what she's been wanting since the day she met you.

Her head turns away from you, letting it hang between her shoulders as she mumbles an inaudible fuck under her breath.

"You scare me."

Your eyebrows slightly scrunch at this, momentarily confused by the statement, but it was all an act. You were playing a game with Ellie- whether she knew it or not, and you were winning.

"Scare you? How?"

Her head comes up, looking back over her shoulder at you. Her eyes were piercing this time, darker than you remembered them being.

She leans down, getting dangerously close to your face- close enough you could feel her breath against your lips.

"You make me feel like-" she pauses, her voice firming under her clenched jaw.

"- like I can't control myself around you."

*sorry idk if I like how this turned out but oh wellll

❥ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @tfuuka @mattm1964 @tlouadditc @bugaboodarling @robinismywifee @omgidksblog @bf4iy4z @ellieswifee @endureher @asteroidzzzn @machetegirl109 @thatgiraffefromtlou @locaforellie @bellaramseysgirlfriend @wannabwanted @iconsoft @abbbyslefttitty @fireflyelllie

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii there!

I wanted to request an oscar tully x targaryen reader maybe rhaenyras daughter please.. tbh i dont even know what it should be about i just wanted it to ba a oscar and targ reader .. thanks ☺️☺️

The river and the flame

Oscar Tully x princess!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, kissing, holding hands, no use of Y/n

Summary : A sacrifice, the only daughter of the Queen of the Black had to be married and the best match was the new young Lord of the House of Tully who promised to give his strength to the Queen. An engagement and marriage consummated, the fire finds itself in waters where both young nobles must hold each other to make it together and not burn and drown each other.

info : thank you dear anon for this request it was a lot of fun to write it have fun reading and have a nice day everyone

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With fire and strength she could have been born, but when the gods were merciful and gave her first husband something in a night of listlessness through wine and potions, the Queen of the Black conceived her fourth child from a marriage that could never have been consummated.

The queen's first and own princess was born, the little child with the image of her parents bright hair thicker than her mother's silken hair and violet eyes like gems that captured everyone. Behind her were the symbols of the dragon and so she was the only one of her siblings to keep her mother's family name, a decision that complicated things and put her three brothers in an even worse light.

But sacrifices had to be made for the princess, sacrifices in the form of "assassinations", new marriages and the retreat to Dragonstone where the faction of the blacks gathered and rebuilt over the course of weeks and months.

The legacy of the Black Dragon Queen was laid on her true daughter and two small toddlers, even though Jacaerys Velaryon was her eldest son and a young man willing to prove himself to inherit his mother's legacy, he knew he had strength in his blood, a blood that his two brothers had but not his half-siblings.

So the Targaryen family, the black party faced with serious problems Daemond in Harenhall had been trying to gather support for some time, Aegon and Viserys sent away with Rhaena but what now?

An alliance had to be forged because even if honor still prevailed houses no longer chose Viserys' side, it was about the future of families, of royalty and children, it was a decision that could mean death or life, ,,Without news from Daemon we cannot rely on the support of the Riverlands…if you allow the proposal of marriage to be made" the Master began again, who returned without his raven's message.

But she didn't even have to look up from the map to hear her mother's reply, ,,Out of the question" before Rhaenyra tried to find answers in the documents and maps, she had no one to marry but her daughter, but what mother wanted to lose her child in an area she could never get to herself.

It could mean her death but when violet eyes met there was something like hope in the princess's eyes, ,,If my queen allows me to marry the new Lord Tully I would be protected by the Prince Regent and the lords of the surrounding houses who have sworn allegiance to Oscar Tully" she gave her explanation and clasped the small metal statue of the fish they had all heard the aftermath of the death and resurrection of the head of the house and it was the only solution.

It ended in a few arguments, tears and loving gestures but now just a few days later here she was under the banner of the fish with her husband Osacr Tully, despite the fact that they were both young so appreciative of each other he had welcomed her without vourtiele was sincere and loving…and perhaps her heart had beaten faster than she thought when he had placed a kiss on her palm.

He held her hand as he showed her Riverrun, introduced her to the household, the hall and the vassals who had also proclaimed themselves for his wife, he treated her as in the songs and stories of yesteryear about noble knights, ,,My reign would not be possible without you, you are the first flame in the river and my heart rejoices more and more every day in your company my beloved," he said to her as he helped her onto one of the boats and they sailed across the river together.

She smiled back at him and gratefully held his hand, holding this little,,,nushell" quite insecurely in contrast to her grandfather's boats, but with every little jerk he held her tightly to him, his dark eyes like the river assuring her of her safety.

,,You are safe I promise" he murmured to her as he held her and she dipped her hand in the river, the wetness and coolness was pleasant instead of the everlasting heat and warmth, ,,I will follow you my lord husband" she replied after the words her mother and grandmother had taught her.

Before she felt his hand gently on her cheek it was just the two of them and the still river as they came closer and kissed again, ,,Oscar please my love" she whispered and she leaned her forehead against his for a moment as the two barely grown nobles lay in each other's arms enjoying the river ride while a joyful scream could be heard above them from time to time between the clouds and she followed Oscar's interested gaze closely.

The water, the fish, the river was her new home, which she quickly took to her heart. Her clothes, although now more of a bluish red and bronze, she kept the symbols of the dragon with her hair, brooches and Seasmoke herself.

Until she met her great-uncle again who had watched this marriage with a disdainful look and even if he didn't admit it, it offended him that his great-niece had managed the union in what he couldn't do in weeks, ,,Impressive isn't it what a princess can do with such looks and devotion, isn't it Lady Tully?" he had asked her at dinner as he sat next to her and looked into tired, almost haggard eyes that resembled her own in color.

She knew Oscar must have heard, she knew her great-uncle and her husband hated each other, didn't like the prospect of sharing power, ,,Her sacrifice to her family and the Queen towards my Targaryen wife is truly impressive she is not only in my house she is the Guardian of the Riverlands Prince Regent" Oscar said with pride in his voice as he raised his goblet and took her hand saying a good luck to Rhaenyra and his wife and she welcomed the restraint of her great uncle who would have otherwise only made things worse.

But all could not always go well only one moon later at the weirwood tree in the garden of the ruined castle Harenhall the houses of the Riverlands found themselves together with Oscar as their new lord and Daemon, a confrontation the princess attended with Seasmoke watching over the whole thing with an interested eye.

A confrontation that ended in blood as Daemond cut off Ser Willem's head ordered by Oscar whose eyes reflected fear for a moment as he looked into hers she clasped his hand the highborn couple watched this execution for all to see she felt the brief squeeze of her hand as Oscar truly saw this bloodshed for the first time.

,,You did the right thing Oscar they will follow you now and so will my great uncle…I won't let any words come back to haunt you I will stand for it" she told him as soon as everyone else had left the ruined garden and the young lord sat down by the tree still somewhat affected by the murder she felt herself almost reflexively wiping the blood away with a handkerchief before helping Oscar wipe his away.

She returned his silent thanks with a gentle kiss and the two sat there in silence until an idea came to her and she called her dragon who was struggling for space in the garden, ,,You have shown me the beauty of the water of your river let me show you the beauty of the sky" she said and climbed onto Seasmoke's back who seemed happy to be flying again.

She saw how it confused him for a moment, the boy rose and placed his hand carefully on the bright waremn scales and Seasmoke nudged him, mocking Ocsar who had been feeding the dragon fish with the help of his wife.

,,Can we fly through clouds? " Oscar asked as she saw courage and joy return to his gaze and he placed himself behind her, his grip on her stomach tightened and she heard his cry as Seasmoke took off with a scream and seemed to disappear into the smoke of his fire in the air.

She put one hand on Oscar's while with the other she gently guided Seasmoke, knowing that Oscar didn't understand her she would one day teach him, ,,I'll fly through anything you want look at this peace and quiet" she said louder over the sound of the loud flapping of wings and Seasmoke's hissing she heard Oscar slowly relax and hug her, laughing happily as he too saw this special something she could see every day.

Up here there didn't seem to be any problems it was quiet not too hot or too cold and peaceful, ,,It's incredibly beautiful" he mumbled continuing to hold on to her fetus as she headed for the clouds and he hesitantly held out a hand and gasped as his fingers got wet and showed her like a little child enjoying a wooden swing but she did the same and they joined hands and flew through the clouds for hours.

She heard his thanks and praise every now and then, a kiss on her cheek and both their hearts beat together in peace as they found beauty in each other's homes, together in love that would go beyond war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[babydin]

Make A Wish - REQUEST

ANON REQUESTED: But what if Sarah never died? And Reader was married to Joel pre-outbreak but when the outbreak happened they (Reader and Sarah) got separated from Joel and he was convinced they had both died. But then they reunite in Jackson.

- Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Joel is dad, references to violence, domesticated af, angsty, fluff, pre-outbreak, post-outbreak, time-jumps. - 2490 words  - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! A/N: I had some song inspo with this one in the way of Zambezi by Rationale (released under Tinashe). I also headcanoned that the Miller brothers are (at least) half Latino seeing as they had two Latino actors play them. Fight me on it.

Do you remember the day the soldiers came with all their guns? 'Cause I remember begging you to leave my love, "Just run! Past the river, don't you dare look back for me my love. I will come. I will come, because you're the one."

 You knew what you were getting yourself into. Your mother thought you were insane but she didn’t know Joel Miller like you did. He was 4 years divorced when you met him with the sweetest little girl. He made it clear from the outset that he was a single father, and Sarah’s mother had left when Sarah was a baby and she wasn’t coming back “I’m tellin’ y’now because girls tend t’ cut an’ run the second they find out I’m a twofer.” he explained on the first date your best friend had set you up on. “Sarah is my number one, she is my top priority.”

You hadn’t intended to date anyone who ‘was a twofer’ as he put it, but the way he spoke about his daughter, and the way his face lit up when he did, you knew you wanted to give him a shot.   You dated, you married after two years of being together, and you had 8 years of marital bliss as a perfectly happy family before the world turned on its ass.

OUTBREAK DAY

You find Joel and Sarah in the kitchen making dinner. The Clash are playing from a vinyl record in the next room and they’re both so into it; You remember Joel telling you that Sarah had been a fan of the Clash since she was a baby.

“You should be sitting down doing nothing, birthday boy.” You tell him, swatting his rear end playfully as you lean over his shoulder to see what he’s fixing. Of course it’s a chili con carne; he was half Texan half Latino.

“And leave the cookin’ to you two? Yeah ‘cus that’s how I wanna spend the rest of my birthday… dead.”

“Hey!” Sarah drawls.

You pinch his sides and it coaxes a ticklish squeal from him.

Sarah goes to set the dinner table, singing to Joe Strummer's ongoing debate about whether he should stay or whether he should go.

There’s an almighty bang from somewhere and it’s enough to make Joel put his spoon down, “Sarah?”

You both turn around to go into the dining room but Sarah’s on her way back with a fist full of cutlery to ask the same question.

“What the hell was that?” Joel asked, “Did you drop something? Did something fall?”

Sarah shakes her head, her ringlets bounce as she does and her eyes are full of fear.

Joel’s trying to figure out if she means that or if she’s saying no because she’s scared to say yes. The second bang answers his question.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, and goes to the front door to see what’s going on. Sarah finds comfort in your arms and you rub your hand over her back and tell her it’ll be okay. You can hear commotion outside and you put one hand over Sarah’s ear and press her into your chest so she can’t hear.  You can hear Joel talking to the neighbors but you can’t hear what he’s saying, then suddenly there’s a PA urging people to stay inside.

Joel comes back after a few moments, “Military jets,” he says from the hallway as he makes his way back through the house “they just sonic “they just went supersonic, there’s somethin’ happenin’.” he doesn’t come back to you, he goes straight to the living room and turns on the TV. You don’t fully listen to what is said but you hear the words ‘risk to life’ and ‘infected’.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

You jump nearly out of your skin and cling tighter to Sarah when the door bursts open and Joel’s brother Tommy runs through the house “Joelie! Joel!” He finds the two of you in the kitchen and then Joel joins you all.

“What the fuck is going on man?” Joel begs the question, leaning in to turn off the stove. The chili is ruined now, he’s sure of it.

“There are soldiers everywhere, they’re telling everyone to stay inside, but the infection is spreading like wildfire here, if we stay we ain’t got a chance in hell Joel, we have to get out of town.”

You feel Sarah’s body tremble and there’s a slight moisture that falls on your shirt and you realize she’s silently crying. If you squeeze her any tighter she might suffocate but you do anyway, just to try and shield her from the horrors that are unfolding. She had started calling you Mom when she was 9 years old, and you loved her like she was yours from the day you met,  “We can’t just leave. We can’t–” You look at Joel desperately.

Joel looks at you, and he looks at Tommy. You can see he’s torn, he needs to keep his family safe and right now he doesn’t know if leaving is the safest option or staying put is.

Should I stay or should I go? 

“Alright, let’s go.” He says finally. “Go upstairs, throw some stuff in a bag.”

“Hurry up.” Tommy adds.

  You punch him in the chest as you walk past him, holding Sarah’s hand to lead her upstairs to help her pack a bag. You try to keep her talking to distract her from the screaming, and the gunfire from the situation that has escalated outside, through the window you see a faint glow of flames and you wonder how the hell you’re even going to make it out of the town. It’s difficult for a 14 year old to whittle down the most important things in her life to one rucksack, it’s difficult for you to decide what from your 10 year relationship with Joel means enough to survive the apocalypse. Because that’s how it felt. You take your wedding photos, you take childhood photos from Sarah’s life; things like that can’t be replaced but other shit can.

You both head back downstairs and you throw Joel his bag. The vinyl has stopped and it’s now skipping but it doesn’t feel like there’s time to lift the needle. You just leave the house and cram into Tommy’s truck. Something down the street catches Joel’s eye and he gets back out again.

“Joel!” you and Tommy both yell at the same time Sarah cries out “Daddy!”

“I’ll catch you up!” he yells back.

“The fuck you will.” You mutter under your breath, getting out of the truck too, “Joel Miller!”

He stops and turns around, “Run.” he orders, looking over your shoulder at his crying daughter in the back seat of the truck, “I’ll find you.” he looks back at you, “I promise I’ll find you.”

There are soldiers surrounding you who start to scream at you to get back inside your house, their guns aimed to tell you that their threats are serious.

“I’ll find you.” 

FOUR YEARS LATER

You knew what you were getting yourself into. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you fell in love with Joel Miller and his four year old daughter. Your mother thought you were insane and maybe she was right. What you didn’t expect was for a bunch of mutant mushrooms to eat away at people’s brains and turn them into, well, there was no easier way to say it than zombies. You didn’t expect Joel to be missing, presumed dead, and to raise Sarah mostly by yourself. The people of Jackson were helpful people, they were in a tight knit community because they had no choice but to be. Where else were they going to go in a world of nothing? It had been four years since you last saw Joel. Four years, nine months and twenty nine days to be exact. You made a point to count the days because you didn’t want Sarah to ever miss a birthday. She was turning 18 now, and if the world was normal she’d be getting excited to make plans for college and register to vote - because Sarah Miller was very opinionated and had a good head on her shoulders, and she definitely would not have let her voice go unheard - but the world wasn’t normal. So you woke as you always did, tucked up together in a double bed, the morning sun illuminating the room with a golden glow and the two of you stretching like a couple of lazy house cats. “Happy birthday, baby!” You croak, pulling her closer. The older she got the closer your relationship became, it might’ve been pathetic but she was your best friend and you hoped you were hers. She wasn’t a child anymore, she was an adult (although it pained you to admit she hadn’t been a child for a long time). “Thank you.” She smiled sleepily and scrubbed her eyes. She wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for you counting down the days. “What’s your birthday wish this year?” You ask. Sarah sighed and looked over your shoulder at the photograph on your nightstand of you and Joel on your wedding day, six year old Sarah who had been a flower girl, tucked onto his hip as you all smiled into the camera. A perfect picture of a happy family. “Him.” It’s been the same wish for the last four years, and you wish you could fulfill it for her. “I know, baby. I miss him too.. More than anything actually. I don’t miss going to the movies, or grocery shopping, or parent-teacher conferences or any of the boring, mundane stuff that just doesn’t exist anymore. At least not in the capacity that it used to… I just miss him.” In an attempt to lighten the mood a little you add, “I made a cake for you last night, you want some for your breakfast?” “For breakfast?!” “It���s your birthday! And you’re an adult now.” The day passes by as the days often do, slowly and unspectacularly. On slow days nothing happens in Jackson, occasionally bandits come and try to raid the dam that powers the town but their missions are always shut down quickly by those appointed to secure it. You and Sarah are tending to the patch of vegetables you have in your front yard when you hear a voice from the entrance of the town echo “Stop right there!” Both of you look up. You can’t see what’s happening but you wish people would stop pointing their guns. You can only assume someone has wandered through the forest and found the town, the guard on the gate has stopped them in their tracks. Understandably, newcomers aren’t welcomed warmly in fear of infection. You see the person set down a rifle, and a backpack and their hands disappear from their side to, you assume, rise in surrender. You strain slightly and hear a gruff voice speak but you cannot make out words and no matter where you position yourself you cannot get a good look at the newcomer.  The guard yells for Tommy, who is always close by and your interest is piqued. You rise from your knees and your eyes scan for where Tommy is going to come from, when you find him you watch him, you study his face and you watch it fall. He points a finger at the guard, “Put your fucking gun down! Don’t you dare! Don’t you shoot!” he picks up his pace, he jogs, he runs. You start to walk and you hear a second voice yell for Tommy. It’s the newcomer’s voice. It’s familiar somehow. The two men come into view, locked in a tight embrace, you can only see Tommy but you keep walking towards them, you barely hear Sarah calling out ‘Mom’ from the swirling in your head. “Tommy?” You ask when you’re in earshot. The newcomer pries himself out of Tommy’s grip and his head snaps in your direction. A lump forms in your throat and your chest heaves so much you feel as if you could throw up. Joel. It’s him. It’s really him. He’s got flecks of silver running through his hair now, maybe a few more wrinkles. Patches of darkened skin from wounds he’s gained over the years, and a few small fresh purple bruises. You haven’t seen him cry since Sarah moved up from Kindergarten to big girl school and she was gone all day and he didn’t know what to do with himself. You thought he’d be better when she went from middle school to high school but he was just as bad then. But he was crying now. He was sobbing in such a way you wondered if he’d been alone for these years apart; you didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He was here. You could hardly believe it. Your eyes filled with tears of joy; you had dreamed of the day that Joel might be returned to you, although you had given up hope of that ever happening, you had imagined yourself being the same sobbing mess that Joel was but you weren’t at all. Your body was vibrating with delight, and your smile was so big your cheeks were hurting. “Hi.” you whispered. That was all it took for him to drag you into his arms and squeeze you so tightly that it almost winded you. You took all of him in again, the feeling of his body against yours, his arms wrapped around you, the smell of him in your nose. “I thought I’d lost you forever.” he whispered, “I thought you’d—” he couldn’t finish that sentence, but you knew, because you thought the same of him.  “You said you’d find us. You did.” Us. Joel’s eyes open and scan the surroundings over your shoulder, you hear him sob and he pulls away from you and he runs towards her. His baby girl. Sarah starts crying as she jumps up into his arms, her limbs wrapping around him like a koala bear. It doesn’t matter how old she gets, she’ll always be his baby. You approach them and hear Joel whispering “Look at you,” as he brushes his hand over the back of her head, “my little girl, look at you.” Sarah dropped down so she could look at him too, your arms wrapped around Joel’s middle as he studied her face so carefully, his fingers delicately mapping out her features, “You’re all grown up,” he says in a chuckle, but with a hint of sorrow in his voice. “I wished for you.” Sarah tells him, her voice has more childlike innocence in it than you’ve heard in a long time. “Today is my birthday, Daddy. I wished for you.” Joel put one arm around you so he could embrace the both of you, “I always knew you were magic, babygirl.” “Are you staying here with us? Are we going to be a family again?” “No.” you answer before Joel does, much to the surprise of your husband and daughter, “Not until he’s had a shower.” Joel breathes out a sigh of relief and kisses your forehead.

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | series masterlist

Hi, and welcome to Bora Ranch!

At Bora Ranch you will rediscover who you are, reconnect with your sister, and your childhood friend, Park Jimin, that will stir old feelings back. There's a lot of ups and downs, a lot of heartbreak, misunderstandings, what ifs, bad timing, but in the end, you will know what truly makes your heart beat, and where your heart's home is.

It's a story that will take you on a heartbreaking journey to find out what love is and the meaning of 'home', coming home and finding love. There's a lot of angst in it, I'd call it HEALING ANGST. Everything will be good in the end! Just have to go through a lot of heartbreak before the sun truly shines. There's a lot of soulmates vibes/undertones in it, and it's a lovestory at it's core. It's very romancey (Why do I suddenly feel like I wrote a YA but with mature language???).

This story is HEAVLY inspired by McLoed's Daughters (both the world/setting/plot), some plot points follow that story, but most of it doesn't.

“It will take some time To find your heart And come back home You could walk for miles Cross every river And find your not alone ‘Cos I'll be there” - From McLeod’s Daughters theme song

🐴 Summary: You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite? 🐴 Pairing: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter)*, jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc *I also want to clarify some things about the tags/pairings! Jungkook x reader only happens once, it is crucial for the sake of the plot, but please don't let that stop you from reading it (I take it you want to read it because of Jimin x reader). Jimin x reader is the main couple! 🐴 Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴 AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au 🐴 Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) 🐴 Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! 🐴 Word count: 230k (epilogue excluded) 🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴 Warnings/tag: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension and a hell of a lot of angst! Like series is an emotional rollercoaster ride, it will leave you both happy, sad, frustrated, mad, angry and oh so in love. All through the series. You have been warned, lol. 🐴 Status: completed 🥳 🐴 Fancy reading on AO3? It is cross-posted there! 🐴 Do you want to see the book cover (there's a teaser too)? [it's here] 🐴 Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨

Chapter #1 - Inheritance | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter one

Chapter #2 - It’s a Long Road | word count: 9.1k | read → chapter two

Chapter #3 - Sometimes | word count: 11.8k | read → chapter three

Chapter #4 - It Comes to This | word count: 7.5k | read → chapter four

Chapter #5 - Our Home, Our Place | word count: 11k | read → chapter five

Chapter #6 - Wild Horses | word count: 11k | read → chapter six

Chapter #7 - We Got it Wrong | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter seven

Chapter #8 - Love You, Hate You | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter eight

Chapter #9 - Take the Rain Away | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter nine

Chapter #10 - The First Touch | word count: 16.4k | read → chapter ten

Chapter #11 - This Perfect Day | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter eleven

Chapter #12 - Broken Dreams | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter twelve

Chapter #13 - Love Letter | word count: 13.4k | read → chapter thirteen

Chapter #14 - I Wish the Past was Different | word count: 10.5k | read → chapter fourteen

Chapter #15 - Did I Tell You? | word count: 13.7k | read → chapter fifteen

Chapter #16 - The Stranger | word count: 14.1k | read → chapter sixteen

Chapter #17 - Love of Your Life | word count: 13.3k | read → chapter seventeen

Chapter #18 - By My Side | word count: 14.7k | read → chapter eighteen

Chapter #19 - Home [END] | word count: 18.2k | read → chapter nineteen

Chapter #20 - My Heart's Home [Epilogue + Q&A] | word count: 7.4k | read → chapter twenty

Please let me know if you're excited for this??? I'm still writing it, and honestly... I love it! But it's tough to write such a long series without any feedback or knowledge whether it's good or sucks... so.. yeah....

[milksuu]

Glitter & Leather | Hiccup x Fairy!Reader

Pairings: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x fairy!fem!reader

Content/Warnings: None

Contains: Fluff & Foul Fairy Language

a/n: couldn't help but be inspired by a few mythical!reader fics. also, I have a current obsession with faitytale themes at the moment. might be a part 2 soon!

“My, aren’t you a teeny human?”

There was a squeak in a grove of mossy timber trees, laden with flower beds and fists-full of sprouted grass. Standing one mushroom cap high, you tip-toed across a linen wrapped around a cooing newborn, existing with eyes still closed. It was an unlucky fate that the child was weak, unwanted, and left to the cruel hand of nature. However, it was to your fortune that this child would be the exchange for your promised gift. 

“My king will be so happy when I return with you,” you said, dancing giddily, ”and then, I’ll finally have my wings. Won’t that be a dream?”

Your pitter-pattering and mousy meeps stirred the babe, and its sniffling turned into wails that even cotton balls in your ears wouldn’t muffle. 

“Stop crying!” You stomped and slapped your pointed ears shut. “You should be happy to live as a servant for all eternity, instead of dying.”

The child responded with more tears than one could imagine. It flung its blubby hands forward, grasping you tightly, flailing you about. It bonked you left and right, tither and hither, and every space in between. When it smushed you across its blubbering face, you gasped on the dollops of tears soaking your entire head. 

You coughed and spat on the salty taste. “Let go of me you soggy lump!”

Your own cries were meaningless. The child held tighter, and you feared your bones would become miniscule mounds of white dust and glitter. With a defeated sigh, you cleared your throat, and hummed a sweet tune beloved and true in the Seelie court. A song of merriment, dancing, and feasting. Gradually, the baby's cries dwindled to waning breaths, until its own exhaustion tucked it back to sleep.

Wiggling and prying, you popped out from its weakened hold. Drained yourself, you fell to your hands and knees on the child. The shawl beneath was soft and inviting, and a nap sounded pleasant before your trip back to the kingdom. Amid your droning thoughts, the sobs and cries of a human echoed through the morning mist. It was not that of a baby, nor a child, but of a woman. 

You turned your head to peek at the baby's cherub features. “Looks like they want to keep you after all.”

You hung your chin low, contemplating snatching the child away before the naked eye could see. The terrible sobs and desperate crunching of distant gravel grew like roots in your chest, entangling your heart in thorns.

“Oh, for the love bee’s and poppy seeds,” you huffed and pointed a finger at his wet nose. “I’m sparing you today, but when we meet again, I will be taking you with me.”

With an indignant ‘hmph’ you hopped down to the grass bed below, scurrying behind a rock with fungus growing all over. Your lashes blinked when the human woman sprang into view. Throwing herself to the ground, she crawled on aching hands and knees to fetch the tiny bundle. Cradling the babe close, she whispered choked apologies and words of affection in endless rivers.

There was a flutter in your heart, and the tiniest lift to your lips. Although you would not get your wings today, in this moment you thought, sparing the child was a present better to give, than to receive.

⋆ ˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ⚜⎯⎯☾ ༻♔༺ ☽⎯⎯ ⚜₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖ ⋆

Twenty-years later…

Between the aged timber greens and soft patches of wildflowers, grew a new flourish of apple blossoms. The orchard became your hiding place and home, since you hadn’t returned to the fairy realm for all these years. You swore an oath not to return until you were able to complete your task; the shame if you came back empty handed would be too much to bare. Your king wasn’t fond of failure.

Nothing less than success was expected from his own daughter, after all.

Stepping out of your mushroom cottage made for one, you decided to search for a fallen apple for breakfast. Thinking you heard one drop south of your home, you ventured, pushing away blades of grass. You came upon one, red and shapely. There was never a dull moment in your world, and you arm wrestled an centipede and all its legs to claim it. As the crowned victor, you stuck out your tongue to its retreating form. 

The ground thundered, shaking the pebbles and dirt at your feet. You pressed yourself against the fruit, wrapping your arms around it, hoping to hide. The creature loomed just above you, and you felt the apple move. Hoisted into the air, your trembling body went with it. You clamped your mouth shut, withholding any sound. 

“Eh, is that a worm?”

You felt a thumb and finger pinch your clothes, plucking you off. You squealed, throwing your fists into the air.

“How dare you call me a worm!” 

You stared squarely at the face of the human boy you recognized. Knowing this made your blood steam hotter than boiled water.

“O-Oh Gods, not a worm, definitely not a worm, more like a…” he spoke windily, and your scowl deepened as his green eyes squinted further. “Tiny person?”

“Fairy person,” you corrected indignantly.

“Right, this is kinda strange, I thought you'd have wings at least,” he mumbled to himself, rolling your body around in his hand like a bag of marbles. “Is this even real? I wonder if I’m dreaming.”

“I am real. Now let go of me,” you squirmed, steam blowing from your ears, “you overgrown human baby!”

“Are all fairies always this…” he paused, finding the right words to say through his tight lips. “Pleasant?”

“I was pleasant enough to let you go when you were nothing more than a drooling glob of pink pudding,” your voice chirped to the highest octave. “You no good, wasp loving, dirty hare footed, son of a cricket—Ugh!”

“Listen, my name’s Hiccup, and not any of those other words you just called me. I mean, do I even want to know what they all meant? They can’t be good where you come from.”

“You’ll get no apologies from me. You made the mistake of finding me and handling me like a brute,” you said, wrestling the thumb of his finger. “I made a promise back then, whenever we should meet again, you would be coming with me.”

“Trust me, I can tell you, we’ve never met before,” he said, furrowing his brows. “I would've remembered. Especially since you’re, well, not even human.”

“Do I have explain everything to you? I found you when you were left here once by your mo–” you stopped short of his earnest gaze. It was apparent he had no clue in the matter. You hummed with frustration. “Oh! Forget it. Your fate has been sealed, and I have you exactly where I want you, flat-footed oaf Hiccup.”

He raised an eyebrow at your struggling form, and a blush came over you. “D-Don’t look at me like that. I’ve fought fleas more intimidating than you. Horseradish! I’ve even fought nasty toads and escaped out of one's belly once.”

“You realize you’re no taller than my left pinky, right?” He grinned at your fluster. “Tell you what, you tell me your name, and I’ll let you go.”

“If you must know, it’s Y/N,” you mumbled, puffing out your cheeks and crossing your arms. “Not that it’ll matter for long, anyway.”

“Huh, why do you say that?”

“Because you’ll be fast asleep soon,” you spoke plainly.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing his curious features closer. “What do you mean by that? I don’t even feel–”

You popped your hands out, blowing a thick layer of sparkling dust. He sneezed against the twinkling cloud, and after a mystifying blink of his eyes, they rolled back to meet the dreamlands behind them. You were about to commemorate your victory, till his form swayed and staggered. The onslaught of wind pulled at your cheeks, lashes, hair and ears. You feared you would need a whole new face. You squealed at the top of your thimble lungs, plummeting to the earth along with him. 

There was a rumble and shake when the boy hit the ground. Your lithe form bounced and flopped around like a blind caterpillar on the leathers of his chest. Still tumbling, you struggled to catch a buckle, holding on for a deer’s life. When the gravel and quakes settled, along with your thumping heart, you stood on your wobbly legs. 

“I…I did it,” you gasped, seeking to catch your breath. “Ahem! I mean, of course, I did. I’ve been preparing for this moment all along.”

Padding around, you minded your balance with the rise and falls of his chest. 

“I’ll admit, you grew from a tiny mush of jelly to be quite handsome, but too bad for you,” you said, wagging a haughty finger. “I’m not interested in taller men. Not only that, I’m far more invested in turning you in for my wings and finally claiming my recognition.”

With a hum, you tapped your lips with your fingertips, “Question is, now, is my magic strong enough to carry you. It would’ve been much easier if you were still a littler one. I’ll need to eat lots of honey if I’m able to pull this off—but bees can be so stingy.”

Begrudgingly, you admitted you didn't prepare this far; after twenty-years no less! You had all the spells in place to capture the boy, but then, it was foolish to think he would simply follow you as a willing hostage. During your pestering thoughts and plans, the earth shook as violently as it did before. You heard calls and shouts, ‘Hiccup! Where are you?’ rumbling through the leaves and woods. You pulled at your strands of glossy hair.

“Good grief!” you moaned and whined. You wondered how many friends and family this single human had, to fervently search for him, whenever you were so close to securing him. 

Pacing absentmindedly, and with a kick of your barefoot against a buckle, you sucked on the pain of your toe. Gathering yourself, you hotly stomped to meet his face. 

“This won’t be the last time we meet,” you muttered, poking and prodding his skin, “and I’ll take something precious from you just to make sure of that.” 

Scrambling, you searched through whatever pockets, nooks and crevices you could find. A medallion caught your eye. Although faded by time, it possessed an essence of sentimental value. You grinned at the luck, but it evaporated when the earthquakes surmounted. Dragging it close, you shuffled your feet, scaling the hill of his shoulder pad, and down the long ramp of his arm. With a hop, you scurried to hide behind the apple he had dropped earlier. 

“Hiccup!” You heard a feminine voice. “You’re sleeping out here, really?”

You felt the grass sway and shift as he groaned and twitched awake. Leaning, you peaked from your hiding spot.

“Astrid?” He asked groggily, rubbing the sleep powder from his face. “What…What’re you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” the blonde laughed, helping him rise and steady his feet. “Did you forget about our afternoon flight?”

“Of course not,” he said, waving his hands in front of him. “I was just…I think I saw a fairy.”

Astrid pursed her lips before chuckling and slapping his shoulder.

“That’s a good one. I’ll have to use it if I ever forget about something.”

“I swear, I didn’t forget,” he flushed, walking away with her. “I actually did see one. I even talked to it!”

“Uh-huh, sure you did.”

With banter and laughs, the two left your sight, disappearing beyond the berry bushes and apple blossoms. When the world quieted, you slumped down, pulling your knees against your chest. Resting your head in its comforts, you sighed, ready for your own afternoon nap.

To catch a human—no, to catch this human—was going to take a lot of work.