#she just knew she was good enough. had faith in herself

[thcdoomed]

She had a point, much as she hated to admit it. "Thank you," her voice came out barely above a whisper. "I can still remember what it felt like having fangs in my own throat, I didn't want to leave you with the same... trauma." That's the word, it was always the word. She woke up terrified and traumatized, surrounded by smoke and the smell of burnt flesh, and the sight of her fiance dead a few feet away, his neck snapped. They most likely killed him after making him watch her own life slip away. Had she not made it to Jalen's house when she had, barely clinging on to life, she would have turned to a dhampir with no safety net. A beast of the woods.

"I should." She really should, but she hated the nightmares that haunted her when she closed her eyes. If not the dream visitor who wore Caius' face, then the flashbacks of that night, the very ones that sometimes warped where she saw herself feeding from Caius instead. Dronia peered outside the tent again, observing the others. Even if no one questioned why she was in Shadowheart's tent, her especially glowing eyes would tip them off. Astarion would smell the blood on her breath, no doubt.

It was an amusing sight, watching the two lively animals scrambling over one another to make their way to the tent. Such wonderful beasts the both of them. They made the nights less lonely when she couldn't sleep.

Dronia was usually the one giving instructions to their faithful furry friend and the feathery cub, but Shadowheart seemed a natural at speaking gently with them. It was endearing. Made her think of the dog she had as a child that stayed on the homestead. But Scratch's attention quickly turned to her as he made his way over, whining gently and resting against her as a form of comfort. Her heart melted, people didn't deserve the kindness of animals sometimes. Her hand gently stroked his head as she looked down, her ability to speak with animals silently activated as she whispered "Good boy."

"For a second — " Dronia said, glancing up, " — I thought you were talking to me." There was a hint of amusement before she let out a yawn. All that strength she took from feeding and yet the absolute stress had worn her out enough to need the sleep. "I think I'm just going to lay my head down for a bit," she said with another yawn, allowing herself to move further into the tent to the corner Shadowheart had pointed out, allowing Scratch to come with her. She knew the moment she laid her head down, she would be out for the count.

"Some things we cannot help, Dronia. I would rather you here as you are, than beyond salvation and control," said Shadowheart, sensing where Dronia's mind was going. She must look down upon herself and this whole ordeal as a moment of admitting weakness. Shadowheart didn't think it was ego, her companion much too good-natured and well-meaning to even seem like she had such an ego. Confidence in her ability, but not an excess of said pride. But what she referred to was more ... the possibility of something else and innocence lost outside in the woods ... living that way.

"It's important that you make the effort and try, I think," She continued, finally releasing Dronia so she could address the latter statement. It made her smile, gaze shifting away from hers for a bit in fondness. That commanding tone ... that was the Dronia she remembered. It was a relief to see that she was already back to herself. "I have not set up any precautions just yet for keeping watch, however ... "

Crawling toward the mouth of the tent, she picked up a large cushion on the way and huddled near the darkness, whistling as low as possible. Dronia could probably do it better to catch both Scratch's and the cub's attention. Both heard well enough, enthusiastically making a dash for her tent and nearly stumbling over one another in the attempt to get there first.

"Scratch. You hear anything amiss, you'll bark right. Very loudly for Dronia to hear you," She nodded toward her tent guest. The dog gave a yip in response, jumping once to show he received the order, understanding her perfectly. Though Scratch was soon to whine after observing Dronia, as if sensing her distress and some of the trauma she had been through, he trotted inside, gave a soft whine before sitting down inside the cradle of her arms.

"Fine," Shadowheart conceded, keeping him in her watchful gaze. "You can sleep here, but mind my order and bark loud if you hear something. You hear better than the both of us combined."

[indigosprite]

Hi back to being delusional. If Loki got to live through infinity war but like got dusted then came back after hulk snapped and got to fight alongside Thor I would’ve LOST it if he picked up the hammer in the heat of the battle. Can you imagine the look on his face …on Thor’s proud that his brother has finally achieved change. And the lightning would be Green I don’t care. Fuck I need this as art.

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: The reader is Aemond’s new bride, a match fixed some time before Viserys’s death. Daemon’s daughter through Lady Royce navigates through a difficult now into a new chapter of being married to the one eyed prince, council and war.

warnings: daemon being an awful dad, Luke’s death, attachment issues, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage

word count: 5.1k

Part 1. Part 2

-

Worlds changed, dragons spew fire, flowers burnt and flowers bloomed, children born and doomed. Y/n, Daemon Targeryn’s first born through Lady Rhea Royce. A child he had despised ever since her birth, just an extension for his hatred towards Lady Royce in the first place. He could never stand her, having been forced to his duties he hated her even more. He was never around for the aftermath of anything, the rogue prince who knew no bounds. The child wasn’t even half a year old when he mercilessly put an end to Lady Royce. The ‘accident’ left the child at the kindness of pitiful wet nurses and the castle staff.

King Viserys however couldn’t stand such tragedy over and over, he generally refrained from interfering his brother’s life. He did regret his decision of marrying daemon to someone against his will but he could not have anticipated such a harsh counter reaction via Daemon. Especially after the babe, Viserys thought the child could perhaps soften the coldness of their relations but it only got worse. The king wished to seek some atonement at least for the sake of the child. Y/n, the princess, away at the grasslands of Runestone. He arranged for her to live at the red keep, a motherless child with an absent father would do better within her present family. The King’s children through alicent were mere babies themselves. The maids, the kind Queen herself, would do well to look after the infant. After all the red keep was her house just as much as it was Daemon’s despite his grievance towards it. Her dragon too was well looked after through the keeps instead of Runestone staff. Her dragon was just a hatchling as y/n too was a baby herself.

Alicent, younger at the time. The keep’s staff, mastered in squalling babies and fussy infants. Y/n wasn’t a bother at all. Not that she were to remember but Queen alicent was kinder to her than the fates had been, she nursed her like one of her own. Such fondness and softness towards daughters, it was nice enough. At least for a while. Y/n was six by the time daemon had come for Rhaenyra’s wedding, then off with Laena. No familiarity between the six year old y/n and her father. Too young to understand her family setting and Daemon still rancour.

Daemon had two daughters with the driftmark princess, viserys deemed him capable enough to raise y/n then. He decided to send little y/n back to her father, viserys wanted his brother to accept his daughter. Alicent had a smaller voice at that time yet she tried to reason with her husband to let y/n be at the keep. Daemon had to accept his brother’s whim anyways so he did. Viserys was as relieved as Alicent was anxious that y/n was in Pentos. King made the decision in good faith, if only he put a bit more distrust in daemon than he did trust. Daemon was still the same, y/n, still a child and he did nothing to make her feel included or at home. She learnt to keep to herself how she had seen Haelena do. Still quite young to comprehend where all such distaste came from, all these different people, different land. She longed to call a place home, her memories of the red keep, Alicent, the others it kept fading because she was but a baby back then. Her father wouldn’t teach y/n how to ride on dragon back how he did with her half sisters. But y/n had taught it to herself. Watching she learnt, she didn’t have to be told explicitly what to do. She fell a lot, on her face and back but she learnt anyways.

As years passed nothing changed between y/n and her father, her half sisters were company enough time to time but she was always in their orbit and not as close. All until Driftmark, they lost lady Laena. Y/n was in her early teens and she tried to be there for Baela and Rhaena. She stood by their side through their mother’s funeral. She understood the gravity of such tragedy, she lived with that grief all her life for her mother who was a stranger she never even met. But she mourned her longer than she’d known her.

Reunited with Alicent, gaining a distasteful look from Daemon. “You’ve grown so much” Alicent remarked as she pulled the girl into her embrace. Both of them looked so much different from when they last met each other. The girl had distant memory of the queen but her warmth was nicer than she had known anyone else’s. Despite the occasion alicent was brought some peace of mind seeing Y/n, she didn’t look her best but at least not the worst. She didn’t have to ask y/n to know if Daemon spoke to her, if she felt at home. She reintroduced y/n to her children, some of them y/n didn’t even remember through faces if not for name.

“She was such a small babe.” Helaena commented as she greeted the young girl. It had been years since Helaena had seen her. Aegon and Aemond just stood with disinterest, Aemond trying to mask it otherwise regardless.

After the tragedy that was which followed Laena’s death upon the nightfall of her funeral. Aemond’s eye was taken and it was a rather gruesome unfolding. A night which left a permanent distance between families. A mark which shaped Aemond for years to come.

As the years followed, dragonstone proved to be just as dreary and awfully lonely for y/n. None of her half siblings were her own or ever treated her as such, unsolicited kindness was all she would get here and there and she had accepted surviving it. Thinking of lives far away, a place where life would begin. But it was perhaps never. As King Viserys’s health worsened the queen and hand took matters into their own hands bit by bit.

The queen, declared that it is but the king’s wish for Aemond to be married with y/n, Daemon’s firstborn. Viserys was asked about it, surely, his decision was firm and wearily elated about the marriage so what does it matter who pitched the thought as long as the king agreed. Aemond was agitated. He did not want it, at all. For the ever present and abiding Aemond he had a rift with the thought of marriage to y/n. But he kept his shortcomings to himself.

Even more so mortified was y/n, she didn’t remember how exactly was her childhood at the red keep but she did recall that ever since driftmark, that family would surely not have a soft heart for her. “Father please don’t-please don’t make me do this” she pleaded Daemon.

“It is the King, my brother’s wish.” Daemon said in a disregard of her wish, surprisingly he was fine with his brother’s second hand wish too. Daemon was aware that the Hightower queen and Otto is who pulled all the strings and his brother was a bed ridden king but this was a decision in his favour as long as he could be rid of y/n.

“You cannot marry me off like this!” She exclaimed, for someone who rarely expressed thoughts to daemon. Something she learnt in all those years with being met with cold shoulder all of life, she had to fight for her life as of now. “Not to Aemond, please father please, I do not know any of them-“

“You do. You have spent most of your childhood at the hip of that Hightower queen you will be just fine.” Daemon scoffed with a bit of condescension in his voice. Indifference as he referred to Alicent.

“I do not remember them” y/n tried to reason, any wet nurse could show sympathy to a high born motherless child she did not account to be in a marriage with that sympathy at this stage in her life. “They are complete strangers, father, please I will stay wherever you ask please don’t marry me off!”

“You are of age, y/n. This is a fitting decision for you!” He exclaimed with growing irritation at this conversation, daemon never paid mind to her moreover chose not to and hence he had expected her to show nothing but compliance.

“For me or for you?” She asked with a bitter huff looking away from her father already losing hope in this conversation, she couldn’t stomach this decision without letting him know her repulsion of it. “You are so eager to wash your hands off of me as if I have ever wronged you, all my life, I’ve never asked for anything-“

“Haven’t you?!” Daemon said loudly, his rage visible in his tone “The fact that you exist is asking too much of me as it is. You are an awful reminder and a mistake. I have been subjected to duty and honour and it is only fair if you are too. It is your duty, if not to me then to the King.” With that the door was slammed as the rogue prince walked out, an ironic vision of her life.

A bitter goodbye and an uncertain life with little to no hope y/n was set for the red keep, glancing back at dragonstone for one last time. She didn’t know if she held any homely softness for that place in her heart but she presumed the life which awaited her would be more dreary than the stone.

The wedding was an intimate affair, a small ceremony but still a lot of strangers y/n had never seen. Daemon refrained from attending but it was no surprise. She was met with warmth and affection from her mother in law and her family but not her husband to be, they were all a strange set of people down here in the south from the maids to the king himself who didn’t even sit on the throne yet made decisions.

Even the most beautiful flowers would wither away at the heavy heart of the new bride of new title, the princess. She couldn’t stand her person she was becoming or moreover the mere idea of what she had to be. Aemond wouldn’t even share the same bad as her, almost every night for the first week. He’d rather sleep on the sofa or some nights he’d just never return from wherever he wandered off to.

Barely getting the grasp of it, small domestic solaces just everytime she was with Halena and her mother in law, tending to her niece and nephew. The only time she felt less alone but she was familiar with the loneliness, that wasn’t the problem. It was the nerve wrecking confusion and uncertainty that followed after, eating her alive every night that she would lay. Within strangers now, she felt a stranger to herself too.

Days passed, circumstances arose: the king fell. Aegon was declared the king, a restless unease of an upcoming war. The hand’s very first decision was passing daemon’s seat on the council to y/n. “What?” She asked wide eyed as the hand and queen pitched it to her. “Why, me? I’m not even that learned…” she trailed off.

“You spend most of your time in the library, you happen to have a knack for reading. I’m assuming you can write too?” Otto questioned, if more number of people on the council were his own to mould and speak for the rule would be so much easier.

“Yes but just letters and scrolls..” she trailed off with a sigh, it was rather strange they would approach her for something as important as the council in the first place.

“We need sharp mind of a soft heart on the council.” Alicent said as she caressed her daughter in law’s cheek, with a smile to put some confidence in her. Despite her father’s motives of having y/n on the council, Alicent believed y/n would prove to be rather fruitful and genuine.

“It is also your birthright, through your father’s seat on King Viserys’s council. It is only right if you were to be a part of it.” Otto added in an encouraging manner. The pieces were being set already, as the blacks were processing their own steps.

They had Aemond set to go meet lord Dorros the very next morrow, with a bribe of the crown’s coin and loyalty. The forces set, Aegon’s coronation done. Just one last afternoon council left. Aegon, riding the high of his coronation wasn’t present in this one.

Everyone took their respective seats, it was an eventful morning’s slow afternoon. The coronation was as eventful as it was unpleasant with the beast beneath the boards. Sending out scrolls to other lords, the council discussed it. Y/n didn’t say anything, just listening. Writing out the needed scrolls, Alicent quietly remarked her beautiful hand at the words.

The door slammed open as Aemond entered, he was enraged at his wife’s seat on the council. “Aemond.” Alicent said as the room stiffened.

“What is this?” He asked with as his brows furrowed, he felt very wronged and partially frustrated that his lady wife had a seat on the council above him.

“It’s a meeting.” Otto declared as he looked back from the board back to Aemond, “Not yet done, what is your business here?”

“What is she doing here?” Aemond inquired as he leant over a chair, more belonging in this room than anyone else. Especially his wife, he thought to himself the other members with an awkward look on their face.

“She has a seat extended on the king’s council after her own father, daemon.” Otto filled him in on the subject, visibly disinterested.

“Daemon’s claim on the council died with my father’s death. She holds no such extension.” Aemond reasoned calmly, very much opposed to the irritation rising inside him.

“I’m still a hand to the king aren’t I? Your mother is on the council. Lord Tyland-“ Otto replied back but was interrupted by Aemond midway before he made his point.

“None of them sworn against Aegon. Daemon has called for the pretender hence his seat on this council holds no significance.” Aemond scoffed looking down at his wife who sat, scrolls lay in front of her and a pen in her hand. She felt overwhelmed with such necessary distaste, the hand to the king and queen mother herself asked her to join the council yet Aemond had an issue. It’s not as if she were to act against the interest of the crown or make big decisions to begin with.

“She is the princess. Your lawfully wedded wife, in the eyes of the gods and all the members of this very council and more. Despite Daemon’s treachery and your incoherent jealousy she belongs here.” Otto said breaking Aemond’s mouth, he knew which nerve to exactly hit. Saying Aemond was jealous, of his lady wife’s seat in front of everyone. It was enough to send him seething back and he was right. With a huff as he stared down at y/n, he turned to his heel at left.

Everyone had their accustomed part with a potential war brewing. Aemond had to leave to meet lord borros next morning. Y/n assumed he would be calculating and supposedly busy with his task at hand yet he found time to cause a scene at the council. Y/n knew that nobody on the council saw her as a threat because they all knew of daemon’s indifference for her. The black sheep. In truth she didn’t owe her father any loyalty either so their calculations were correct, her husband however.

She planned to avoid him regardless, spending the rest of the day with the twins, Helaena talking her ear off about her fixated spider and y/n loved that too. Jaehaera was playing with y/n’s hair, adding her toys into it making improper braids. Jahaerys running in circles and hoarding his toys in y/n’s lap as she enjoyed a conversation with their mother.

Alicent walked in, for a moment just taking in the domesticity of the scene. The serenity, the girls laughing. It was rather rare before y/n to see Helaena at peace like this. She entered with a soft knock greeting everyone and she took a seat next to y/n, “Children you must retire your auntie now, it’s rather late!”

“It’s alright mother, it’s not that late.” protested, Haelena she enjoyed y/n’s company as much as the whining children, Jaehaera caged y/n in her tiny arms from her back to not let her go. However through alicent’s hesitant eyes y/n realised she must have some sort of business to discuss.

“Forgive me my loves I am growing a bit tired…but I’m not going anywhere I’d be back soon enough!” She said with a sigh as she kissed the twins goodbye, both of them a bit protestant but let her go eventually. “Good evening, Helaena.” She smiled and bid her goodbye as well and exited with her mother in law.

After they were out in the hallway, secluded of other ears Alicent proceeded “Are you alright?”

“Yes, your grace” y/n replied with a non hesitant nod, in an instant with a smile confused why would that question come up.

“Mother.” She corrected her stopping on her way to turn to face her.

“-Mother.” Y/n said with a soft smile rephrasing her title.

“After…today’s council. You have been avoiding Aemond?” She asked searching for y/n’s dreary eyes.

“No-that is not the case” y/n shook her head trying to formulate a better answer given she hadn’t asked that question to herself. Because in a sense she was avoiding Aemond. “I—“ she breathed “I am rather anxious.”

“Of what? Does he speak to you in an ill manner? Do you wish for me to talk to him?” Alicent inquired concerned for her hesitation of Aemond’s lashing out or whatever it was she was trying to avoid.

“No-no it’s not that…I just feel guilty. He wants an authority, his opinion to be heard at council level and I get that place before him, we’re not at the best terms to begin with and now he must be cross with me” Y/n explained her worry with a sigh.

“And? It is your right, y/n.” Alicent said as she took her hand into hers in an affirming way, “you must never feel guilty for claims that are solely yours.” She explained, “as of Aemond, he can be difficult sometimes, but I assure you he isn’t malevolent. He loves you.”

The Queen mother’s assurance felt it came from a place of gentle constitution and the motherly naïveté of overlooking some things but y/n was more than aware that Aemond did anything but love her. She was familiar with lack of warmth, affection, just so far from it she could almost find strange ways to dwell in it. It was an emotion she knew for so long, from her father’s house to her husband’s, bricks of her old life and no love.

But she did not tell alicent of her wearies, after all she did not worry about it she was at terms with it. But she was worried meeting Aemond, as of now, she walked the hallway to their shared bedchamber with heavy breaths. Aemond was looking out the giant window, he had a journey to make the next morning to the baratheons yet he wasn’t resting or preparing. Much to y/n’s demise she hoped he’d be off somewhere else. She closed the door behind her as she entered, Aemond never talked to her generally. She never spoke unless spoken to but today silence weighed heavy between the two of them.

“The meeting ran late did it?” Aemond asked without looking back at her, he could tell from the soft stride who entered their chambers.

“No, I was with Helaena…” She trailed off growing strangely anxious because she felt answerable to him. As if it would compensate him and that was her burden to bear. “The meeting was rather trivial”

“Was it now?” He scoffed in a bigger way and turned to face her, “You must have provided the trivial meeting with your other worldly wit and understanding of warfare.”

“Aemond” she said taking in a sharp breath, meaning to tread carefully “I know you are upset. Believe me I did not know beforehand of the planning nor was it offered to me, the hand-queen mother they deemed it as my duty and right and I did not have other choice otherwise I would’ve asked you…”

“Asked me what?” Aemond interrogated crossing his arms as he leant against the stone pillar, her feigning nonchalance and false sympathy irritated him to no end.

“To take my place” she answered. She meant it in a genuine sense because she did not hold the same passion or want for a seat on the King’s council the way Aemond did. It was far from her. “I’d rather you take my place, I have no wish for authority on the council. I could ask the hand to-“

“You truly are the imbecile I presumed you to be.” He said assertively as he stiffened, his shoulders tight. “Are you that naive? Do you think I would need your help to put myself on the council? Yours?” He said as he huffed, berating her was his intention. Y/n remained silent, unmoving in her place no matter however she tried and help him or soften the rift in their marriage he was always imbecile from it. In the meantime he walked a bit closer to her, towering over her given his taller stature he leant forward by a bit to make himself appear intimidating.

“My apologies then.” She muttered lowering her gaze from his because she felt rather scrutinised by him as if she was at fault for something, as if she had wronged him. “Excuse me” she said before he could reply and attempted to retreat away to the adjoint bathroom. Wait out him falling asleep or leaving. The newlywed with their peculiar marriage of indifference.

-

Aemomd’s return from his errand with the Baratheon lord contained of a difficult detour nobody had anticipated. Rather difficult, to navigate such a blow through warfare. The council, y/n merely heard and spoke four sentences on an average, was shocked. No idea of action status not war treading. Circumstance heavy on everyone. Shame and disregard.

Sitting by the burning lamp, late evening, the scrolls and letters were to be written with such urgency after what happened with lucerys y/n had to take it to her own desk. Too busy with the works she barely processed the loss yet, she did not know Lucerys as a brother but an acquaintance who was rather kind to her all those years.

She barely looked up when the door opened, only when Aemond drew closer. Rather too close to her desk, he leant on the table where she was writing. Close to where she was sitting he breathed heavily. Putting the pen down and the scroll aside y/n looked up at him. “What did the king say?”

“The king?” Aemond repeated with a small laugh, he was still getting used to the new titles but referring those even behind closed doors was somewhat strange. “Aegon, he is not the most serious about it. Collateral damage he said.” Aemond repeated the words, he was never fond of the bastard himself but he never planned to take such drastic step. “Grand sire had a lot to say and mother, she is disappointed. Perhaps everyone is disappointed?” He asked emphasising ‘everyone’ referring to her. He did not know of his lady wife’s connection with the Strong boy but his own mother had a dislike for him and yet she was disappointed.

“I don’t know warfare as good as the lot of you, but” she nodded to his previous implication of being disappointed in a way, such loss must be difficult to stomach for those really close. “It is a lot…”

“Do you grieve him?” Aemond asked, his tone non threatening nor interrogative, subtly calm.

Pausing y/n thought about it for a moment, she was quick to side with the hand’s cold and calculative decisions as her mother in law suggested writing Rhaenyra letters instead, y/n herself weighed heavy on practicality as if grief was non existent. In a way it was. “I don’t know” she said puzzled “We were never close but he was kind to me, not all of them and not everytime but whenever he could be…” she trailed off. “He was easily anxious about a lot of things, scared.” Last time she had seen him it was the dinner for King Viserys upon the discussion to heir of driftmark. The scene that followed that dinner was distant in y/n’s mind until now. The same inferior fright was in Luke’s eyes that day.

Aemond did not say anything, her words made him feel guilty even more so but he would never display to anyone. He fought for his life debating to the council, to grandsire that it was an accident however not enough for him to take accountability of it as if he had done something wrong. He knew he had, but he did not show it. He could not. It did not come from a place of sympathy nor altruistic intentions but an ambush of unsolicited guilt. “Is it true?” She asked him.

“What is?” He replied as her voice pulled him out of his thought and his gaze met hers, she still sat on the desk the soft orange hue of the lantern on her face.

“You hold no regret?” She asked him referring to the conversation he had with the council when he was confronted about what happened. He did not owe his truthfulness to anyone, especially not the council.

The heavy silence between the two of them told her more than his words could, her eyes softened as he pondered his unsaid exoneration. Nobody would believe him but she might just, “I did not mean for that to happen, nor did I plan it.”

There was a crack in his demeanour, very different from how he presented himself back in front of everyone else about the the whole ordeal. Accountability seeping in and he should know, “Acting bigger than the situation won’t provide you with the atonement you are looking for.” She told him, forgetting herself when he asked for her advice and she assumed in such delicate state of mind he would rather lash out than listen but he did not. He was present, here to listen. To her? So far he had made it so very clear that he held no regard for her whatsoever.

“I am not looking for atonement.” He said more to himself than to her in a gentle tone and a hint of lostness in his expression. He longed for something, some consolation of some kind but he did not know exactly what and he felt restless with heavy emotions.

“You are.” She answered for the question he did not ask out loud, however the epiphany of it was not lost on him as he looked at her like an open wound. He did not protest her because she was right, she held the answers to herself. She could think for him despite of what he did and it unsettled him in some way because he had never felt such softness of anyone else. To know that he had done something he would have to seek atonement for and…hold regard for him still?

“Do you see me differently then?” He asked, small fright creeping him on the inside if she affirmed his answer.

“No” she replied without hesitation nor enthusiasm, she did see him less ruthless and uncaring than she had previously known him to be but she did not tell him that in this state of mind of his. However the heavy silence and the remorseful tension was too much to bear. She stood up from her chair seemingly to leave and attend some other task, just then realising he stood rather close. Before she could attempt to move away he stopped her. Holding her by her wrist he pulled her close but he was already close enough, the distance shortening this small for the first time since their wedding.

“Do you truly, not see differently?” He asked again with searching eyes. He couldn’t do with her short no however affirming as it was it wasn’t absorbing. It did not feed to his shame and guilt.

Y/n did not know how to soothe his wearies, she never thought her perception would matter to him at all. The walls within their marriage came crumbling down as he held her wrist it seemed, she wasn’t going away yet he kept a hold of her. To ground himself more than her. After staring into his eye for what seemed like an eternity she simply pulled him into her embrace, in a tight embrace. Her arms holding his broad stature the best they could, raising on her toes to bring him as close as she could.

Aemond was stunned to say, for a moment. He could not fathom she would want to tread so gently with him after what he had done he did not expect such, such softness. As he enlaced his arms around her waist, hugging her back as he raised her closer to him. His person. He had never felt such warmth and love of hands that would show soft affection even after knowing his ugly work, he was met with her comfort when he deserved retribution. It nestled his spirit in a serene place, he worried the place would vanish if he let go off her so he didn’t. He kept holding her close to him, closer of it was possible as he buried his face by the crook of her neck.

After a while she pulled away but not entirely, resting her temple against his. His soft breath on her as she sighed closing her eyes. He followed to, until he met her gaze again. His impulse wanted to touch her face to make sure she was real, that this moment was. So he did. Fixing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear he cupped her face. She did not move away, heart racing in such gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a first and he did not want her to extend her boundaries for his sake but he could not stop himself, he brushed his lips against her.

Indulging in a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands as if she was made of porcelain. It was the first time somebody had held y/n with such fragility. Such affection was very foreign to her all her life, even the kiss on their wedding day felt forced and ceremonial. But this felt real, it was. She kissed him back and held him close, standing in the light of a desk lantern, the moonlight seeping in and lovers who might just be alright.

—

—part 2.

I am sorry if this feels rushed, i skipped season 1 bc i want to do all of s2…please let me know what you think in the comments 💕

If you want to be in the taglist pls comment AND go drink water RIGHT NOW ILY SO MUCH !!!!!!!!

-

[midnightsslut]

religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.

taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.

the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.

when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.

side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?

the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.

the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.

ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.

[citrustan]

i see u are taking drabble requests!! could i very gently very nicely ask to plz have a yoongi x reader drabble? it can be angsty fluffy or smutty i just rlly miss yoongi, aaand thank u in advance!!

thanks! i will choose all three (barely-there smut bec i just need to get comfortable w it through practice)

love-daze (myg)

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: unrequited love?, friends to ?

warnings: methinks this can be considered infidelity but not really?? as for the characters, all's open to interpretation. :p unedited. this is raw raw ok.

"Should I stop?" You whisper, unwrapping your arms from around him.

After a few beats, still zoned-out, Yoongi moans in disapproval, "No, keep going, this is fine."

He adjusts you on his lap and tilts his head back.

Still unsure, you go back to placing soft kisses all over his neck. Desperate to make Yoongi happy, you put a little more energy into it as you begin to gently grind on him.

Occasional whimpers and sighs float around the cold room. While that would seem to be enough to send you over the moon, it doesn't seem to help you this time.

"Yoongi..." You tiredly sigh.

You want to make Yoongi feel good, but at this point, you know he's too distracted.

Thinking of her.

And you find that unfair. He was the one who called you after all. Because he knew you'd always be around. Only for him.

You were never shy about your feelings for Yoongi, so when you couldn't get him to reciprocate romantically, you figured you'd give it a shot anyway and offered yourself for him to use whenever he wanted, for whatever he wanted.

Yoongi was intrigued.

He seemingly never did end up needing you though.

Until now.

Two hours ago, Yoongi came over to tell you how his girlfriend had turned down his marriage proposal a few days ago.

One hour ago, you tried to talk him into giving her more space.

Thirty minutes ago, he ended up calling her anyway, which in turn made her distance herself even more, telling him to not call her again.

And now, Yoongi has you naked, on his lap, trying to make himself forget about everything--- his girlfriend, her rejection, his humiliation, their sadness... just all of it.

Yoongi wanted to hurt her, too. His own pleasure is just a bonus. He knew that if she ever caught wind of you and him, it'd destroy her.

For some reason unknown to Yoongi (and you), Sera always had been insecure about you. Not that Yoongi gave her any reason to be, even offering to seize all contact with you.

You had cried for days when you accidentally heard about it through one of your mutuals. Yet, you understood, and continued to love him silently while distancing yourself from the couple.

Yes, you loved him but you would never try to steal his happiness away or break up a relationship.

Both Sera and Yoongi noticed the lack of your presence in their lives.

During that short period, she also observed how Yoongi seemed moodier and a little more disengaged in general.

For a while, Sera thought she might've just been a masochist or something because what other reason did she have to refuse Yoongi's offer?

She felt guilty because she didn't want to be the kind of woman who stopped her faithful boyfriend from having friends. She felt guilty because she had always known about your interest in him but had decided to pursue him anyway.

She felt guilty when she saw the look on your face when she was first introduced as Yoongi's girlfriend. She remembers how defeated and sad you were. One would expect jealousy, or anger, or even hatred, but you were always cordial with her.

She felt guilty when he asked her her hand in marriage because it came out of nowhere, and she knew it was Yoongi's attempt to salvage what was left of them.

It's probably karma, she thinks. Sera felt like an intruder in your lives even though she was the girlfriend. Even though Yoongi never really looked at you in a way she would be worried about, she just... felt something.

Which is why Sera isn't surprised to see Yoongi at your place now. She saw it on your Instagram story, but it was deleted almost immediately.

She doesn't know why Yoongi never let you in, and selfishly hadn't cared.

All she could do now was watch the man she loves be with someone else. As you had done.

Yoongi finally looks you in the eye, expectantly, brows somewhat raised.

Again, you ask, "Are you really, really sure you want this?"

Yoongi sees the loving look on your face and his breath hitches. You didn't deserve this.

The long pause answered all your questions.

You don't know why you're disappointed, you had offered yourself to him. It was your choice.

Sadly, giving him a tight-lipped smile, you sigh.

Before you could speak, he tilts your head towards his own, making your foreheads touch.

You gulp, afraid of what he might say.

With a shaky voice, he rubs his thumb on your cheek, "I'm sorry." - "For what?"

"_____, you deserve to be treated with respect. And, I'm sorry I failed to."

"Yoongi... I'm not offended... I told you, I'm okay with this." You pout, confused.

"Exactly. You shouldn't be. I won't take advantage of you like this." Yoongi is stern. Mostly speaking to himself.

But you don't care, "What if I want to be taken advantage of?"

"_____..." He's breathless.

"Yoonie... I can feel you. I want to be used. I want you so bad. I always have." You resume grinding on him, "You want me so bad. I know you care about me, Yoonie."

He firmly places his hands on your waist. You expect him to grab your cute butt, but instead, he holds you in place, "_____. Not like this. We're too... vulnerable. This is new. Let's not rush into anything."

At that, you instantly snap out of your love-daze.

What did he mean by 'this'? Let's not rush into 'anything'?

Your face was expressive, making him smile a little. You then lift yourself off of him.

Yoongi's forcing himself not to ogle your tits or the string of your sticky wetness detaching from his trousers as you moved to sit next to him.

The two of you have a lot to heal through.

Yoongi stood up from your couch to retrieve your crocheted throw which he then uses to swaddle you. You stare up at him with big eyes as he wrapped the material around you, making him playfully scoff.

Yoongi kneels in front of you, "I don't know how to thank you for being there for me, _____." He has a solemn face.

Meekly, you suggest, "We can just... talk if you'd like."

Placing a hand atop your own, he softly smiles, "I'd love that, _____."

note: ok like ack-chu-ally idk what this turned into i just wanted to write like a 100 word thing about reader patiently waiting for yoongi to realise his feelings for her

But I Just Couldn't STop going on and im curious to see the response to this because I think I hate it kinda

[supershot73199]

Hello I am back with the next of my Batfam react to Danny killing Joker story's. This one is set in the same au as my Dawn's Big Daddy story though i haven't decided if it will be canon to that story yet. Story under the read more.

There will be a bit of a graphic description in this one so gore warning here

Cass was simultaneously pissed and terrified. Not for herself of course but for her ballet students. The Joker and his thugs took the entire class and their parents hostage and with so many kids Cass knew trying to fight could result in dead children and she left her emergency beacon in her office changing room.

When the thugs finished taking them to the warehouse where the Jokers latest scheme would take place she, the kids and any mothers were taken to a massive cage where they were locked in, while any fathers were taken and had been handcuffed to chains connected to electronic winches, including her boyfriend Danny.

Normally Cass wouldn't be worried about her boyfriend as he was a excellent fighter and had a ghost form that was of a comparable power level to heroes like Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and of course Superman. However with the number of hostages he would not act rashly, instead waiting for an opportunity where he can act with minimal to no risk for the innocents.

But their captor was the Joker, an unhinged clown who enjoyed the pain of others and who was unpredictable enough to stump world class detectives like her family. He would not hesitate to torture or even kill one of the kids if he had the whim cross his mind and he had pretty good reflexes so it would be hard to guarantee no hostages would be in danger before they act.

Cass felt her rage and fear bleed out when she felt a small hand grab hers for comfort. Dawn was Danny's daughter, the light of his life, the single most important thing in his life, and honestly she was quickly becoming the same thing for Cass. Even though she loved Danny and he loved her they both knew that if it came down to a choice to save only one of them they would each save Dawn first. (Hypothetically at least. Cass knew they would just save both in reality because they were good enough to or would get backup that would allow them too.)

"I'm scared." Whispered the young girl. Cass quickly scooped her up in a hug before softly comforting her.

"It's OK Your Daddy is strong he won't let this clown hurt him or us."

"I know that. Daddys the strongest there is but what if one of my friends get hurt?" Cass couldn't stop the soft grin at the faith in her father that the little girl had.

"Because he's the strongest means he won't let anyone get hurt." Cass responded with conviction. Before Dawn gave a accepting nod.

"OK I believe in Daddy."

Before Cass could say anything else the Joker ordered his men out of the room as they finished handcuffing the last of the fathers. Danny was front and center and Cass couldn't help notice the look of defiance in his eyes. The Joker as soon as the last of his men had left to their guard positions turned on a camera before stepping back and speaking with his usual cheer.

"Hello Gotham, it's your favorite Clown Prince of Crime here and today I have some special guests with us today. You might recognize a few of them. Why it's none other the Bruce Wayne's only daughter and her pretty little boytoy!! They've been all over the news recently and in case you've been living under a rock recently they have been called Gothams cutest couple. So you just know I had to give them my congratulations."

As the Joker was monologing he picked up the camera and used it to focus on Danny and Cass respectively though Cass had put herself between Joker and Dawn, which gave the clown a sick pleasure, she could see it in his posture.

"Now as for our performance tonight we have a group of loving fathers and their beloved children and wives in our audience. Batsy here's what's going to happen, you and your brood are going to have to find my men hidden all around Gotham with cannisters of my Laughing Gas. When you find them my men will let me know and you will have sixty seconds to defeat my men and disable the release trigger, if you fail well..."

As the Joker trailed off he pressed a button that activated the winches pulling the men until they were all hanging off the floor without their feet touching the ground.

"I will kill one of these fathers infront of their wives and children, and don't even think about cheating because if my guys see you on this camera before their bombs been disabled they will trigger it remotely. Better hurry Batman I don't think shoulders can hold that much weight for very long!" The Joker let out a mad cackle before he was interrupted.

"So now your a gameshow host? I thought you were the clown prince of crime." Danny brave beautiful Danny taunted the Joker who stopped and walked closer.

"Well I'm a Clown of many talents and in my eternal quest to bring more smiles to Gotham I have to branch out from typical clown behavior." Cass could see the irritation in the Jokers body language, he hates being questioned after all.

"Still couldn't you have picked a different suit? You always wear the same thing. Variety is the spice of life after all." Danny continued to antagonize Joker.

The Joker stepped closer to Danny still not quite close enough for Danny's plan though.

"As if your one to talk. Look at you!" Cass wasn't sure what Joker meant by that as Danny was dressed in form fitting exercise clothes meant for dancing, as they had been about to have a class when the Joker showed up. Maybe he's jealous of Danny's muscles?

"I was kidnapped with no warning from a dance class, you had the benefit of planning this and having time to prepare. Admit it you just got lazy and didn't want to put in the effort to look good for your scheme." Danny once again acted to antagonize the clown. Who finally stepped right up to where Danny was hanging while ranting at him.

"How dare you claim I didn't put in the effort! My look is iconic and if you can't see greatness maybe I should use your daughter as an exam-urgk." The Joker was cut off and Danny swung his legs up to wrap them around the Jokers neck. Unfortunately the Jokers reflexes kicked in causing him to start ducking leaving Danny to have his thighs around the Jokers head rather than his neck. Thankfully the sudden jerk from Danny hitting the Joker caused him to drop the gun he had been pulling out of his coat.

Cass watched as the two struggled in a stalemate, Danny couldn't shift his legs enough to get them around the Jokers neck to choke him into unconsciousness and the Joker was unable to get free from Danny's vice like leg lock. Cass realized that unless her family showed up immediately then the Joker would eventually slip free and go after Dawn.

As she realized what had to happen Cass noticed as Danny's body language showed he came to the same conclusion. The couple shared a look of understanding. Cass would never have considered this before and if there was any other way she wouldn't be considering it now. But even with his powers there isn't really another solution as the Joker holds a grudge.

"Turn around class face away, even you Dawn." Cass said quickly acting to make sure the children didn't see what came next, the mothers and older students quickly following her lead.

"I'm scared momma." Cass started quickly bending down to hug Dawn again. Cass didn't think she realized what she actually said and in a way it made it more special to her, which filled her heart with love and resolve.

As soon as all the younger students were facing the wall Cass nodded to Danny who immediately shifted his legs one more time before Cass saw his muscles clench. There was a muffled sound where the Jokers mouth was pressed against Danny's thigh, that Cass couldn't tell if it was a laugh or scream. She watched as he clawed at Danny desperately trying to get loose until with a sickening crack and squelch he went limp, as his head was crushed between Danny's thighs like that watermelon Cass had crushed on a dare from Steph.

She looked on with disgust as pieces of the Jokers brain and skull stuck to the man she loved. The spray from the crush had covered Danny and she could see him struggling to not throw up.

"That might have been the hottest thing I've ever seen." Cass head snapped to the teenage girl who said that. Said girl quickly grew a massive blush.

"What? We were all thinking it. I wonder how long until someone makes a gif online from that livestream."

Cass blinked in bafflement as the other girls agreed even if they felt it shouldn't be said out lound to the girl before remembering that this was being broadcast live. Which meant all of Gotham saw what just happened.

It was only a little while later when her family finally showed up that she realized that Barbara and Jason would probably be two of the people making it into a gif and she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. At least she got confirmation that the child she loved as her own daughter felt the same way about her.

[writingwenches]

Aemond x Peasant OC

synopsis: Aemond leaves the comfort of the Red Keep to trek around the backwoods Riverlands, where an annoying peasant doesn't believe he is a prince. Then they do hand stuff near a lake.

themes: brat!Aemond, spoiled!Aemond, mixed race main character, mc grew up in a westeros version of a nunnery, surprise trans side character~ this is just the start of a larger “rewrite HOTD” type story.

word count: 10k (i hate me too.)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no targcest, hand stuff, mouth stuff, mommy issues if you squint, mentions of sex work, mentions of child death and pregnancy complications. Religious nonsense.

PART TWO OUT NOW

Freedom From – Act One

Charity is the only hope for useless girls, and not enough to go around. The Maidenhouse of Haronfall was an ancient structure, run by the Faith for centuries as a place to send discarded girl-children, forging useless girls into something worthy. It was their true calling, regardless of what those girls’ wants. 

For unwanted men of the realm, there was the Night’s Watch. Some unwanted boys are sent as soon as they were old enough to lift a sword. They were raised and trained to be useful along their brothers, forged to the sole purpose of defending the realm and never to be left wanting. 

The Septas of the Faith of the Seven recruited woman of fine birth, in want of a life not owned by a husband, and those who’s families were willing to pay handsomely for a life of purpose for their unfortunately female child. Women worked and clawed and won their way into the duty of a Septa, the Faith had no use for useless girls. 

There was no place in the realm for unwanted girls. Brothels did not want them. They already had enough bastards, and young flesh did not turn enough of a profit. Girls were not wanted unless they were useful, and many unuseful girls found themselves living on the streets or dead in a ditch.

That was what would befall Lyn is she were ever to be found wanting, of something more, of something else. She was lucky to have been given her place amongst the holy woman of the Faith, even if she was not going to benefit from their handouts much longer. Lyn had been found wanting at an early age, never reaching the hidden marks required to be gifted a role as a Novice. Those girls found wanting were given hard work of servitude, waiting on the Septas that filled the halls of the Grand Motherhouse, constructed around the ancient order’s orphanage, nestled in the swamp lands of The Bite. 

The prayer before work was never ending, but no one had the heart to interrupt the young girl, hands clasped together, eyes stitched shut, conversing with the gods in earnest. Lyn tried to shake her mind from racing at the thoughts of the future, focusing on the task at hand. House Erenford was not able to keep a staff his large permanently, but they would take every chance for a few strong-backed girl servants from the Faith to tend their Keep during festivals and feasts. House Erenford honors hard workers, and knows that the serving girls’ would be in need of work away from their lands as soon as they could find it. The elderly Lord Erenford would always put in a good word with visiting households in need of additional servants. 

Lyn tried to for her back to appear straight, as she lowered herself enough to reach the basket of herbs that needed plucking. Her fellow maid, Hanna, peeled potatoes below the table and out of sight of piety. This was not the first time the group of maids had been contracted to work during a feast at House Eronford’s keep, and Lyn knew that they did not have time for endless prayers and blessings if they were to keep their schedule. Their traveling party lost many hours to traveling from the Motherhouse, where the young maids hailed. 

Lyn’s eyes remained downcast, she was raised by the Septas of the Faith of the Seven since as long as she had memory. She had learned to pray before she could do any other task, it took many years to learn how to appear to be praying, which is much more efficient. 

Her small movements had been noticed, however, by the Lady Aeditya Mallister. She had been raised on a far-off world, at a distance Lyn could not properly imagine, away from the tradition of the Faith. 

Lady Aeditya cleared her throat, trying to get someone’s attention, her empty cup dancing in her hand.

For years, Lyn assumed Aeditya was of mixed peoples, like Lyn herself, with skin of a strange middle ground between dark and light. But, after serving the lady on numerous occasions, she was assured that Lady Mallister was of impeccable birth, thought to possess ravishing beauty by her entire nation, a nation where all peoples looked like her, but obviously less beautiful. 

Lady Aeditya exhaled loudly, and no move was made to fill her empty cup while prayers were still being pledged.

Lyn agreed that Lady Aeditya was beautiful, but knew that her distant land would not welcome her for her skin alone. Their features were completely different, were Lyn was plump and sturdy, Aeditya was slim and narrow. 

“LYN!” the lady finally shouted. The prayers abruptly stopped. “My cup is empty. Where is the wine?”

“Of course, Lady Mallister,” Lyn said dutifully, flicking away the moist bits of shredded herbs from her fingers, glad that the room burst to life as work for the feast could finally begin. Behind the pillar of the wine cellar, Lyn suck a few gulps from the pitcher to warm her belly before returning to fill the lady’s empty cup. 

—

“Ugh!” Lady Aeditya huffed, as she lounged on the stone hearth, stroking her distressingly pregnant belly. “It’s too quiet in here, someone speak,” she ordered, her wine cup almost empty one again. 

“Is the duck ready for the oven?” Hanna chimed, thinking her thoughts aloud as she passed. 

“No!” Lady Aeditya stamped, “The babe grows ears! Do not speak of things I know nought about!” Her words staccatod for emphasis. “It is isolating to me, we must not encourage such things for the babe,” she said as if it were obvious. “Lord Ryver and Waltel Frey are sparring, as always, and I did not come here to be bored.”

Lady Aeditya came to Haronfall, along the edge of The Bite, all the way from Seaguard, the western most point before the Iron Islands. It was the only area of land Lyn had ever known. It was more than a week’s journey between the two settlements, and every pregnancy, Aeditya seemed to spend the majority of her time away from her lord husband.

“What would you like to speak of, Lady Mallister?” Lyn asked, sharing smiling glancing to the other girls working. She tried to get the savory herbs from beneath her fingernails, to not spoil the sweet pie filling she was mixing. 

Lady Aeditya signed again. “it is always up to me, the true burden of being a lady.” She sat up straighter and addressed the help with her eyes. The Lady Aeditya saw an unorganized gaggle of unmarried maidens, who were long old enough to bare children of their own. Poor, former infants that were abandoned by their destitute mothers at the Faith’s doorstep, now traded around as extra help for a few measly coins. Aeditya say little difference between this and woman who sell their bodies in other ways. She could never imagine sullying herself with such unfulfilling work with a true lack of purpose. She pitied them in some ways – an envied them in others. “Girls, be thankful your minds are not always at the helm of every stimulant in conversation.”

Honestly, Lyn was thankful as her brain was far away from the dank kitchens, hidden below the gathering hall. The windows were scarce and to allow only for light, rather than a beautiful view of the fertile swamplands surrounding the keep. Lyn’s mind was free to soar and wonder, watching a bale of turtles balancing on a single log as they competed for the best spot in the sun. Lyn often wished she were a simple turtle, floating along the creeks and bogs, armored against chomping lizards and long beaked birds. She was free. 

Very much unlike Lady Aeditya. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, both hands reaching for her overlarge belly. “Come hither! The babe! He kicks!” 

The room flurried with rushing girls and dropped buckets. 

Lyn did not think Lady Aeditya so bad. Lyn was present at her last birth, as Aeditya’s labors began in Haronfall, and lasted days. The boy was born asleep, the Septas said, wrapping him in cloth and not allowing the mother a single look before carting him away, leaving Lyn and the other girls to hold Aeditya close as she wailed. At the request of Lord River, Aeditya remained in Haronfall to give Lord Mallister’s temper time to subside. 

Lyn smiled as she felt the babe kick, before other girls pushed her palm away to feel for themselves. Lyn didn’t know how much she believed in the gods, but she prayed to all of them on behalf of the Lady Mallister, prayed that they would finally bless her with a single child that lives, if only to spare her from her lord husband’s much-gossiped-about wrath. 

Lyn was very thankful she was a poor maid, with no hopes and no prospects. She had seen first hand what prospects could do to a woman. 

— 

Whatever the reason for Cinda Lannister’s personal crest being a lioness fighting a diamond snake, many speculated that she was much more the snake than a lioness. Perhaps the speculation began from Cinda herself. 

“My prince,” she curtsied impeccably. “Oh, how I wish you’d allow me to call you ‘my favorite prince,’” she teased, snaking her hand around Aemond’s arm, without him offering it. 

“As I have told you since childhood, you are allowed to do no such thing,” he scoffed, wishing he could shake her arms away like he could his mother. Cinda Lannister was a high-born lady, not something that could be manhandled, so he allowed her closeness begrudgingly. “What is it you want this time, Lady Cinda?” 

The younger sister of Master of Coin, and personal possessor of the largest sapphire mine in all of Westeros, threw her head back with a laugh, allowing the tall prince a better view of her bare neck and low-lying neckline. “You are always a laugh, my prince!” she mused, “I do not want anything from you. I simply wish you tell you of a surprise gift I have found for your dear, sweet, sister, the Princess Helaena.” 

“What is it?” he asked plainly, wishing the halls of the Red Keep were shorter, or any other reason for this conversation to end. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!” she jested back, “no, I will not tell you what it is, simply where to find it, if you would wish to help me fetch it for her.” 

Aemond offered Cinda his hand at the end of a long staircase, as any proper gentleman should, and she gracefully accepted it. “Fine,” he held his tongue in anger, “where is it?” 

“Haronfall,” she replied quickly. 

“Heronhol?” he had heard, expecting the gift to be some haunted tree spider. 

“No, my prince. That is a common miscommunication. Haronfall, along The Bite, Near The Twins, but not quite. Ruled over by Lord Eronford. It is far older than Haronhol and some say it could be the inspiration for Lord Aaron’s naming of his own Keep.”

It was not often when Aemond took more than a thought to remember the heraldry of a house. “A heron on a pink banner?”

“Correct, my prince!” Cinda used this as an opportunity to giggle. “That is correct?” Cinda asked, turning towards Aemond’s back.

Aemond had not noticed the girl following behind, a girl, barely old enough to be called a lady, clad in bright red rubies and lace. “Yes, aunt,” she replied meekly, not looking up at Aemond. The daughter of the Realm’s Lannister Master of Ships. 

“Thank you, Cordelia,” Cinda said. 

Aemond had been offered the young Lady Cordelia on numerous occasions since her birth. The second-born prince had no interest in playing nursemaid to a child, or bedding one. 

“Haronfall is where I shall be traveling to, unfortunately I shall be missing the King’s nameday festivities, but as you know, your sweet sister’s own nameday is so soon after, that she rarely receives much fanfare.” Cinda said. 

“And with all of the troubles she has had of late with those nasty girls from the Stormlands. I simply shudder to think of the vile insults thrown her way.”  

—

In the past, Helaena’s ladies forced her around the keep, the princess’s feet dragging paces behind the ladies’ closely fortified wall of linked arms. They had all hailed from the Stormlands, a great honor bestowed by the crown. Jena Estermount, the eldest daughter to the second richest house in the region who openly mocked the gods, Arianna Tarth, a half-dornish girl, and Corenna Storm, a noble bastard of House Baratheon.

As they wafted through the walls of the Keep, Aemond thought it plain to see that the princess’s ladies were not interested in the princess at all. Helaena did not seem at all bothered when the Queen dismissed the group of catty ladies from court after she discovered them mocking the princess behind her back. Queen Alicent distrusted each girl for their own glaring flaw, and only had the prejudices enforced through the girls’ actions.

In reality, Helaena had not minded the names they called her. Some of the names were quite clever. One of the girls, the bastard, had called her “Batty.” Helaena had never given much thoughts to bats before that name, and since has discovered she finds them quite fascinating.

—

Cinda had always seemed to have the Queen’s interest at heart. Aemond figured Cinda was a child when his mother was married, basically offered as a gift from the Lannister family. Cinda was a Lady in her own right, the rightful daughter to the Lord Paramount of the West, and had the authority born from her great house, to assist the queen with any ladyly matters that concerned women. 

Aemond wasn’t sure what ladies did all day, but he supposed planning gifts for a princess was a worthy endeavor. 

Aemond had only known Cinda to honor his mother in whatever way necessary. He liked the way she made people squirm. 

“Careful, Lord Larys,” she quipped once, while his mother and the clubbed foot whispered in the corner. “If you aren’t careful, I shall marry you. And I shall keep my husband on a much shorter leash.” 

Cinda was young enough to be a proper match to marry Prince Aemond, but old enough to lack many more fruitful child baring years. It would basically be admitting to the realm of his care for the woman, which he had none, no matter how many times he returned to her bed to lay his head upon her chest. It meant nothing, he told himself, even as the tears stung the corners of his eyes as he burrowed himself into her. 

Cinda was just a teen, helping the Queen Mother after Aemond’s incident on Driftmark, letting the small boy lay on her chest as he was sick on milk of the poppy. 

His mother was there, asleep on the chair near his bedside, but she could not bare to touch him. The last time she cradled his face, the night it happened, she erupted with rage and she was horrified, afraid she would lash out at the boy with her anger like she had attacked her once best friend. 

It was Aemond that snuck into Cinda’s chambers a few moons past when they stopped sleeping in his own chambers. It was the first time he had seen a lady without a corset, when he climbed into her bed, teary eyed and pouting about the pain his family was tired of hearing. She let the pitiful boy sleep on her chest, Aemond thought her was much more comfortable without her corset. 

Cinda had never changed the way she looked at him. He had always been the poor, second son that she loved to dote upon. Even after gaining Vhagar and losing his eye, she never faltered in her incessant mothering of him, always to his annoyance. 

The winter following his lost eye, Cinda had made sure to strap him into his winter coat personally, buttons, belts and all. So many, the young boy would grow too impatient every time he attempted to shrug it off. 

Aemond would threaten to feed Cinda to his new dragon at her every annoyance, and every time she would hug him close, and before long he was tall enough to get a face-full of her ample chest. 

It had become a game for him, without him realizing what he had been up to, with his newly formed fascination with women’s breasts. 

Cinda was the first to notice his little scheme, calling him out in their quiet place, “I thought you my favorite prince for being so different from your elder brother, His Grace. I can’t have you being a leacher as well.” Her thumb as passed over his lips as she caressed his cheek and he felt every inch of skin set aflame. 

He legs stormed him out of her room and down two corridors before he was able to hear the world again. The blush did not leave his flesh for weeks, as every time the young boy caught a glimpse of a red dress, he was reminded of her alluring words. 

Aemond had been panicked for so long that Aegon noticed. When Aegon approached Cinda about the incident, she licked her thumb to wipe away from dirt on Prince Aegon’s nose. He lost interest quickly, not enjoying her mothering the way others did. 

His grandsire had even requested to speak with him about something important. Aemond was enameled by the strategic maps and sums that scattered the office of Hand to the King. 

It was a meeting, much worst than he could have ever feared. Otto thought it had been time that the young prince he spoken to about urges. Aemond thought about jumping from the Hand’s Tower, surely death was better than this. 

“I don’t…” Aemond was cut off, Otto was not going to let him get out of this one. 

A large, ancient tome was presented to the young prince. Aemond closed the book as quickly as he opened it, after seeing the crude drawings of nude bodies. “I don’t want this,” he said, pushing it back to his grandsire, not making eye contact. 

“Think of it as an early nameday gift,” Otto patted him on the head, not allowing Aemond to leave without the book. 

The young prince held the tone like it was covered in acid, not wanting it to suddenly burst into flames. That was until he noticed Aegon a floor below, and Aemond hid the book under his shift, tucked into his breeches to unsuspiciously walk past his elder brother and little cousins. 

It obviously did not work. 

It never worked. 

He stopped seeing Cinda unnecessarily after that, only allowing a passing conversation at a mutual dinner or ball. It wasn’t something he needed, he reminded himself, with his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the Harvest Ball in the Red Keep. The festivities were distracting his brother and his club of suitors from The Reach, all who took great pleasure in Aemond’s discomfort. If the Reach Ladies ever found out about his secret nighttime travels to Cinda’s chambers to be swaddled with a babe…the only option would be to sacrifice himself to the Old Valyrian gods by Vhagar’s dragon fire. 

Even as a man grown, Aemond could still picture the sting of Lady Ivyanne Tyrell’s voice in his imagined scenario that he allowed to play on loop every night. 

“By the gods, One-Eye, do you love Cinda Lannister?” He could feel their laughter, even without it ever happening. 

Not that he had thought about the exact scene in his loneliest hours of sleep, Cinda was never at a lack of quips and womanly come-backs. Lady Cinda Lannister was not afraid to call out Ivyanne for the sapphic invert she truly was. “Have fun with your Game of Flats, I’m sure Prince Aegon enjoys watching.” 

Not that Aemond ever imagines such things, especially right after he had just finished his imagining. It was always the last time, every single time. 

Lady Cinda Lannister bathed in the morning, before the sun is fully risen, beginning her day before some of the Keep’s servants. Aemond knew that much about her routine, after being gently woken and forced to trek back to his own chambers before the castle was awake. 

The early morning after his thirteen nameday festivities Aegon had talked him into, Aemond found himself in Cinda’s chambers once again. She did not have to ask, his tears could not be controlled. 

Cinda had derived a way to lock the doors from the inside, she was never one to to be caught off guard. 

They both bathed in their shifts. Aemond cried into her neck as she washed his hair and sponged his face. She distracted him with Lannister family histories, courtly gossip she had overheard, talk about her excitement for his sister princess’s new ladies-in-waiting arriving from the Stormlands soon.

They couldn’t stay there forever, as Aemond would have wished. The dream between sleep and awake evaporated together into the cloud of his memory. Aemond could not remember if he asked Cinda to marry him that night, or if it was only a fleeting dream. Regardless, there was a sweet declaration of her painless rejection. Aemond had not minded. 

— 

“I hope you are daydreaming of me, my little prince,” Cinda laughed, grazing his cheek with her fingernail. 

The waking nightmare had been so real that Aemond started back to attention, tripping young Cordelia, who was following him too closely.

“You will be gone for weeks,” Aemond continued forward, leaving the young Cordelia to pick herself up from the floor. 

“I hope you do not miss me too fiercely while I away,” she shined. 

“I never do,” Aemond blanched as she pressed her lips to his cheek. 

— 

Aemond could not withstand another moment of his father’s sixtieth nameday celebration, and took to the skies before the great hunt had finished. He had been given his heading of The Bite, and he had studied the wastelands of the kingdoms in his youth for this very reason. He had no need for a map. 

Vhagar circled the estuaries trickling out of The Bite, the bitter air of the cold swamp fluttered upwards, the smell of fresh death, and decay played inside him. Only a place like this could grow the strange bog creature his sister was surely going to cherish from Lady Cinda. 

The settlement had been easy enough to find, after a few hours of searching the shores. Vhagar’s legs sank into the muck as she landed, the elderly she-dragon grunted with every movement, refusing to lean on her wings for support. She took two additional landings for Aemond to calm her enough to dismount.

Before his dragon had disappeared from view, tall, squawking birds had found perch upon her wide back. Aemond was sure her dragon fire would not find purchase amongst the brush and trees, the place was too dank to be set ablaze. 

By the time he reached the settlement, Aemond had cursed every rock and root he had passed for the past few miles. He wished Vhagar had roasted the entire countryside rather than spend another moment knee deep in cold muck. 

— 

“Ryver has gone mad yet again,” Lady Aeditya’s slurred down the stairs, she risked tumbling for a change at her favorite exaggerated eye roll, marking her judgement on others. “He thinks there is a Targaryen prince at his door.” 

The work in the room stopped at once. 

“…another one?” Hanna asked, her hands almost burning on the pan she paused handling. 

“It seems so,” Aeditya shook her cup until it was filled. 

“This shall be the fourth ‘prince’ to show at up his door, correct?” Lyn asked, she could not hide a smile stretching over her lips. 

“When his Lord father is away, Ryver will open the Keep to anyone with silver hair and a claimed title.” 

“What do you think this one will be like?” Hanna asked, “handsome for once?” 

They all had a laugh at that. 

“This one is different,” Aeditya answered, “Or so Ryver claims. This one…has lost an eye.” The lady stretched out her iris as she drained her cup. 

Lyn did not understand the gesture. 

“The prince,” a quiet maid said, “one of the prince’s is missing an eye. They call him ‘One-Eyed!’” 

There was mumbling amongst the ladies, Lyn even joined in. 

Aeditya could not help but be correct in all things, “Girls! Do not be such gullible lambs! Are we really to believe there is only a single silver man in the entire world and he lives at the king’s palace?” 

The new mumbling confirmed that the Lady had a point, as she usually did. Lyn was glad that her worldly education was being put to good use somehow. “Girls these days–” Aeditya said, ignoring their clearly overlapping ages, “–are so quick to believe whatever best suits them. Back when I was a maid, girls were instructed on forming more than the quickest of opinions.” Her hands were at her belly, wishing her wisdom above all for her future son. Wisdom and breath. 

“And besides, I’m sure he would have been born without the eye. Marrying one’s brother dilutes health, it is a simple matter of nature. And besides,” Aeditya looked over the gathered foods. “How would a young princeling lose an eye to begin with? They own the strongest guards on the continent” 

“Perhaps it could have been an accident?” Hanna asked, seeing it as a reasonable offer. 

“No.” Aeditya put down her goblet. “I saw the creature’s face, that scar was no accident.”

— 

Lyn did not want to admit to herself that she wanted a peak at the potential prince herself. If only for the chance to see a nasty scar. Lyn wasn’t one for violence, but she did think the human body a fascinating thing. She sometimes forgot about the prominent marks that scar her own face, a thing that some Septas preach as a consequence for a mother’s sinful life. She was only reminded by her betters. When a traveling Septon instructs her to stand as an example for his sermons on the ill-effects of sin on the body. Lyn did not mind the occasional Maester passing through their congregation asking to examine her. She had been assured that there was nothing malicious about the marks on her face. 

Lyn likened her marks as her calling card, she was an easy face to remember a few summers past, it was what helped her gain her odd-jobs, helping rebuilt fences and carrying stone for ailing paupers. Most in the Realm would scoff at the offer of manual labors from a woman, but those in need are much kinder. They they are not always grateful, it is not because of her sex but because no one wants to turn beggar. Though, accepting help from the Faith was always easier on an ailing conscience. 

For as long as Lyn could remember she had been amongst the statues of the Seven Gods, and the Septas of the faith. She had learned to clean herself by them, she learned discipline by their rods, she learned how to be of use to the world.

Lyn was grateful for her life amongst the Septas, but was glad to be away whenever possible. Lyn thanked the gods that they only appear in Haronfall for the markets, and only require novices to accompany her during work in the Erenford’s Keep.

Lyn surmised most of the Septas had not imagined ending up in such a cold, dank place in the middle of the Kingsroad. The western shores of The Bite was unforgiving terrain, a swamp of brackish, mud-colored water that every structure eventually sinks into. The Reverend Mother often reminded the girls of her life in the southern Reach, of the endless summer days and sweet smelling grass. The wet, grey skies where the North, Riverlands and Vale meet leaves much to be desired for a southerner. 

Lyn was not meant for a life as a Septa, as was foretold since her youth. The maesters and Septons tested the young girls as they came into the charge of the Faith and Lyn, and the other girls of the Maidenhouse, left them unimpressed. She had not shown intelligence, or gifts for art, or sums, or memorizing prayers. So, she was ranked amongst the useless girls who needed to be molded into something more.

Lyn knew of the dangers of a beautiful face, the Septas told them every tale that could exist of beautiful girls being dragged away and savaged by men of all ages and sizes. It was horrifying. Lyn was glad that no man would ever want to drag her away or trap her in a tower. Lyn did not mind being disgusting and ugly because of the marks on her face. 

Besides, girls did not care about such things as ugly, they cared about her all the same. So, she was glad the world was not ruled by women, just like the Septas they would force a use for her in their world, no matter what she looked like. 

“You can really give it to him, my Prince!” The eldest child of the current Lord Erenford called. “We Riverman can handle our own!” Lord Ryver shouted, as he hurled his sword into the guarding shield of his companion Waltel Frey. 

The two young men began fighting in earnest, as a third party looked on. The Supposed Prince. Lyn assumed.

A small boy ran into the fray, wooden sword blazing and iron helmet blocking his line of sight, requiring a few strikes to properly attack his opponent’s buttocks. 

“Yes Robyn! Attack!” Ryver shouted, “Go for the legs!” the small boy wrapped himself around the Frey’s knees as the clang of realm swords sounded until Waltel Frey yielded, which was traditionally followed by a rant of Red Ryver from the Erenford boys.

“Oy!” Waltel called from his chosen place to end his tragic death rattles for the amusement of Little Lord Robyn. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite grayscale woman!” Robyn leaned against the fence encircling the training yard. 

“Have you ever seen greyscale?” Lyn asked, her tone trying to convey that this was not her favorite greeting. 

“Obviously not,” Robyn answered, he might have been known as the Red Ryver, but he didn’t have a death wish.

“It does not look like this,” Lyn pointed to her face, “I know this because Maesters have shown me their drawings.” 

“Do you speak to Maesters often?” It was the turn of the Supposed Prince to speak now. 

Lyn regarded him, with her eyes. “Charmed,” she stated, echoing the word of Lady Aeditya to denote that she was less than pleased.

 “Lyn lives at the Motherhouse!” Little Lord Robyn added, firing an arrow into the fencepost Lyn was standing in front of, thankfully his ever present helmet did not effect his view, this time.  

“The Maidenhouse?” Waltel questioned.

“Maidenfort!” Ryver echoed his common words for the Faiths Cloisters. 

“We get plenty of Maesters there, if it please you,” she stated, bowing slightly in the presence of Supposed royalty.

“Are you a Septa?” Aemond regarded her this time. She had a ruddy face covered in mess and sweat, brought upon by the brisk pace of a servant’s life. Her hair was braided down slick to her head, it was either flecked with blonde or dirt. What Aemond first guessed was mud on her face turned out to be her, freckles could not contain the black stains that blotched her cheeks. “You are dressed like a child servant.”

Lyn’s skirts were inches shorter than the noble ladies and their proper servants, “It’s easier to walk,” Lyn stated the obvious. She did not need yards of extra fabric mucking about her purpose in life. “And I am no Septa,” Lyn clarified, though not wanting to explain her life any further to this imposter.

“So…it seems the Prince of the Realm has come to Haronfall.” Just as Aeditya had many times before, Lyn brought the conversation to the group. Ryver had wasted no time to clasp his hands upon the Supposed Prince’s shoulders. He did not seem to like that. “That is exciting. What brings you here Ser–Prince?” Lyn had never thought how to address a royal before.

The Prince scowled, “I am here to fetch a gift for my sister,” he answered plainly. 

“I make baskets!” Lyn could not help but exclaim proudly. The Septas had instructed her to always he in search of work, then one would never be wanting for it. “If your sister is in need of a gift.” 

The Haronfall boys were dutifully thrilled at the suggestion. 

“–no,” the Supposed Prince chuckled the word with an arrogance Lyn had not experienced in a man of his young years. 

“Alright!” Lyn did not need to defend the usefulness of a basket very often, and her blood was beginning the boil.

“You make baskets?” he mused in her direction, not lowing himself to speaking directly at her.

“I do. I make them all m’self, I do. I harvest the grass, I dry them, I weave them, without help from no one,” the words bubbled from Lyn’s mouth. “Unlike the looks of you, who could nought tie his breeches alone.” 

Aemond did not like when she pointed to his breeches, or their ties, or the general area in which they reside, in some field, in the damned Riverlands. It was unseeingly! Prince Aemond Targaryen was a god amongst men, the rider of the largest dragon in the world and he would not have his manhood regarded by some peasant. 

“I am a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms–”

“More like six,” Lyn said loudly enough for Ryver and Waltel to stifle a laugh. Ryver’s only respite was promising to explain the jest to little Robyn at a later time. 

Lyn pointed at his breeches straps again, just to watch his face twist in annoyance. 

“I could have you whipped for saying that,” Aemond spat, nearly disrupting the wooden fence separating him from the swampland creature that dared to grace his–

“If you were the real prince–“

Aemond’s mind echoed the if, convulsed his annoyed face into confusion. 

“If!” Lyn repeat to overpower the groans from Lord Ryver, who had thought the group was at a place far past this. He had only been wrong three times before. That did not denote a pattern. Yet. 

Lyn looked the supposed prince in the eyes, a gaze devoid of any reverence or interest. “If you were the real prince, you could have me whipped no matter what I say,” she regarded the man no further. “If it please you, I have a job to return to.” 

Aemond’s hand was on his dagger, he had every right in the whole of the realm, on any continent on this earth to carve a hand from the woman’s body and feed it to Vhagar on his return to the Crownlands. 

“But! He had one eye!” Ryver called after the disappearing peasant. 

A shiver dripped down Aemond back like a bead of sweat on a hot day, his body defensively braced himself for a jest at his own expense. 

“Everyone here seems to think,” Lyn turned and shouted across the lawn, “that the prince was born with only one eye! So, perhaps, have your tale at the ready for your…situation,” Lyn mimed his injury with her giddy hands. 

She was too far away for a sword, but Aemond was sure he could hit her if he pried the bow from the little boy Lord’s hands. 

In reality, Aemond was greeted by the stare of Haronfall boys who seemed to think the peasant woman had a point to make. 

Aemond could feel Vhagar rushing through him, she was far from this place, instantly disliking the frigid swamp mess. The easiest option would be to cart the nonbelievers to his dragon, but he knew he would be too tempted to order Vhagar to feast upon them before taking to the skies to burn the village to the ground. 

It seemed that the truth was taken as fact relatively quickly, with little questioning. Both Lord Ryver Erenford and Ser Waltel Frey seemed to ponder a vague memory of their fathers reading a message over dinner, some years ago, regarding the tale.  

It seemed that the lowborn, lord, peasant men and the helmet clad child believed him long enough for supper and a bed, though he was growling unsure he even wanted that.

— 

Prince Aemond had never been to such a disorderly affair, seated as one of many at a large cypress table that curved around the hall. The food was served in no rememberable order, plates of meats and desserts lingered together on the table. 

Lord Ryver regaled his guests with the grand tale, depicted on the keep’s newest addition to the tapestry gallery. In the threads it told the story of renowned warrior, The Red Ryver, and House Erenford’s defeat of some Rivermen, somewhere. Even Ryver’s younger brother, little Lord Robyn, was featured, wearing the iron he has refused to remove for the past six moons and his miniature bow. 

Aemond watched as the help gathered around the table, listening to Ryver climb upon the hall’s table to reenact memorable battle moments.

The servants were dressed in an array of clothing clothes and fabrics, as if the group had been bandied together for this night alone. Most of the maids wore a grey dress fit for a child, the length only reaching to their mid-calf. Aemond had a mind to walk back to Vhagar and never leave the comfort of King’s Landing again, Cinda could fetch her own surprise. 

Aemond did not make himself sick from wine and exotic liquors often, but this was a specific situation he wished to forget his memories as he went about making them. 

—

There was dancing after the meal, and the maids joined in on that as well, acting as if they were High Born ladies, dancing with visiting lords and 

Lyn stepped out of the overly warm keep, to get a deep breath of the fresh night air. It smelled of rotting plants and decaying leaves, like the smell of new life sprouting from under every stone. She noticed that she was not alone. 

“I see we both needed time away,” she said to the figure, clad in leathers like he was ready to ride away given the slightest reason. 

The prince had just excused himself to be sick on the grassed levee fortifying against the encroaching swamp. 

Prince Aemond scoffed at the girl, his mouth foal with the taste of wine and sick. The peasant girl’s skirts were riding even higher on her legs from the dancing, her leggings as disappeared hours ago as the temperature of the kitchens rose and warmed the entire keep. She looked like someone begging for his coin. 

“Hello, Greyscale,” he retorted, his mind shifting to the quick insult. 

“Hello, Cripple,” Lyn barely tolerated the language from her friend and employer, this man would get no sympathy. 

Aemond did not like that. He did not like a single moment. His skin lit up in a drunken daze as if he were standing on guard for a fight. His hazy mind did not know where he had placed his weapons. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but thankfully was interrupted, for he would not have been able to swallow his sick back into his stomach in that moment.

“Listen closely, Silver-boy,” Lyn began, as Aemond gripped the hilt of an imagined dagger. 

“As I am sure you are well aware,” he started. The moon was mostly full in the sky, but the torchlight of the terrace was not enough to see his lavender eyes sway drunkenly as they attempted to focus. “Your brothers have visited here. Three times now, I’d wager.” 

“What?” That made no sense to Aemond, as his mind reeled to Cinda. Had she charged Daeron and Aegon into her mission? She would never do that to him. 

“And I think it only fair, seeing that the last Targaryen Princeling to weasel their way into these walls stole a favored sword of the Lord Erenford!” Lyn’s tale weaved itself. She was sure Haronfall had been the talk from the North to the Vale after the beating Ryver’s Lord Father gave him after that. 

“I just think,” Lyn continued, “That after the feast, you should just take your leave. Lord Erenford need not know of this feasts guest of honor.” 

“I will not be ordered about by some–“ Aemond was sick again. 

“You’ve filled your belly, just leave quietly,” Lyn laughed at his misfortune, “It was smart of you to come during the King’s nameday celebrations. The Septas told us of the King’s nameday and all of his grand plans. And I would assume…” Lyn moved closer, clasping her hands behind her back. “…That you knew Lord Ryver would be left alone and… vulnerable, with Lord Erenford traveling to the capital…where I would assume the true prince is,” Lyn enjoyed immensely being right. “–celebrating his own father’s nameday?”

Never in Aemond’s life had he needed to prove his lineage, it had been clearly written on his face and stitched into his clothing. The green of House Hightower was as thick in his veins as the blood of dragons. And yet here, he was some imposter.

And he was growing tiered of this ruse he was seeming to play. He was growing tiered and perhaps too drunk. It reminded him far too much of the time a young Aegon recruited the Reach Girls and his cousins to pretend that he had been rendered invisible for weeks on end one boring winter in their shared youth. 

“Fine!” Aemond had been many things in his life, he had been a failure, a twat, an annoyance, a disappointment, but never…no one. “Fine! I shall leave! Just stop with the ceaseless tales, of rivers and princes! My head is spinning.” He could walk to Vhagar and leave this place and no one would never know or believe that a real prince had graced their halls.

It could have been the wine, or the company, but Aemond could not prevent a laugh when regarding his current fate. 

“I’m glad that you agree,” Lyn was pleased. “I was a good plan. Little Robyn even believes he saw your dragon fly above the keep.” The deep breath of the night air carried with it something that she had only smelled somewhere in the memory, that she could not place. 

Aemond could not stand the taste of sick in his mouth and fished a forgotten fruit from his coats pockets. 

“What is that?” Lyn asked.

“What?” Aemond asked, as the woman pointed to what he was idly palming between his hands. 

“Is it something for your dragon?” she laughed.

“This?” he asked, “is an orange.” Aemond was sure he recalled his mother telling a story about it being one of his first words as a babe. 

“An orange? Like the fruit?” she asked.

“Yes, you imbecile.” 

“Well, where did it come from? Was it a gift from The Twins? Ryver has never–– it seems so–“ The wine rushed through Lyn’s system, and the beautiful smell embolden her. 

“No, I thought it for my travels,” he quipped. “I am glad of it. I was not aware the Riverlands to be such a dreadfully barren place” 

“The land is plenty fruitful here, when it wants to be,” she replied, holding out her hand. “Now, give it here, I want to try it.” 

The fantasy played through Aemond’s head that it pulled a smile onto the corners of his face. The image of himself offering her the fruit, and just as it graced her palm, he would use his entire strength to throw it into the fucking swamp. His glorious vision was interrupted by the disappointed eyes of his mother. Her furrowed brows were too vivid from much wine. Aemond groaned and handed over the mysterious fruit.

Lyn inhaled loudly, the smell like she had never experienced before. It filled her nostrils and woke up her blood. 

Aemond’s hand twitched slightly as she prepared an opened mouth bite into the skin. His hands were then crossed under his arms. 

“Is it safe to eat?” she asked, stepping forward to eye him in the dim lamplight. Aemond felt the stone wall of the terrace against his leather clad back. 

“No, it’s poison, I will gladly watch you die.” 

Her laugh sounded like a pigs snort. Her smile was quickly replaced with a scowl as her teeth peeled a thick membrane of skin into her mouth. “It’s–delicious,” she forced herself to say, open mouth chewing the bitter bite. 

“No! You fool,” he wrenched the fruit back before she could cover it in any more of her bile. “It must be peeled first.” 

Aemond was so glad of the dark night’s lack of light upon their shadowed corner of the terrace as the woman spit the bitter taste into the dirt. The Prince nearly dropped the orange in disbelief of a lady performing such a disgusting act. 

She laughed at him once again. 

“Here!” He huffed, as he had picked away the disgusting bits. His bare fingers gripped the dripping fruit as he held it out as an offering. 

The blood drained from his body and disappeared deep inside of him at the contact of her tongue on the tips of his fingers as she took the fruit from his offered hand with her mouth. Aemond had not been aware of the deep breath that had been held up inside his lungs, but they emptied as the girl’s eyes flashed in the torchlight, the color of honey passed before a flame. The prince watched the endless dance of emotions over her face as she experienced the flavors for the first time. 

“Its a mess!” The fluttered giggle that left her made him offer another piece without thinking, and she took it the same way. 

He responded somewhere between a right and a yes as he tried to memorize the coloring and ridges and valleys of her face, as if he would need it later to solve a life threatening puzzle. He wanted to lick the juice that he had watched drip down from her chin, to the place under her clothes. 

He felt things under his own clothes stir. 

“Come swim with me,”

“What?”

“Its the least you can do after eating all the food I helped prepare,” she said, beaconing him away from the terrance and into the expanse of the night. “A prince would be in want of a bath, I am sure,” she laughed, for she nor any other servant would be prepared to carry water up stairs after a feast like tonight. 

Aemond allowed himself to be led away. His hands still grasp around an imaginary dagger, at the prospect of her robbing him blind. 

“I do not plan to steal your virtue, princeling” Lyn’s words had a drunken edge in their own right. She did not often partake in wine, as it was not offered to her as it could take away from the Septas reserves. 

Aemond’s hand released the dagger that had never been there, as his eyes played their way over her body as he followed her into the moonlight. He played the scenes of her trying to overtake him and none seemed to have purchase. Unless she attacked him with a stone, but Aemond was sure his arms were longer. This had not been the first time since they met that he had imagined choking her. 

“So, where are you from?” Lyn asked, flexing her lady-like conversational skills that Aeditya spoke so highly of. Lyn allowed him some time to answer, as they maneuvered past a precarious log. 

“A Valyrian bastard,” he replied, just like his nephews. “I hail from Dragonstone. It is an isle in the mouth of Blackwater Bay. Near the capital.” He got close enough to see her face in the dark, adding on more information until he found recognition take root. 

“Could you see the palace, from your isle?” she sounded eager to be fed more.

“From my own palace?” he felt something inside of him at her gasp. 

“Did you really live in a palace?” 

Aemond could not begin to guess what she had been imagining, but he liked watching the wheels turn in her mind. “When I was a boy,” he did not want to get too far from her now. 

“What was it like? Could you simply ask for an orange and it would be fetched for you?” He nodded until she continued. “And there would just be oranges in the kitchens? And what if the kitchens run out? Would they–“

“They would be punished severely,” he added, strangely not enjoying her new gasp as much. “But–“ he had to think quickly to play her throat like an instrument. “We could never run out of oranges, they grow on the island.” She enjoyed this more, he enjoyed when she licked her fingers at the lingering taste. “Giant orange bushes, all along the ocean’s edge, too many to ever eat in all the feasts of the year.” 

She touched him with her next astonished laugh.

“And when you needed clothes they would clean it? And when you wanted a bath…would they bathe you?” her last words were a whisper, a topic proper ladies should not be speaking about.

The Septas and girls of the House of the Faith all bathed together. It was a cloister of women, no one had anything to hide. And Lyn had once heard Lord Erenford state that men should not sit in stagnant water, it unaligned the humors. 

“Yes,” Aemond whispered back. “They would bathe me every day.” 

“Would they only bathe you? Or would there be–?” 

Aemond licked his lips as he watched the moonlight dance on the dipped juice along her chin. “Would there be what?” he could barely hear himself speak over his heart beating. “What could they have done?” he played dumb, he could smell the orange on her breath. 

“They would have…” Lyn eyed his lips, his eyes far too towering above her head. She guessed that he liked being tall. Lyn could not help but laugh. “… they would have stolen your virtue!” 

“The servants did not bathe me!” He admitted, rolling his eyes at her naivety. “They were servants, they only fetched water.” 

Aemond would mow anyone down with his sword if they overlord the ‘wow’ that left his lips as the girls twirled in the moonlight. 

“We are here!” she announced, it seemed to be a river. 

“Turn around! It is too dark to see anything!” she called, her hands moving to unclasp her work clothes. 

“If it it too dark, when why must I turn around?” 

“Valyrian gentlemanly duty?”

He turned without much fuss until he heard her body splash into the water. He had been a gentleman and not looked, he had given his word. 

His eyes fell on her discarded clothes and drifted to her swimming form. He did not know the state of her, but from the pile she left behind it didn’t seem she have many options to be left wearing. 

“Now you turn around,” he ordered, as he kicked off his shoes. 

He watched her turn, not knowing when to stop himself in his state of undress. 

Aemond watched as her head turned over her shoulder. He undressed completely and wadded into the water. He had not taken a breath the entire time. The water was warmer than he expected.

They spoke about the sky, and the weather, and whatever other topics that flattered them, their distance ebbed and flowed like the tides, inching closer to one another and then pulling away. 

“Ryver is a bastard?” Aemond asked, his toes could feel the bottom of the lake if he put his mind to it. 

“No. Ryver is the first true born child of Lord and Lady Erenford,” Lyn explained. “But, little Lord Robyn is the heir because Lord Ryver was born…as Lady Ryver.” 

There was a pause in the air as Aemond let it all sink in. 

“The Lord Erenford allowed it, and all will be well as long as Robyn lives to inherit after their father dies.” 

“And if not?” Aemond asked.

“Lord Erenford’s brother does not approve of…any of it. And he is next in line after Robyn. But! Even before then, The Red Ryver wishes for a Keep all his own. ‘Feast Keep’ he calls it. A place where all and everyone are welcome. Fortified to withstand any threads from his uncle and…those would you see them all hang. Away fro the Septas…”

“Away from King’s Landing,” Aemond added, understanding her meaning, forgetting his imagined birthplace. He turned his body in the water to face her. 

His hands floating in the water to support himself, just as she did the same in the moonlight. He had washed his mouth out of the water many times over, he smelled her beautiful orange breath, assuming his own was foul. The orange juices had been long wiped away, but Aemond will imagined her lips would taste of sweetness.

He was brought back to reality when she spit a mouthful of water into his face. 

“That’s disgusting!”

“We’re in a lake,” she shrugged one arm above the waterline. 

Aemond eye was at the water’s edge when he saw the moonlight glisten off the skin on her bare shoulders. She had marks there too. He wondered where else on her body she had them. He watched her skin disappear below the water, like a beaconing ancient puzzle. 

“You’re disgusting.” Perhaps for the first time in his life, he did not mean that has an (entire) insult. 

“And you’re a liar,” she pointed out. 

Aemond enjoyed being a low-born, if only because he knew it was entirely temporary. He let out a laugh and a breath at a realization he had yet to make. 

“You’re naked with a liar,” he whispered, if he could see her bare shoulders then what else could she be wearing. 

“Well!” she laughed, “You are to, I’d say.” 

“But–“ That was entirely different.

“Because I’m a girl,” she barked back.

Aemond swam after her. 

“–a woman,” she corrected. “A lady, even!” 

“You are no lady,” he was enjoy this game that he could not tell you last time he had ever been angry. 

“How would you know?” she teased. 

“Because–” they had stoped swimming, just treading water, his toes dipped to the pebbled floor if he covered his nose. She was close enough to touch. Aemond reached his hand out and brushed her bare waist. “I’ve met ladies, and they would never be so–” 

Did she not notice his touch to not flinch away? Or did she simply not care? There was no word for this feeling. He had felt it above the clouds, away from the red keep, and now between his toes in the muck. 

“Ladylike?” she offered.

Aemond watched as her her hand breached the water, like she was trying to not frighten her prey, and rested itself atop his shoulder. 

“What are ladies like?” she repeated herself, after her second hand touched his shoulders. He had not heard her the first time. 

“They must…” he tried to remember anything else that wasn’t here, in this lake, under his moon. “Beautiful, and well-read. They should sing, and dance, be pious, but not overly-so. Painting, embroidery…drawing, even, an art is important for ladies to be accomplished with.” 

Lyn was surprised there was even more.

“She should know her histories, and geographies, and sums so she might not bleed her husband’s purse dry. And, there is just something about her,” he almost sighed, “in her manner, and walk. Her air should be build to maintain her husband’s social and political alliances.”

“All at once?” She removed her hands from his shoulders. “All the time?” Lyn could not help but laugh.

“Not all the time, but yes! All at once! Some try and many fail,” he scoffed. 

“You seem pleased with the failures of women,” she mocked, stretching herself backwards to wade towards the shallow edge. Her back arched and she felt cold air on her chest.

There was a pause in Aemond as his brain worked, a whisper brushed against his mind that reminded him of Aegon. “…What women?” he asked, closing the distance between them. 

Lyn was pleased, this time, she wrapped her arms around his neck, not close enough to touch him. She nodded her head, and he copied, she shook it and he did too. 

“Good boy.” It was as quiet as the wind. He could stand easily, and palmed her waist with a sigh. 

There was a long silence.

“…have you…?” she asked, he felt it in his chest, as if she had said it in any worldly tongue he would have known what she was asking. 

“Yes. Once. A long time ago.” The words came out, slowly, one at a time, but it was said. “My brother, took me to a brothel on my thirteen nameday. And…never again.”

“Oh,” she only said, her tone dipped in sadness at the edge of the sound.  

“Have you?” his brow furrowed, in a genuine question. He had never given much thought to the purity of lowborns.

“No,” she answers firmly. “…yes,” but she corrected. “He…It wasn’t my…” she sighed into the story, never having told it before. “Last winter,” it had been over a past year, “A friend got sick, the Septas wanted us to pray but, she a needed medicine, and there was a man…and he was very handsome…so I…got the coin…” She picked her fingers behind his back. “But at least…I did not lie to a Riverlord for a free meal?” 

“But aren’t you worried the Septas will check you?” Aemond heard her attempt to make light, but ignored it. 

“I don’t think they can tell,” she answered.

“What?”

“I grew up with girls, and some went out and…had their fun, and some were taken before getting there, and some swore to have never and…I think the Septas feel what they want to fell.”

“So you think they're lying about it all?”

“Maybe!” 

“You think everyone is lying,” he teased. 

“Perhaps, sometimes, they are!” 

He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, but she stopped him.

“Come sit on the dock with me,” she motioned, they were back where they started. Her hands gripped and pulled herself out of the water in one fluid motion, to sit atop the dock, bare as when she was submerged. 

Aemond watched the watch drip from her hair down her neck and disappear into the shadows of the night, if only he could see in the dark. He was at her knees, standing in the waist deep waters, he could rest his chin on the dock if he liked. He liked his lips and place his hands on the girl’s knees. 

“Have you ever seen a lady like this?” Lyn asked, she shoulders swayed in the sticky night air and her should feel her breasts shake as they lay on her crossed legs. 

He shook his head in answer. 

“What about this?” she asked, moving her hands with her knees and she spread her legs wide, exposing her cunt to him. 

She had something else snarky to saw, but Aemond did not hear it. The moon and the stars would not support his endeavors to drown in the sight of her. Where his hands had been idle before, he gripped her knees to pull her further spread before him. 

“What are you–?” 

He was close enough he could almost…His tongue licked up her core and she played him music with her voice. He moaned into her as his tongue explored the raised flesh where her opening met. His tongue circled whines and moans around the bundle of nerves until he kissed her clit with his lips and didn’t let go. He suckled the bud, as he had wanted to suckle hard nipples of bellowing beasts in his sick fantasies. Her hands are in his hair, Aemond would not be freed from his prize, leaving Lyn to fist his hair like reins of a saddle. Her moans were shaking her entire body.

His finger played at her entrance. “Have you ever touched yourself?” he finally relented, for his desperate question. 

“No!” she shook her body. “It’s…messy and wet and,” she could never bring herself to do it, and he did not let her finish. 

His two fingers sank in, “You are wet.” She spread her own legs now, bucking against him as he returned to lapping at her clit while he coiled his fingers in side of her. “And messy,” he pumped in and out, his free hand twisting her nipple in his hand. He had never seen it gentle, but she clasped both hands over her own mouth to scream. 

Aemond felt her clenching around him fingers as his mouth continued its attack. She bucked and tried to press her legs together, but he would not allow it. “Ahhhg!” she moaned, into the air, and slowly her quakes came to and end. 

“Stop, stop…please–” she panted, her back layer against the dock. 

Aemond did not like his lack of a view, and joined her on the platform, his own breath panting as he studied her face like a treasured map. She breathed, and her chest rose up and down, the water had dried from her skin but dripped from her hair. Aemond’s hands were firmly planted on the dock besides him, not wanting to touch something to fragile that she might run away. 

“My turn,” she finally said, sitting up and catching his lips in a kiss. He had tried kissing before, but not often, mostly in games of children who could still play innocent. His mouth opened slightly and her tongue licked at the entrance. 

He moaned into her as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. Lyn nipped at his lips lightly as she began to pump him, she could feel his skin tighten with every stroke, growing longer, and wider, filling her hand.

His mouth was useless for her kisses, she licked his tongue as his mouth hung open in pleasure. Aemond’s head found the crook of her neck and moaned into her skin. Her free hand fingered the strands of his silver locks. He was a shivering mess as he pumped his hips into her firm palm. 

“Mmm,” he moaned as her free hand found his balls, palming them with every trust of her hand. He matched her pace and trust himself with her, she breathed heavy in his ear to match the pace. 

“Lyn!” a voice called out from the darkness.

“What?” she shouted back, the loudest and sweetest sound Aemond had ever heard.

“Where are you? It is the Hour of the Owl! We must be going!” The ghost voice cursed them. 

She moaned. “I am coming! I shall be there! Away! Please!” she begged.

Aemond had lost his pace, his head was shaking, he could not do this anymore. 

“Wait,” Lyn hushed him, “Shh, shh, wait.” She was assuring, her strokes still strong as she could feel him hardening into her hand again. 

“Let me,” she moved herself to between her legs and lowered her face to his cock. Her tongue starting at his base and licked up to twirl his head around her lips. She peppered kissed down his length as her hand returned to stroke him. Her kissed reached the base and went lower, kissing and sucking in the skin of his balls as he trust himself into her hands. He did not last long, the naked girl with her mouth on his cock. He trust and whine and pumped and he could hear her laughing and sucking and breathing and he came shaking on his chest. 

They breathed together, and their breathing turned to laughter. Their discarded clothes still in the same pile it was forgotten. 

“You’re called Lyn?” he said, praying to whatever god allowed him to remember her name. “I’m called–“ she interrupted him with a finger over his mouth.

“I don’t care,” she said, kissing his cheek and disappearing into the darkness, leaving Aemond a mess of himself.

//authors note – thank you SO MUCH for reading! This is the first project Im posting that I am proud of. It is barely edited, so I will eventually work on that. But, this is the beginning of a story worked out well. Plenty of twists and turns to come! I am always here for encouraging words, fic recs, headcanons, questions, and anything else~

My work on this fic inspired THIS POST. I’m just fascinated at HBO’s lack of “courtly ladies”, especially in a family where sisters are born to marry their brothers. So, I changed that and made some angsty mean girls to make fetch happen

[beauty-4-thebeast]

To Ghoul or not to Ghoul?

We have yet to see in Fallout Season 2 whether Lucy develops feelings for the Ghoul or her first-love crush on Max evolves into true love. But there’s one thing we know for sure: by the end of Season 1 Lucy is already EVERYTHING to the Ghoul. 

Hear me out.

First, what she did to him when she saved him at the Super Duper Mart. Obviously, she proved that she stood her moral ground much more firmly than he ever thought she could, reviving his faith in all things good and kind. But there's a second layer to what she did. Her exact words were:

She gave him hope. For him her words had the implication that no matter how ugly, damaged and rotting you look, you still can be a good person. There were hints throughout the story that Cooper had come to think of his appearance as inseparable from his moral character. When he said, "Ain't much stays clean here" he was talking about how people inevitably become wretched crooks there just as much as he was talking about the physical damage the Wasteland causes.

Second, when the Ghoul saw Lucy pointing a gun at her father, I'll bet you anything he instantly grasped the situation – that Lucy had been betrayed so horribly that she was now at the point of snapping. The Ghoul shot at Hank himself, not giving Lucy enough time to decide on anything (but most likely he knew she was going to lower her gun, you can see her about to do that).

When a few minutes later he turns his back at her and hears her cock her gun, he assumes there's no one else in the room who Lucy might want to kill. She didn't have the gut to kill her father, the most important person in her life, but the Ghoul is a different story. He's been treating her with nothing but unfairness and cruelty (as she sees it), and to her he represents everything she’s grown to hate about the Wastelands.

And instead of turning around and shooting the gun off her hand (we know he can, he has just wiped off a dozen of soldiers who were keeping him at gunpoint) he just holds his breath and waits for her decision. He wants to know whether her heart, the heart he's grown to admire, is shattered beyond repair. He puts his own existence at stake (he would have died had she shot off his head, there's no doubt about that). Let me say it outloud: at that moment Lucy is more important to him than finding his family! 

It's like nothing is worth anything to him if Lucy breaks down and loses herself to hatred. 

JUST WOW!!

[portagas-chan]

Yours Forever and Ever : Part 1

Yandere Katakuri x Isekai Reader

Summary: [Y/n] is part of the Strawhat Crew. She followed Luffy and the others to retrieve Sanji. However, she was separated from her friends and was kidnapped by Big Mom's children. Luckily, she wasn't going to be killed but held as a hostage by none other than 'Charlotte Katakuri' who is considered to be the strongest sweet commander in the Big Mom Pirates.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portagas-chan/748738024063516672/yours-forever-and-ever-part-2?source=share

Nobody knew she was from another world, not even the straw hats. She never told anyone and when she first arrived here, she came up with a lie and they all believed her, even Zoro which was surprising. The straw hats accepted her and welcomed her to their crew. She felt joyful.

Anyways, that's not important. [Y/n] was in trouble. She got separated from Luffy and the others in the Seducing Forest. She would be doing okay if she encountered an opponent who was not a sweet commander. However, she would stand no chance against them if they were a sweet commander. She hoped Lady Luck would be on her side today.

[Y/n] walked and walked, she didn't know where she was going but it didn't matter. It wasn't like she could fly. There was nothing she could do. Suspicious enough, the trees shifted to form a path where she found herself outside the Seducing Forest. All the thinking was giving her a headache and she decided to be meh.

[Y/n] looked around in awe at her surroundings. The whole island was literally made up of sweets. It was even crazier seeing this in person. Suddenly, she felt her leg go numb and fell onto her knees. The last thing she saw was the triplets -Smoothie, Citron, and Cinnamon- staring down with Flampe laughing at her.

She widened her eyes in realization, 'I knew it was too good to be true. This was a trap made by Brulee.'

A harsh splash of water stung her face as she scrunched her nose and slowly opened her eyes. She looked at Flampe who had a now empty bucket of water, glaring at her, "Was that necessary?"

"You were sleeping so soundly. I thought you weren't going to wake up," Flampe retorted to which she rolled her eyes. She was tied up in a chair.

[Y/n] analyzed her surroundings. Sitting in front of her was Big Mom who stared at her with that creepy grin on her face. It was frightening to see her in person.

Then there was Katakuri and his triplets -Oven and Daifuku- looking intimidating as ever. There was Perospero licking his lollipop and Smoothie with her triplets and of course, Flampe. All attention was on her and it was not in a good way.

"[Y/n] from the StrawHats. I will admit, your captain is a brave one but to survive in the New World, bravery is not enough. Mamamama!" Big Mom laughed.

[Y/n] stayed silent. She would be lying if she said she wasn't scared at all. In fact, she was terrified. Terrified of what would happen to her. But she had faith in Luffy. Even if she was kidnapped, she knew Luffy would eventually come and save her. He would never abandon his crew member. That's just how he is.

"So, what do you think we should do with her, my children?" Big Mom asked.

"I say we kill her!" Flampe demanded.

'Bitch,' [Y/n] cursed in her mind.

"Now, now, don't be hasty. Taking her hostage can give us so much advantages in many ways," Perospero suggested.

Big Mom's expression seemed to brighten a little. It seems she likes Perospero's suggestion. "Taking her hostage? I like that! Which one of you would like to take on the job?"

Katakuri stepped up, "Mama, please allow me to deal with her. There's no way she can escape me."

"Katakuri?" Big Mom looked at him, studying his face. When she saw that he was dead serious, she laughed, "You're right! Then it's settled!"

[Y/n] didn't expect Katakuri to voluntarily choose to deal with her. She thought he wouldn't bother with this stuff. Either way, Lady Luck seems to hate her. She knew Katakuri had a soft side behind that mask of his perfect demeanor but it wasn't like she could suddenly bring out his soft side to her. If she ever saw what was under that scarf, he would be blinded by anger and accidentally kill her before he could even hear her out.

Big Mom placed cuffs on her wrists that explode if she disobeyed Katakuri. Crazy, right? She didn't even know you could give certain commands to the cuffs.

One thing she noticed about Katakuri was that he never let her out of his sight. She must always be with him but of course, she was left alone when he had something important to do but he always made sure it ended quickly. But she paid no attention to it, shooking it off as him doing his job and that it was due to the loyalty he had for his mother.

Sitting across him, she could feel the hard stare Katakuri was giving her. He always had that kind of stare whether he was doing it intentionally or unintentionally. Nevertheless, it made her feel nervous as she uncomfortably shifted in her seat.

"Why did you join the Strawhat pirates?" Katakuri started.

She looked up at him, "Are you using your observation haki thing again?"

Katakuri closed his eyes before opening it again, "I asked you a question."

"I will take that as a no," She muttered. "There's no deep meaning behind it, actually. They seemed fun and interesting, that's all."

Katakuri raised his brow, "That's all?" She nodded her head.

"Then will you join our crew under my wing if I promise to make it fun and interesting? I will make sure you stay happy too," Katakuri said.

[Y/n] was puzzled. Why would Katakuri want her to join the Big Mom pirates and be under his wing at that? She tried to think of a good reason but there simply was none. Sure, she could fight but she wasn't all that strong. She wasn't special at all. So, why?

"Why would you want me on your crew? I'm not strong," [Y/n] said.

"You don't have to be strong because I will protect you," Katakuri said and he meant it. He was not joking around. He was being serious.

To [Y/n], this was weird to see Katakuri acting like that. It was out of his character. It has just been a two days since they first met and he's acting like they have known each other for years.

[Y/n] remembered something important. "Why are you asking me that when you already know the answer?" She raised her hands to show the cuffs.

Katakuri smirked behind his scarf and [Y/n] could tell because his eyes changed a bit.

Katakuri stood up from his chair and walked towards [Y/n]. She tensed up when she saw him approached her. He sat on an empty chair beside her and dragged it closer to her.

He suddenly picked her up and placed her on his lap. His hand on her thigh slowly rubbing it while the other hugged her in place.

Don't get her wrong. She loves Katakuri but being this close to him like this and having no choice but to obey him in real life was scary. He was so huge too and it didn't make it any better.

"Katakuri?" She called out nervously.

"Are you scared?" Katakuri touched her hair, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

If she were to answer him honestly, it would be a yes and a no. He looks intimidating and scary, but she knows he's actually a cutie inside. He was getting touchy with her and she honestly doesn't know how to feel about it.

In the end, [Y/n] is unable to answer at all.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you," Katakuri reassured her. "And I promise you, no one will lay a finger on you."

[anemonelovesfiction]

13~ First Time (Interspecies Sex)

Eetu x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Eetu’s supposed hatred for humans, P! In V!, Knotting

Not Proofread

MDNI 🔞

Its been 13 days and I cant believe it 🫣 Thank you for sticking by me so far!!

Translation Station

Sevin’eve: Pretty girl

Tewng: Loincloth

Yawntu: Loved one

Nìwin: Fast; Quickly

Word Count: 1.4k

He couldn’t help but have a certain hatred aimed specifically at the humans after the death of his faithful companion: Zomey. But he had every right to be upset at the tiny demons that walked his land he even felt the nice ones, the one’s who were on their side, had no true right to be there- had none of them ever come to live in their home Zomey would be alive- even the Sarentu would walk amongst them. Yet he found himself starting to become intrigued by one of them and he hated himself for it.

_________

My lips traveled over her thighs as I planted kisses on the supple skin, my hands barely working to keep her spread, and every single one of her gasps were heard. I peer up past her mound of soft skin and see she’s taken her bottom lip between her teeth, her brows slightly furrowed, eyes coming to meet mine and I stopped the euphoric shiver threatening to tingle down my spine.

“Do you want me to stop sevin’eve?” I asked teasingly, starting to move my hands off her precious thighs, only to catch her quietly shake her head from side to side, lip still tucked under her teeth.

“I do not wish to stop either,” I mutter in Na’Vi, she was intelligent enough to understand it but never seemed to speak it herself, a small squeak leaving her lips as I attached my mouth toward her sopping cunt, groaning as soon as my tongue could taste her sweet nectar, eyes almost rolling to the back of my own head.

Had I known that humans- that this human- held a taste sweeter than the yovo fruit I would have gotten over my dislike for them and lain with her sooner, her sweet scent was infiltrating my senses and I felt dizzy in a good way.

“Oh God-“ My ears perk up at the strange words she spoke, eyes following in my ears path as I notice her tiny hands are kneading her own breasts, head thrown back onto the floor beneath us, hips starting to move on their own. I can feel my tail swishing excitedly and wrapping lightly around her ankle.

“I am your God now,” I respond quickly, mouth coming back to her mound, drinking of her nectar once more, the sweet sounds coming from her were like the songs sang to Eywa: Melodious, beautiful, and sweet.

“Eetu!” She gasps out loudly just as my tongue encircles a familiar nub- their anatomy seemed much like our own.

“Fuck-“ She mumbles as her hips mindlessly start bucking against my mouth.

I can’t help but smirk as her eyes open and her head lurches upward to make eye contact with me, a long drawn out moan coming from her lips, her tiny hands pinching her hardened nipples, my hand having a mind of it’s own as it rushes my pointer finger into her entrance.

Her squeal of surprise was adorable, her once tensed body relaxing as her head falls back onto the mossy floor beneath us, my cock growing hard after having released itself from inside me, leaking precome and staining my tewng. A second finger inserts itself in her and I can hear her groan at the slightest stretch it causes her.

“Feels so good,” she gripes as her thumbs begin to flick over her hardened buds, my patience wearing thin as my own hips subconsciously rut into the ground to feel some sort of pleasure to let me know I’m close to release, but I knew I wanted to come inside, fill her with my seed, knot her- I wanted to feel her walls massage my cock.

_________

He’d worked his way up to reaching me at the hilt with his cock and all I can say is how unbelievably stuffed I am, I’d had sex before but nothing could have compared to a Na’Vi’s size, he had a bulbous head and a lengthy shaft, all as beautiful a hue as the rest of his body, and the tip was surprisingly a mixture of dark blue leading up to a pink. But I couldn’t think of anything other than that with the intensity in eye contact he was holding with me right now.

“Your stomach, it shows me inside you,” He lets go of my waist with one hand, stroking my lower belly with one hand, bottom lip sliding back between his teeth, his canines prodding out the corner of his mouth briefly before his bottom lip slides back out.

“You are very tight,” He groans out for the fourth time, taking a second to slide out a little, the stinging sensation beginning again for me, but he slides back in and glides across a special spot inside making my walls contract around him.

“Your walls are so warm, yawntu.” He slips out almost entirely this time and slides back in almost as powerful as he did the first time and I couldn’t help but throw my head back followed by a long pleasurable moan leaving my lips.

“Eetu,” I draw out his name as I reach up for him, but it was hard to do anything when he was on his knee’s sitting upright, my hips being held at an angle just so he could fuck me properly, but I wanted to feel him, feel his warm skin dragging across my body.

His little smile lets me know he knows what I want, and graciously settles my hips down lower, the moss tickling my bottom as it leaves its little kisses on them, and he leans over, his body slightly curved due to how small I am, but I take the opportunity to reach put and place my hands around his neck, wrapping my legs around his thin waist and hear him choke on the air as his tail swishes around wildly behind him.

“I’m going to ruin you.” He growls in my ear before starting to thrust in and out at a set pace, I could tell he was holding back but I needed to feel more.

“Nìwin,” I suddenly had enough time for my brain to stop short circuiting to remember how to speak Na’Vi, even if it was just one word. But lost myself in the pleasure he was providing as he continued thrusting his hips to meet mine, one hand on my waist and the other beside my head.

Without speaking Eetu starts setting a quick pace, almost animalistic although I couldn’t bring myself to analyze if his movements were withheld or not as the snap of his hips was starting to bring an immeasurable amount of pleasure toward my core. All I can do is gasp, hold on toward his neck tighter than before, and pray to Eywa that nothing could stop this moment from continuing as wonderfully as it had been.

It wasn’t until I felt Eetu’s finger meddling with my clit that I realized I’d closed my eyes, a choked moan coming out from between my lips as I wriggle at the sensitivity I’d felt.

“You feel absolutely amazing yawntu, your velvety walls squeeze my cock very well, you are such a good girl,”

“Eetu I-“

“I feel it too,” He cuts me off and adjusts himself, my arms ripping away from his neck as he adjusts himself to sit on his knee’s, my hips returning to their previous elevated state as his hands graze my waist for a secure hold on my body before releasing an even faster pace than before, his cock burrowing into my walls and molding them into a shape only he could fill from not on.

My moans uncontrollable as he continues hitting a special spot inside me, my clit grazing on his groin as he continues to pound into me, head falling back into the moss and feeling my eyes rolling to the back of my head as my orgasm rakes through my body, a blinding white light coming through the back of my eyelids.

And suddenly I felt it.

As soon as Eetu shoved the last bits of his cock inside I could feel something bulbous shove itself inside, my uterus cramping as soon as the tip of his cock attempts to shove itself in and I groan lightly as my orgasm begins to ebb away.

“Eetu,” I pause as I attempt to feel whatever it was he had shoved inside me.

“What is that?” I asked in Na’Vi.

“That, my yawntu, is my knot.” His thumbs start to caress my waist gently, one of his hands abandoning its post on my hips as it comes up to pet my hair.

“It will go down in a few minutes, just try not to move, yes?” He stated so sweetly and all I could do was nod my head.

[sadokasochism]

I am destroyed over the whole god/worshipper dynamic and have no idea how to adequately put it into words.

I mentioned in another post that Mizi could not fathom Sua ACTUALLY dying, or comprehend what death really meant, and attributed this to her relatively comfortable and sheltered life as the pet of Shine. She was not taught to conceptualise death as a loss, and she never faced any opposition to that world view. From what we know, she might have never really known true, lasting pain or loss before the end of Round 1.

However, her reaction could also be due to her placing Sua on a pedestal as her personal god and universe. She viewed Sua as her absolute everything, and why would any faithful worshipper believe their god could be killed? Only, while Sua was everything to HER, that perception did not carry over to their captors. Mizi's love and devotion was not enough to save Sua. Forces stronger than them both took her away like she was nothing.

How must Mizi have felt, having her perception of Sua as the centre of the universe shattered that way? Coming to the violent realisation that Sua was just another human, and that humans are indeed that vulnerable and disposable? That Sua could now only exist in memories and in the visions that haunt her? That Sua is not a god, but a ghost?

Now we look at Till's perception of Mizi. Again, in an earlier post I mentioned the tragedy of Till falling for someone who did not have a reason to leave. He had a lot of blind faith in Mizi, and it could be said that he idealised her as a paragon.

It's not hard to see how he reached this point. The poor kid had not been shown a lot of kindness in his life, and so meeting someone who was genuinely good and so full of joy must have had a huge impact on him.

However, his faith is still a blind one, but in a different way to Mizi's blind faith in Sua. He is happy to endure any amount of horrible treatment and does not expect anyone to help him. He doesn't resent Mizi for being so close to their captors, for her dreams stopping at Alien Stage. He doesn't resent her after he gives up on his chance at freedom and is subjected to who knows how many more years of pain and torment at the hands of their captors (Not that Mizi is at fault, Till made his own decision that Mizi likely never even knew about).

He sees Mizi's innocence and ignorance to the cruelty of their reality as something wonderful instead of a character flaw that prevents her from saving herself or her loved ones.

Sua has the same issue, seeking comfort and bliss within Mizi's brightness instead of acknowledging the cruel reality of their world. Maybe she felt sharing her perspective with Mizi would dim Mizi's bright spirit, and so she was more than content to wait out the clock with her god.

Maybe Sua felt that meeting Mizi, loving her and being loved by her in return, was nothing short of a miracle after the life she had lived before Anakt Garden. Maybe she felt in light of that, aspiring for something like freedom or a long, long life of happiness with the person she loved the most was asking far too much. The time she got with Mizi was already a miracle, why expect or demand anything more?

If Sua was afraid of Mizi losing her brightness, no wonder she was so affected by Ivan's lecture about becoming a source of trauma for Mizi after her death.

Ivan's view of Till as his god is a bit different. He is similar in that he doesnt seem to demand his devotion be reciprocated, he just wants his god to acknowledge him as a person, as someone that is at least PART of Till's universe, if he can't be all of it.

He is also very willing to become a martyr for his god while expecting nothing in return but Till continuing to live. He acknowledges Till as vulnerable and falable in a way that Till doesn't with Mizi, and Mizi didn't with Sua. He knows damn well that while Till is the centre of HIS universe, their captors certainly do not hold Till in that same regard. He knows that love and devotion in a vacuum does not save anyone.

Which is why he was always the one to free Till, to try and escape with him, and why he pulled the stunt he did in Round 6. Ivan knew that actually making an impact in this world required personal risk and sacrifice, because their captors don't give a fuck if you're in love or if that other pet-human they're about to kill means everything to you.

Till knew this too, but his idealised version of Mizi is too perfect to be broken and beaten down by this world the same way the rest of them have been. So he's still shattered by Round 5, seeing how far Mizi has fallen and then not knowing if she's alive or dead, but knowing for sure she is far out of reach. I wonder, did he regret not running away with Ivan at that point? Did he wonder what all those years of suffering were for, if he was just going to end up losing Mizi anyway? If this world was able to break her too, no matter what he did?

Mizi is gone and changed forever, and nothing he did could stop it. His love and devotion and sacrifice wasn't enough. He failed his god.

In Round 6, Ivan is faced with the same thing. His god has lost his fighting spirit, is changed forever, and Ivan's love and devotion wasn't enough to save him. The last thing he can give is his life, and hope that will be enough. Just like Sua. But he was never Till's god, was never even part of his universe, he probably won't even leave a ghost behind. So, the choice is obvious, really.

They're all so desperate for hope and connection in this lonely, painful existence that they make a person their entire universe, and then are repeatedly crushed when they are shown again and again that their soul-consuming love for one another is seemingly meaningless in a world that views them as infinitely disposable.

[writingwithciara]

18 ~Matt Sturniolo~

summary: y/n’s family wants her home for the holidays and this year, they’re expecting her to bring a guest. she struggles to find someone who her parents will love so she settles on someone who doesn’t fit the image her parents have for her, or so she thinks

word count: 7.9k (she’s a long one)

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

notes: loosely based off the song ‘18’ by anarbor (that was the goal but it changed halfway through) also was supposed to post this around christmas but i never got around to it. also might post a part 2 for valentine’s day but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️

part 2 !

“Yes, dad. I’ll be there Saturday morning.”

“With a special friend I hope.”

“Yeah. A special friend indeed.” y/n began chewing on her fingernails. She knew her dad really wanted her to find someone and she had been trying a lot recently. But nobody she went out with fit her dads perfect image. He wanted her to find someone who was not only a gentleman but someone she could easily get along with. There was only 1 person she could think of who fit that but he’s gay so she knew that wouldn’t fool her dad.

“Okay sweetie. We’ll see you Saturday morning.” Her dad chuckled and hung up the phone. y/n dropped her phone and laid on her bed, slowly losing faith.

After a few moments, she dialed Nick’s number and waited for him to pick up the FaceTime request.

“Hey. What’s up?” he smiled at her and noticed her expression. “Everything okay?”

“Not really. I’m having a crisis that I don’t know how to handle.” She sighed and noticed his background. “Are you filming right now?”

“No. I’m just in the car waiting for Chris and Matt.” He looked out the window. “What’s your crisis?”

“I told dad this year would be the year I came home to visit and right before he hung up just now, I promised to bring a ‘special friend’ this time. The problem is, I don’t have a special friend to bring home and I don’t want to break my father’s heart. What am I going to do?”

“I can help if you want.”

“That’s lovely, Nicolas but you’re gay and even though you do fit my dad’s perfect image-“

“Aww, thank you.”

“I just can’t bring you home with me. Sorry.”

“I was suggesting that I help find someone for you.” he looked back out the window. “Oh, Matt could work.”

“No, I don’t think so. Matt is the complete opposite of what my dad wants for my future.” y/n sighed. “What about Chris?”

“Honesy, if Matt is the complete opposite of what your dad wants for you, then Chris ain’t what you’re looking for.”

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll just have to disappoint him this year.”

“How long do you have to find someone?”

“I told my dad I’d be there Saturday morning so the flight leaves Friday.”

“That gives us 3 days to find the perfect guy for you.” Nick set his phone down. “The boys are coming back and we’re going to be filming so I’m gonna have to let you go.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.” y/n went to hang up but Nick stopped her.

“Come by the house later and we can discuss this some more. I’m sure we’ll find someone.”

“Alright. See you later.” y/n hung up and looked up at her ceiling. Maybe she had to rethink her options.

Later that night, y/n found herself in the same position but this time she was on Nick’s bed. He was laying next to her as they went through a list of possible guys.

“How about Jordan?” Nick shot up and looked at his best friend.

“No way in hell. I never want to see that jerk again.”

“Okay. Um, maybe we can get Nate to do it.”

“I love Nate but he’s not exactly ideal for the occasion.” y/n picked up her phone. “We’ve gone through all the possibilities. There’s nobody good enough to bring home to my dad.”

“Maybe we need to think outside the box.”

“And what do you mean exactly?”

“Maybe you need to bring home the opposite of what your dad wants for you.”

“Then we would have to narrow that down to who’d be most willing to go and someone who I can actually stand being around for 3 days.” y/n looked through the list and none of the names stuck out. “This is hopeless.”

“Wait, hold on.” Nick put his finger to his lips for a second and then smiled. “You said earlier that Matt was the complete opposite, right?”

“Yeah.” y/n matched his smile. “And I actually enjoy spending time with him. I should ask him.”

“The worst he could say is no.” Nick opened his bedroom door and the duo ventured into the living room together. Matt looked up from his phone and smiled.

“Hey, Matt. Can I ask you for a favor?”

“That depends. Is it dangerous and/ or disgusting?”

“No, of course not.” y/n sat in the open seat next to him and took a deep breath. “I promised my dad I’d be bringing someone home for the holidays and I don’t want to disappoint him so I was wondering-“

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the one who disappoints your dad. I hate disappointing people. I’m sorry.”

“It’s totally fine.” y/n stood up and grabbed her phone. “Well, Nick. Thanks for trying to help me. This has been fun but I think I’m going to head home and start packing.”

Matt went to walk back to his bedroom but Nick stopped him and silently pleaded with is younger brother. Matt just  rolled his eyes and headed back to the living room. “Wait. I’ll go with you.”

“You will?”

“On one condition.”

“What is that?”

“If your dad finds out we’re not actually dating, you have to take all the blame.”

Thursday night rolled around and y/n found herself back in Nick’s bedroom, doing a final check to make sure she had everything she would need.

“I can’t believe you got Matt to agree to come with me.”

“It wasn’t difficult, really. All I did was give him a look.”

“And he just gave in? That’s odd.”

“Maybe he likes you.”

“No. Don’t even think about that. Gross. Not my type at all.” y/n protested.

“You don’t have to like him that way. I’m just saying it is a possibility.” Nick shrugged his shoulders and looked down at y/n. “Anyway, do you have everything?”

“Yes. And even if I didn’t, I could always grab stuff when I get there.” y/n smiled and looked at Nick’s computer. “I think I should probably get some sleep soon. I know the flight is tomorrow night but I don’t want to wake up too late.”

“Can you manage to stay up for a movie?” Nick pleaded and y/n knew she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine. Just one.”

The one movie turned into 3 and they ended up staying up all night. By the next afternoon, Matt was fully rested while y/n was moving around slowly.

“This is why you’re supposed to go to bed at a decent hour, y/n.” Matt chuckled as he handed her a cup of her favorite coffee. “I know the flight doesn’t leave until later tonight but I was thinking we go early & beat the traffic. And maybe we can rehearse our story on the plane.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s a plan that can work.” y/n took a sip of the coffee. “But how early are we talking?”

“I’m planning on leaving in about an hour.” Matt looked at his phone. “It’ll be about 2:30 then and it takes an hour to get to the airport. Flight leaves at 6. It’s about a 5 hour flight so we’d be getting there pretty late so I booked us a hotel room for the night. Of course, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my goodness. That thought was running through my head after I got off the phone with my dad but I completely forgot to do that. Thanks, Matthew.”

“No problem. I figured you’d be dealing with other stuff so I figured I could take care of this one little thing.” Matt smiled and began heading to his room. “Oh. The room has 2 beds, because I figured it would be weird for you.”

When he disappeared behind his door, Nick looked at y/n with a knowing smirk. “He’s been thinking about you. How sweet.”

“Shut up, Nicolas.” y/n turned to Chris. “I know you two like to fight a lot so please don’t kill my best friend while I’m gone.”

“I can’t guarantee anything.” Chris chuckled and threw his hands up. “But I will try my absolute best while you’re gone.”

“That’s all I ask, Christopher.” y/n smiled and went to grab her bag from Nick’s room. When she returned, Matt was packing some food into a bag. She gave him a look and he shrugged.

“Snacks for the trip because, like Nick, you like to snack a lot. Thought it’d be best to be prepared.” He set the bag down on the counter and looked at her. “This was supposed to be a surprise. Thought I would have it all done by the time you got out of the room.”

“Sorry for spoiling the wonderful surprise.”

“I’m just doing what a good boyfriend would do.” He chuckled, mostly to himself and grabbed the bag. “I’ll meet you out in the car.”

“Guess I’ll see you guys in a few days.” y/n hugged each boy quickly and headed out to the car.

The car ride was faster than they thought it would be and they arrived at the airport almost 3 hours early. When they boarded the flight, Matt did some more time calculations and estimated that they would be arriving in Miami around midnight.

So, when they landed in Miami and 11:57, Matt couldn’t help but be proud of his estimation. He smirked and y/n laughed at his excitement.

“Okay wise guy. Let’s head to the hotel so we can finish going over the story. My dad wants to meet for breakfast in the morning and he’s gonna have a lot of questions.”

Matt lead her to the rental car and held the door for her. When she got in, he took a brief moment to think about details for the story that would be believable before he got in the car and headed to the hotel.

At the hotel, y/n was relieved to actually see 2 beds and not have a cliché mix up where they’d have to share a bed. It felt weird sharing a room with Matt, though she supposed she would have to get used to it, seeing as she’d be doing it for 3 days.

“Okay, so I was thinking about the length of this ‘relationship’ and I think it’d be believable if we say it’s been 10 months.”

“Coincidentally, I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we say I asked you out for Valentine’s Day and it blossomed from there.” Matt smiled and sat on the empty bed. “How romantic should we say the date was?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say a 7. Not too romantic for a first date but just romantic enough to be believable.”

“Got it.” Matt pulled his notebook out and jotted some notes down. “Okay, what else do we need to discuss?”

“Hmm.” y/n pondered the question for a moment. “Who should we say fell in love first? That’ll definitely get my dad hooked onto the story.”

“Well in that case, we should say I fell first. We can say that when Nick introduced us over a year ago, it was instant for me but you took a while longer to warm up to the idea. Maybe we could also say that I finally won you over when you saw how much I really cared about my brothers.”

“Sounds cheesy, but I actually like it.” y/n leaned against her headboard. “So far, the story is that when we met, you were instantly in love with me. But I didn’t care much for you at first. Then, I saw how caring you could be and when you asked me out on Valentine’s Day, I said yes. And we’ve been together ever since.”

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

“What if my dad asks about your future?”

“Then I’ll say that I want to marry you, but only when the time is right. And that I want at least 2 kids so they’ll always have a lifelong best friend. Siblings are the best thing you could ever have in life.”

“Perfect answer. I’m an only child but my dad has 3 brothers and they’re super close so he’ll love that answer. He’ll probably tell you how much he feels bad about not giving me a sibling.”

“And I can just say that my brothers already treat you like family, so you get to experience all of the sibling stuff in LA. Albeit, a little late in life, but that they would do anything for you if you asked them to and that you guys also fight like real siblings sometimes.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Matthew?” y/n looked over at him and saw the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. “Are you real?” she reached across the gap to poke at him but he swatted her hand away and finished writing the notes down.

“I’m 100% real, baby.” He smirked playfully and set the notebook down on the table. “Are we all set for the story?”

“Yes. I believe so.” y/n got under the covers and looked at him one last time before turning off the lamp. “Goodnight, Matt.”

The next morning, Matt woke up first and almost forgot where he was. But then he looked at the bed next to him and saw y/n sleeping peacefully and he remembered they were in Miami. He glanced back at y/n after checking the time and noticed her stirring. When her eyes opened, she smiled.

“Good morning, Matthew.”

“Good morning, sleepy head.” He chuckled and climbed out of bed. “We have to meet your dad in an hour.”

“Dad and his girlfriend.” y/n stretched and went to her bag to grab an outfit.

“You want first shower?” Matt asked her, causing y/n to nearly drop her phone in shock.

“Yes.” she grabbed her stuff and ran to the bathroom. Matt chuckled and went on his phone. There was a missed call from Nick and a few hundred texts from both of his brothers. He clicked on Nick’s contact and waited for the answer.

“Oh thank god you’re not dead!” was the first thing that came out of Nick’s mouth. “You need to answer your phone more often, asshole. We were worried.”

“Yeah. Really worried, jackass.” Matt heard Chris’ voice in the background. “How’s Miami?”

“It’s actually going really well. We got so many details for our ‘relationship’ story that her dad is going to love.”

“That’s awesome. Can I talk to y/n?”

“She’s in the shower but when she comes out, I’ll tell her to call you while i take my turn.”

“You let her have first shower? Who are you?” Nick joked. “Okay. Just tell her to call me when she’s done. I have something important to tell her.”

“And not me?”

“It’s about you, actually.” Matt could hear Chris laughing in the background, no doubt because he said something he wasn’t supposed to. He just chuckled and said a quick goodbye before hanging up on his brother. Y/n walked out of the bathroom a few moments later and smiled. “Hey. Nick wants you to call him while I’m in the shower.”

“Okay.” She immediately clicked on his name while Matt disappeared. When Nick’s face flashed on her screen, she smiled.

“Glad to see you’re not dead. Do you ever answer your phone?”

“I was in the shower.” She giggled and looked at the bathroom door. “What’s up?”

“I have something super important to talk to you about. It involves Matthew.”

“What is it?” she looked at the 2 boys on her screen and when they kept exchanging looks, it started worrying her. “If you guys don’t say anything, I’m going to freak out.”

“Apparently some girl has been going around LA saying she’s dating Matt. Thought I’d let you know, just in case it comes up at some point while you guys are away.”

“Oh. That’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like it’s a real relationship between us. If he is dating her, that’s alright.”

“Just don’t let your dad hear about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t be too happy that his daughter is getting ‘cheated’ on.”

“I’ll do my best to keep him of the internet.” y/n smiled and looked back at the bathroom. “I’ll talk to you guys later tonight.” She ended the call just as Matt emerged from the bathroom. “How was your shower?”

“Refreshing.” He chuckled and picked up his phone. “So what did Nick have to talk to you about?”

“Apparently some girl has been going around LA saying that you guys are dating. He just told me to keep the news away from my dad.”

“Oh, must be Jessica.”

“Who the hell is Jessica?” y/n raised an eyebrow and suddenly realized how jealous that sounded so she dialed it back a bit. “I mean, who’s Jessica?”

“I went on one date with her 6 months ago and she’s been stalking me ever since. Nothing to be worried about. I only have eyes for you.” he playfully winked at her and grabbed the car keys. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this.” y/n followed him out to the car. As they parked at the restaurant they’d be meeting her dad at, y/n looked at Matt. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, a little nervous. I never met a girls dad before. What if he hates me?”

“Matthew Bernard,” y/n paused her sentence and squeezed his hand. “he will not hate you. I promise. You have nothing to be nervous about. I’m going to be with you the entire time.”

“Thanks.” He looked out the window. “Should we head in now?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it!” y/n got out of the car and grabbed Matt’s hand again when he approached her. They walked in and Matt followed y/n to a table where another couple sat. He stayed a little behind her as she greeted the man and woman with hugs.

“It’s good to see you sweetheart. It’s been too long.” The woman beamed brightly.

“I know. I’ve just been really busy out in LA these last few months.” y/n looked back at Matt. “Speaking of busy, I would like you guys to meet my boyfriend. Dad, Crystal, this is Matt. Matt, this is my dad and his girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you two.”

“I wish I could say the same but y/n has failed to tell me anything about you.”

“I’m sorry about that, Dad. But I didn’t want to oversell him and have him not meet your expectations.”

“Well, is he treating you good?”

“Absolutely. The most perfect gentleman.”

“Then my expectations are met.” y/n’s dad smiled at Matt and they sat back at the table. As they ate, Matt found himself warming up to y/n’s dad and his girlfriend. She was right. He really had nothing to worry about.

“So since you two have been dating for quite some time, I would assume you know a lot about my daughter.”

“Well, dad, Matt doesn’t-“

“I know lots about her.” Matt looked at y/n and smiled. “What questions do you have for me, sir?”

“What is her favorite color?”

“Her favorite color is green. That was an easy one.”

“Okay. Um, what is her favorite meal?”

“Okay, that’s a little tougher. But I know it really depends on her mood. If she’s sad, she prefers chili with shredded cheese. If she’s happy, her favorite meal is a nice juicy cheeseburger with a side of french fries. If she’s angry, the best food to give her is a crunchy taco so she can take out her frustration by breaking the shell.” Matt glanced over at y/n and smiled. “And her comfort food is vanilla ice cream topped with hundreds of sprinkles and drizzled with warm, not hot, caramel sauce.”

“I think it would’ve been best if you just told us everything you know about her instead of me asking, huh?”

“Dad, stop.” y/n giggled and hid her face in Matt’s arm. “You’re lucky I love you guys.”

“We love you too, honey.” y/n’s dad smiled as he reached for the bill. Matt was faster and already had his wallet out.

“Please, allow me.” Matt placed the money on the table, along with a generous tip for the waitress, before y/n’s dad could fight against him. Her dad just smiled and watched as Matt’s arm found its way around y/n’s waist. He was pleased knowing that his daughter had found someone so caring and attentive.

“Well, sweetheart, we’re going head off. Are you gonna be staying at the house tonight?”

“That’s what I was originally planning. If Matt is okay with it.”

“Of course. That sounds like fun.” Matt stood up from the booth and took y/n’s hand.

“We’ll meet you guys there in a bit. There’s something I wanna show Matt.”

“Okay. See you lovebirds later.” Crystal hugged y/n and waved to Matt before heading out to the car. Y/n turned to Matt and smiled.

“I had no idea you knew that much about me.”

“Well, most of it is from being very attentive but I had to get a few bits of information from Nick and Chris.”

“Still. You remembered it and I think my dad likes you.”

“Good. Then our plan is working.” He continued to hold her hand even as they got in the car. “So where did you want me to go? What did you want to show me?”

“When I was 9, my cousins and I found this really cool tree but that’s that not the cool part. The best part about it is that it leads to this really cool spot and I only bring the best people there. So you better feel lucky.”

“Oh, I do.” He smiled and listened to her directions. Within minutes, he was pulling up to an odd looking tree. “Is this it?”

“Yes.” y/n happily jumped out of the car and ran to the tree. Matt followed slowly behind her and chuckled to himself as she danced around the field. She never cared what anyone thought of her and that was why Matt admired her so much. He would never admit it, but he just found her incredibly attractive and fascinating. “Come on, Matthew. We haven’t even made it to the best part.”

“Right behind you.” he chuckled and followed her further. When they finally stopped, Matt was staring at one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. It was a hidden waterfall that pooled out into the most mesmerizingly blue body of water. Y/n stood at the edge of the water and looked around.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Mesmerizingly so.” He took a step towards her and when she looked up at him, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Wanna take a dip in the water?”

“We’re not exactly dressed for the occasion.” Matt chuckled. “Besides, we promised to meet your dad back at his house.”

“Okay fine. But we should come back tonight. It’s even more magical at night.” She wiggled her eyebrows and headed back towards the car before Matt could give her an answer.

For the rest of the day, Matt got a tour from y/n and a big speech from her dad about their future. When everyone had gone to bed for the night, y/n convinced Matt to sneak out of the house and head back to the waterfall. She was right when she said it was magical at night.

However, Matt couldn’t bring himself to look at the water. He was instead focused on the way y/n had stripped down to almost nothing and was encouraging him to do the same. Not knowing what came over him, Matt quickly rid himself of all his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. Y/n smiled and held his hand.

“Ready do go for a swim?” she winked and pulled him into the water with her before he could say yes. Her impulsiveness was another thing he admired about her. As she swam around, she felt Matt’s gaze on her. “What are you thinking about, Matthew?”

“Just thinking about how cool this place is and how lucky I am that you chose to show it to me. Never have I felt so lucky in my life.”

“Well after today, I feel like you deserve to have a little fun. Hope my dad didn’t scare you too much.”

“It was actually really nice getting to know him. He’s a really good guy and he raised a really great daughter.”

“He’s not around. You don’t have to suck up to him, Matt.” y/n rolled her eyes playfully and splashed a little water at him. “But I do appreciate the compliment.”

Matt splashed her back and his smile only grew when she began to laugh. “You know, I thought I was going to hate this trip but it’s only the first night and I am already enjoying it. Makes me excited for what’s to come.”

“You’re going to absolutely love meeting my cousins. They watch your videos like 24/7 and they’re 12 so when they see you, they’re going to be so excited.”

“Oh, wow. I can’t wait.” Matt smiled and swam cover to where y/n was. “The moon is bright tonight. Really brings out the green in your eyes.”

“Really? I think it makes my eyes look dull.” She tried looking away from him but he grabbed her chin and made her look directly into his eyes.

“Your eyes are so beautiful and I’m trying really hard not to kiss you right now.”

“Same.” y/n’s eyes widened as she spoke. She was not expecting to hear that come out of her mouth ever.

“Well, maybe we should’ve added it to the list of details for the story. Make something up, or something.”

“Or we could get the pesky ‘first kiss’ story out of the way and have something true about our history.”

Just as their lips were about to connect, Matt backed away. “I think we should head back to the house before someone realizes we snuck out.”

“Oh. Okay.” y/n tried to not let her disappointment show in her tone as she swam towards the edge of the water. Matt followed and got dressed silently. The car ride back was slow and silent, not to mention incredibly awkward. Whatever moment they were having at the waterfall was clearly over and didn’t seem like it would happen again anytime soon.

As they slowly climbed back into y/n’s bedroom, there was a heavy tension between them. Matt looked at her and felt so stupid for not kissing her when he had the opportunity.

“I’m sorry about that.” He looked down at his feet.

“It’s okay.” She turned her back to him and sighed. Matt noticed it as an anxiety breath. He wanted to go over and comfort her but he didn’t want to cross any boundaries. “We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah we should.” Matt took a step towards the bed but stopped. “Should I sleep on the floor so it’s not uncomfortable sharing a bed?”

“No. You can sleep up here with me.” y/n turned to look at him and for a second, Matt had hope he hadn’t fucked everything up. “I have enough pillows to put between us. It’ll be fine.” She began to build a small wall down the middle of the bed. Matt watched her carefully. He could tell she didn’t want to do it but they both knew they needed something to keep them from getting too close.

“I know you said it’s okay but I truly am sorry.” Matt slowly climbed onto one side of the bed while y/n got in the other side. “Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Matthew.”

When Matt woke up the next morning, the pillow wall was completely demolished and y/n was wrapped up in his arms. He smiled and pretended to be asleep when he felt her stir.

Y/n opened one eye and noticed how close she had gotten to Matt overnight. A small smile spread across her face and she couldn’t help but get closer. He was so warm. He subconsciously pulled her closer and when he opened his eyes again, he caught her looking at him.

“Morning.” He smiled. Even though they were both awake and there was no need to be cuddled together, neither of them wanted to let go. It was as if the almost-kiss last night didn’t happen and everything was alright between them.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” y/n smiled and finally rolled out of his grasp. She checked her phone and noticed they had slept later than either of them had wanted. “Crap. We slept in. My family is gonna be here any minute.”

“You’re right.” He slowly turned away as y/n got out of bed and began to change in front of him without thinking. When she was done, she turned towards him and giggled.

“You didn’t have to look away, Matt. It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”

“All those times were accidents. And besides, it’s not polite to watch a lady change.”

“You’ve been acting differently since we started this trip. Are you feeling alright?” y/n approached him and placed her hand on his forehead. Suddenly aware of the close proximity, Matt held his breath. “Well, you’re a little warm but that’s nothing to be concerned about.” y/n dropped her hand to his shoulder. “You should get dressed now.”

“Right.” He stood up awkwardly and grabbed some clothes. Y/n noticed his internal struggle and she went to the door.

“You can get changed in here. I’ll be downstairs.”

“Wait. You can stay. It’ll just take a second.” Matt slowly slipped his sweatpants on and quickly replaced his shirt. As he did so, y/n noticed the way his arms flexed as he raised them above his head. She tried to look away before he noticed but when he smirked, she knew she had been caught. “Like what you see?” he teased.

“Shut up.” y/n rolled her eyes and walked out of the room with Matt following closely behind. They made their way to the kitchen where Crystal was busy preparing stuff for lunch.

“Well, good morning lovebirds.” She smiled. “I was going to wake you earlier but you guys looked so cute all cuddled up in bed. Figured I would let you sleep a little longer.”

“Thanks, Crystal.” y/n smiled and sat on the stool at the island. Matt took the seat next to her and smiled. “What’s for lunch?”

“We’re just going to do a basic barbecue since your cousins are coming over soon. We know how picky they are.”

“And you can never go wrong with a good old fashioned barbecue.” Matt looked up and smiled.

“Yes, exactly.” Crystal grabbed a few things from the fridge and put them on a tray. “Your father is outside working on getting the grill started.”

“I think I’m gonna go talk to him.” Matt stood up and headed outside. Crystal turned to y/n with a wide smile.

“He’s so cute and such a gentleman.”

“Yeah, I suppose he is.” y/n watched the door as if Matt would reappear any second.

“You should’ve heard all the nice things he was saying to your dad last night. That boy is head over heels for you, y/n.”

“It’s not real.” y/n blurted out, quickly turning to Crystal with wide eyes. Crystal herself was just as shocked.

“What are you talking about?”

“The relationship. It’s not real. Not even close.” She sighed. Why was she suddenly so upset?

“I’m still not following, dear.” Crystal had a little bit of a clue as to what was being said but she wasn’t believing any of it.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you guys this year so when dad called and asked if I was bringing someone home for Christmas, I panicked and said yes. Then I was struggling to find someone to agree to come here with me so I got my best friend’s brother to do it.”

“Honey, you could never disappoint us. And honestly, from what I saw, it doesn’t seem so fake to me.”

“Huh?”

“When that boy talks about you, he gets a sparkle in his eye that lights up every feature of his face. I’ve known you for quite some time and I know some of the boys you actually dated and none of them ever looked that way when talking about you. Hell, they never really talked that much about you or knew anything about you. But Matt does. He truly cares for you, sweetheart. And whether it’s actual love or plain admiration, it’s there and it’s real.”

“No. He doesn’t.” y/n sighed. “Please don’t tell dad or anyone else that I told you. Not yet anyway.”

“You got it, honey. My lips are sealed.” Crystal winked just as Matt walked back inside. He slid his arm around y/n’s waist with a smile.

“How are you lovely ladies doing?”

“We’re doing just fine.” Crystal picked up the tray and headed for the door. “Talk to you two later.”

Matt looked down at y/n when Crystal left and noticed she was tense. “hey. You alright, pretty girl?”

“What?” she shook her head and looked down at where his arm was still sitting then looked back up at him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I was just thinking.”

“What about? What’s going on in that pretty little mind, huh?”

“I told Crystal this relationship is fake.” y/n ignored the compliment and focused on something different.

“Oh.” Matt dropped his arm and took a step back. “What did she say about it?”

“She didn’t understand what I was saying at first and then I told her that I only did it to not disappoint her and my dad. She told me that I could never disappoint them. And then she said something I never really thought about until now.”

“What was that?”

“She said that whenever you were talking about me last night, your eyes sparkled and lit up every feature of your face. She then told me that, even though the relationship is fake, there’s some real feelings going on.” y/n took a second to glance up at Matt, catching how he was already staring at her. “So, I need to know. Is she telling the truth? Do you have any feelings for me?”

“Um…about that. I, uh-“

Matt was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. As y/n went to answer it, he let out a sigh of relief. Seconds later, he was face to face with y/n and some of her cousins. The younger girls began to squeal as they approached him.

“I can’t believe that our y/n is dating a Sturniolo triplet. This is absolutely insane.” The little blonde girl hugged him and he smiled, instantly hugging her back. The boy looked at him and smirked.

“Don’t mind her. She’s been watching your videos for years.”

“It’s perfectly fine. I love meeting fans.” He looked at y/n and smiled.

“Brooke, you can let him go now.” the young boy chuckled and tried to pry his sister off of Matt to no avail.

“But Jackson, I have so much to ask him.”

“Why don’t we let him breathe for a minute before you attack with the questions?” Jackson finally pulled his little sister off and smiled.

“You alright, Matt?” y/n offered him a small smile, which he gladly returned.

“Yeah.” He chuckled and looked at Brooke. “What questions do you have for me?”

“Oh, so many.” Brooke grabbed Matt’s hand and dragged him into the living room. Y/n was about to follow but Jackson stopped her.

“I don’t think you’re going to get very much time with Matt while we’re here.” He chuckled and y/n glanced at the doorway.

“That’s okay. I get plenty of time with him any other day. Plus, he’s really good with kids so this is actually really heartwarming to watch.” y/n walked into the living room and took a seat next to Matt. He was quick to put his arm around her as he listened intently to Brooke’s questions and answered what he could.

They were like that for another hour before the rest of the family arrived. Matt was introduced to everyone while Brooke and a few more cousins stuck to his side. By the time they were all called outside to eat, Matt looked almost exhausted from answering all the questions but he smiled through it all.

While the kids all hurried out to the backyard, Matt and y/n hung back in the kitchen.

“I told you that you were going to be bombarded with questions.”

“That’s alright. I really don’t mind. Your family is amazing.”

“I know they are.” y/n smiled and looked at him. Her smile started fading when she remembered their conversation from before everyone arrived. “Can we talk later?”

“Yeah, of course.” Matt instinctively placed a kiss on the top of her head and went outside, leaving y/n to wonder what just happened.

Later that night, y/n and Matt were back in their hotel room, away from the chaos that was her family. Matt was on his bed while y/n was searching through her suitcase for something.

“What did you want to talk about?” Matt asked, remembering the conversation. He knew what she wanted to talk about but he needed her to ask the question again.

“Honestly, I don’t remember. Maybe I’ll think of it again and ask you in the morning. Oh, that reminds me. Christmas dinner is taking place at my dad’s house around 2 but I told him and Crystal that we’d be there around 10, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah that works.” Matt pulled the covers over him and looked at her. He knew she didn’t really forget the question but he didn’t want to bring it up again, in fear of making things more awkward than they already were. Instead, he plugged his phone in and smiled. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight.” She headed to the bathroom and Matt slowly fell asleep.

--

The next morning while they were at her dad’s house, Crystal pulled Matt aside for a ‘talk’ that wasn’t really a talk.

“Look, I know the relationship is fake and everything and y/n may never admit this but there’s clearly something real between you two. I know it and maybe you know it too so if you truly do love her, you need to tell her before she slips away from you and ends up with someone else. And believe me when I say this, none of the other boys she has dated have ever made her smile the way you do, or even talked about her like you do. So please, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, just tell her how you feel.”

Matt went to respond but she was gone before he could blink. He found y/n talking with Brooke and Jackson so he decided to join them. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah sure.” She followed him into the kitchen and watched him lean against the counter. “What’s up, Matty bear?”

“I just, uh, had a talk with Crystal. Well it was more like she talked to me then disappeared.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What exactly did she say?” y/n raised her eyebrow and subconsciously leaned closer to hear what he was about to say.

“She said that-“

“Everyone, can you please come into the living room?” y/n’s dad called out to everyone in the house. Everyone gathered in the living room and y/n watched her dad pull out a ring and propose to Crystal. Matt didn’t pay attention to the whole speech. His focus was on y/n’s reaction. When Crystal said yes, y/n’s eyes welled up with tears and she hugged her dad and Crystal tightly. She noticed Matt watching her and pulled him into the hug as well. Soon enough, everyone was joining in. It was a joyous celebration.

At the dinner table an hour later, y/n’s leg bounced a little more than normal. Matt noticed and he held her hand underneath the table, hoping to calm her down. It worked and she thanked him by squeezing his hand tightly. They were both silent about what they each knew and neither one of them wanted to cross the friendship line, in fear of screwing up possibly the best relationship either of them ever had.

By the time everyone was leaving, y/n found herself talking with Brooke and Jackson again while Matt watched silently.

“You guys are so cute together.” Brooke gushed. “Matt is so cute. OH my goodness. I forgot to ask you how it feels to be dating THE Matthew Sturniolo.”

“It feels different. Better than anything I’ve experienced before. He’s a great guy.” y/n smiled down at Brooke.

“So, do you love him?” Jackson questioned, cocking an eyebrow in anticipation.

“Yeah. Of course. He’s my best friend.” y/n smiled in Matt’s direction. “He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, honestly. And he treats me so good.”

“Good. Because you’re my favorite cousin and I would hate to find out he hasn’t been treating you well.” Jackson hugged her and followed the rest of his family out the door. Y/n turned to Matt and smiled. As she approached him, he had a big smile on his face.

“What’s up, Mr. Sturniolo? What’s got you so smiley tonight?”

“Your family is absolutely amazing.”

“I agree.” She leaned against the opposite wall in the doorway. “What did you think of my dad proposing to Crystal?”

“I didn’t really hear the speech. Honestly, I was completely zoned out and staring at you the entire time, just watching your reaction.”

“Why?” she was interested to know. It could be the answer she had been looking for since yesterday afternoon.

“It was a beautiful moment. Just had to see your reaction.” He shrugged. “Besides, in a crowded room, my eyes always find you.”

“Oh.” y/n smiled.

“I didn’t get to give you my present!” he exclaimed suddenly, grabbing her hand and dragging her up to her bedroom. He pulled out a box and handed it to her. “M-merry Christmas.”

Y/n opened the box and nearly sobbed at the beautiful necklace before her. She had been wanting this specific necklace for the last 6 months but whenever she went to buy it herself, they happened to be sold out. She never told anyone so how did Matt know and how did he suddenly end up with one?

Matt took the necklace out of the box and moved her hair to the side so he could place it around her neck. As she turned back towards him, her hand went up to play with the charm.

“How did you know?” she looked up into his eyes.

“I saw the way you looked at it that one time we passed it at the store. While you went to go with Chris to that one store, I went back to buy it for you. I figured you would want something that was as beautiful as you.” he moved a piece of hair out of her face and she subconsciously leaned into his touch before she knew what she was doing. But just as fast as that happened, she pulled away just as fast.

“Matt, don’t do this. Please?”

“Do what? Listen to Crystal?”

“What did she tell you to do?” y/n took a step back but Matt walked closer.

“She told me to tell you how I felt or risk losing you to someone else.” He sighed “Look, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what, Matt?” y/n looked down at her feet.

“I should’ve just fucking kissed you at the damn waterfall. It’s been eating me up inside that I skipped over possibly one of the greatest opportunities of my life because I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Matt stepped back and ran his hands through his hair anxiously. “Crystal was right, y/n. I do have feelings for you. I have for so damn long and that was why I didn’t initially want to come on this trip with you. I was afraid. Afraid I was going to fuck something up and turns out, it’s exactly what I’m doing. I could tell how upset you were when we left the waterfall that night. And that seriously fucking crushed me. Like, how could I be so damn stupid?” he looked at her. and sighed. “Please tell me I didn’t mess our friendship up by completely backing out of that kiss.”

“Matt, take a breath. Just relax.” y/n rubbed his arm up and down before squeezing his hand. “You didn’t mess anything up. I am right here and I am always going to be right here. You could yell at me and call me every possible name you could think of and I would still love you. Because you’re my best friend and that love stretches beyond any human comprehension. You stand out from every single person I know and that makes me love you so much more. And every single detail we came up with for our ‘relationship’ suddenly seems incredibly true. Yeah, maybe you fell in love with me first but I can guarantee that this love right here,” she gestured between them and stepped impossibly closer. “this love is real. As real as you and me, Matt. So no. You didn’t screw up by backing out of the kiss. You just delayed the most perfect moment between us because now, it won’t be a kiss that was just random. It’s going to mean something.”

“What kiss?” Matt questioned, his eyes flicking down to her lips before going back up. Before he had time to register what was going on, she grabbed his face gently and placed her lips on his. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck while his gripped her waist tightly, as if at any moment, she would slip away like Crystal said. But he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon.

Y/n was the first to break the kiss but her arms stayed around his neck while her fingers danced delicately on the little hairs that were there.

“I know we’re all the way in Florida right now but a part of me keeps thinking that one of your brothers is gonna come bursting through that door to ruin our moment.”

And as if on cue, Matt’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and showed the screen to y/n. She laughed when she saw Chris’ face pop up.

“Merry Christmas, bitches. How was your day?” he smirked, somehow knowing that he interrupted an intimate moment. “How’s Miami?”

“It’s great here. Don’t have to put up with you idiots in person.” Matt chuckled and held y/n close.

“I was just calling to wish you both a Merry Christmas but I’m sensing that I interrupted a moment so I’m gonna go before the Mattitude kicks in. Buh-bye.” He abruptly ended the call and Matt shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Now where were we?” he smirked and kissed y/n again.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @carolinasamattgirl

[justinalovee]

𝑴𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏

Pairing: Alicent Hightower × Reader

Word Count: 787

Warnings: Oral sex, fingering,swearing, masturbation, scissoring

Summary: Alicent enjoys her lady-in-waiting

A/N: All characters are 18+! minors DNI

“My queen.”

Alicent continued to pace back and forth, mumbling to herself, completely unaware that you’d entered her chambers. Your queen had worked herself up into a tense state again, becoming more frustrated than before. You pour two cups of wine, and taking one for yourself, you move to sit at the edge of the bed. You take a small sip before speaking more loudly, “Alicent.”

She finally notices you, her eyes scanning your body as she takes in your naked form. “My apologies; I never heard you come in.”

“Hmm, I noticed.” You take another sip of wine. “Remove your clothes, and I’ll let you make it up to me.”

A smile pulls at the corner of her lips. You smirked watching her remove each piece of clothing until she was completely naked. Once she completed the task, she stood beside her discarded green gown. Your eyes linger on the faith of seven necklaces that remained hanging around her neck, resting just above her perky breasts. “I did what you asked, my lady.”

“You did; now come here.”

Alicent stands in the spot in front of you. You pinch one of her nipples with one finger while sucking on the other, causing her to let out a moan. You let her breast out with a pop, admiring the way your saliva coats it. “Get down on your knees and stick your tongue out. I want you to taste me.”

Obediently Alicent goes onto her knees and sticks her tongue out, sliding it along your folds before swirling it around your clit. Your relationship with the queen was complicated; you loved Rhaenyra like a sister, you knew about her affair with your brother Harwin, and you never once judged her for it. Your lover Alicent was another story; despite the queen being the biggest hypocrite you knew, you were still drawn to her. Being her lady in waiting, you’d observed her behavior for some time and saw a completely different side to her. A side you couldn’t get enough of—a side that caused you to become addicted to her touch. Alicent attached herself to you since she could be herself and give all control over to you without feeling ashamed. Not long after your first sexual encounter together, Alicent confessed she wanted to be bossed around in the bed chamber, which admittedly was difficult for you to get into the swing of at first.

Alicent pushed her tongue inside you; her wet tongue felt amazing rubbing against your tight hole. “So good; you’re doing such a good job.”

At your praise, Alicent moved her mouth to suck on your clit, then slid two of her slender fingers inside you. Your fingers tangle in her hair, pulling her closer to your wet cunt and holding her in place. She speeds up her actions while gripping your thigh with one hand to keep her balance. When the coil in your stomach snaps, you cough on her fingers, which she licks clean. Alicent leans back with a proud look on her face. “You taste divine.”

You shuffle further back onto the bed, reaching for Alicent’s hand. You pull her on top of you, clashing your lips together. Playfully, you smack her behind before groping her ass cheeks while considering your next move; eventually, you decide. “You have such a beautiful cunny, my queen. I want you to show me how you play with it when I’m not here.”

Alicent gets off you and lays on her back, knees bent and legs wide open to give you a full view as she starts touching herself. She squeezes one breast while her other hand snakes to her silky folds as she begins to finger-fuck herself. It was a marvellous sight to see, but you did long to watch something other than fingers stretch her tight little hole. Perhaps that was a fantasy to discuss with her another time.

You rub at your own clit.

You open your legs wider and say, “My pretty queen, I want to feel your cum on me.”

Alicent removes her fingers and settles herself between your legs, the wetness from her cunny dripping onto your own as she looks for the right position. Finally, she lowers herself, brushing her wet clit against yours. Wet slapping sounds and moans of pleasure fill the room as she keeps up the rubbing motion. It doesn’t take Alicent long to reach her peak, her breasts swaying with each movement as she does. Seconds later, you come undone for the second time.

When she collapses onto you, you kiss her softly and stroke the back of her hair. “Did I do okay?”

“You did amazing, my perfect little queen.”

[kels-valley-blog]

one tries to fly away: a cringefail farmer x harvey fic

first time posting fic on tumblr, so not sure what i'm supposed to be doing :D anyway i was possessed this afternoon and wrote this fic featuring @clarisinne's cringefail farmer and harvey. i liberally mixed metaphors in this fic, which i am not sorry for in the slightest.

crossposted on ao3--please enjoy!

---

Harvey divided his life in two, in much the same way a historian splits history. For the historian, the ages are separated by the death of a Galilean man. For Harvey, there was before and after her.

For both Harvey and historian, time was reckoned by the coming of a savior.

He didn’t recognize her as such right away, partly because he wasn’t entirely aware of his own misery. He knew he was sad, sure, and he distantly felt the years piling up on his shoulders. But these feelings were familiar, and he had long since stopped noticing them. He didn’t remember a time when loneliness hadn’t been his faithful companion.

(A bird born in a cage does not miss the sky.)

Harvey, for his part, had made quite the comfortable life for himself in his cage. He’d decorated it with the few joys and achievements he had. The iron wires that wrapped around his life were predictable and study. Most days, he forgot to miss his long-dead dream of flight.

She had entered his life like a fireball, a meteor burning bright against his sky. Out of control, she hurtled from the heavens, crashing against his comfortable imprisonment and crushing some of the cage bars quite badly. She disturbed him.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about being disturbed.

He had seen her, fluttering around the town, bumping into everything and always popping back up with a flushed smile. She drew his eye—a spot of color against the dark and drab world. When she burst into the clinic, braids flying and eyes bright, he had no choice but to let her in.

(Looking back, that had been the moment when his life shifted from one age to the next.)

And she was clumsy, and loud, and she seemed to slam doors more often than not, and she rattled Harvey’s world in a way that no one had before. She dragged herself into the clinic at all hours, nursing all manner of cuts and bruises and broken bones. She brought him jars of pickles and lukewarm coffee carried from the farm, and sometimes the crushed remains of a plant she’d foraged on the walk into town and shoved in her pocket. And she was kind, and earnest, and lord she was cute sometimes, and—

And oh.

That feeling was new.

(A breeze blew through the bars of the cage.)

But he didn’t get ahead of himself. He was nothing like her—he would never be. She was, quintessentially, free, and he would always be held down by something: his job, his eyesight, his own fear. What use did a skylark like her have for someone as leaden as him? 

She did not seem to care about the weight on his shoulders—or perhaps she was just not aware of it. Maybe she hadn’t yet realized that this heaviness he carried was as much a part of him as his hands or his heart, and that he would never be able to join her in her carefree life.

Well. He would enjoy this for as long as he could, anyway. It was nice to have some fresh air, after all this time. For now, he would just be as good of a friend as he could manage—try to smile at her, try to keep her from dying in the mines, try to listen when she spoke. (These weren’t hard tasks at all—with the possible exception of keeping her from dying. That proved surprisingly difficult.)

And everything was nice, once again: a status quo, maintained. Harvey knew where he stood with her. He had been lonely for so long that this new type of heartache could blend in easily enough. He was fine. He just wanted to help her, wanted to double-check that she hadn’t hit her head in the mines, wanted to make sure she didn’t have any brain injuries—

She told him that she liked him. She ran away.

(The door to the cage cracked open, just a bit.)

And they didn’t fall in love right away, which didn’t surprise him—but she didn’t realize her mistake either, which did. She was just as awkward in courtship as she had been in every other aspect of her life, and she still carried with her that wild energy that always made his heart beat a little faster. What was a man supposed to expect from someone like her? How could he predict the way the wind would turn next?

They went on a date, and she fumbled over her words. She looked at him, sometimes, like he was worthwhile, and that made him feel all sorts of funny—like he was tumbling from a great height and wasn’t quite sure when he would land. 

He quite deliberately didn’t let his mind wander to their future—the worst thing he could get right now was false hope. For all he knew, she would soon come to him, tell him that she was sorry, but he was just too boring and sad and cloistered, and she had a whole life ahead of her. She would fly away, and he would stay here.

Then she tackled him, and she crushed a bouquet into his arms. She choked out a half of a garbled question and then promptly hurled into the grass beside him.

Well. If Harvey hadn’t been in love before, he certainly was now.

And that was the feeling, wasn’t it? That creeping sensation of warmth that had plagued him for months now. It was love, plain and simple. He was so unused to it that it had been hard to identify. And yet, there it was, stubbornly spreading its wings.

(For the first time in a long time, he let himself look beyond the bars that surrounded him.)

She hovered there, nervously within reach and clearly fighting the urge to run away. And yet he dared to hope that she might truly feel the same—that she might love him, in her way. That perhaps, she was just as scared as he was.  She didn’t know it, of course, but she had been the first one to truly reach out to him in so long—that freckled, calloused hand held out like a lifeline, to pull him up out of the fog that hung near the ground. 

He was frightened, sometimes, by the sheer intensity of his feelings. It was a lot for a man to handle, especially one like him, unaccustomed to how happiness felt. The brightness blinded him sometimes. 

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

By this point, he had recognized her for what she was, and understood that nothing was going to be the same from this point out. Even if she did decide that it was all over, he would be better for having known her. He wouldn’t be able to go back to the cold metal of his containment, not knowing that there was a whole world just beyond. 

And then, in the absurd twist that he should have come to expect from his life, she took it into her head that he was leaving her (as if he wasn’t head over heels for her, as if he hadn’t been for months.) She poured out a litany of fears and insecurities, a deluge of pent-up pain that didn’t give him a chance to speak against the onslaught. She stood toe to toe with him, and she challenged him to tell her exactly how he felt.

He answered with his lips against hers.

(The cage shattered around him when she kissed him back.)

Harvey soared.

fin

[artist-issues]

I know we're all over this topic right now. But one of the main things I think was important in the original The Little Mermaid that the remake totally missed was that Ariel's faith was in a person.

She starts out having faith in an idea. A vague concept. "Humans might be wonderful and worth loving because they make wonderful things. They might not be barbarians. They might even understand me."

And that's great. She has some evidence to put her faith in. But that evidence is how kind and harmless a scatter-brained seagull is, and his nonsense explanations of human trinkets.

So she deduces that the humans might not all be bad and they might actually be wonderful. If they can make things, maybe they must be inventive--maybe they see the world as full of possibilities--just like she does.

And that's enough to make her argue with her dad, the king, and buck against the entire undersea worldview.

It's enough to make her spend her days collecting and dreaming.

It's enough to make her visit the surface despite the fact that it's forbidden and potentially a risk to her life.

But the collection, the good Surface-Seagull, and all her guesses about the Surface are not enough to make her leave her family and her world behind.

And the original movie's creators knew that the audience needed to see that, in Act 1.

She thinks about it. But she doesn't actually pull the trigger. She doesn't actually take the leap of faith, or make the big sacrifice.

Not until she meets a person who embodies all the things she's hoped were true after her experiences with trinkets and seagulls.

When Ariel discovers Eric, he brings all her dreams about what the Surface might be like to life. He makes it real.

That's why she's in love with him. There's a combination of "he's everything I hoped humans would be...and he's even better, because I know how he feels."

In the Script for The Little Mermaid, when Eric asks if Grimsby is still "sore because I didn't fall for the Princess of Glowerhaven," there's just one break in the dialogue before Grimsby responds. It says "Ariel listens closely."

Because that's important. It's not just because she thinks he's handsome and she's listening to learn more about what his love life is like. She's listening closely because there's a conflict, like the ones she has with her father, and she wants to see if this human is "reprimanded" for his way of thinking or not.

She not only finds a human who is brave, sacrifices himself for an animal, and free to explore--she also finds a human who has dreams that the people around him can't understand.

He makes her ideals real, and expands on them, just by being himself.

Ariel learns precisely what she needs to about him, in one scene, for her in-character response to be "falls deeply in love."

And he's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Suddenly it's all real to her. Now she can sacrifice. Now she has something powerful enough to put her faith in--now she has someone worth loving enough to take a big leap of faith to.

That's why having her forget that she needs to kiss him, and having her only decide to give up her life under the sea when Ursula specifically mentions "never leave home again," is not Ariel. It implies that most prominent reason for her sacrifice was so that she could be free to explore instead of imprisoned where nobody gets her. But that's not Ariel. That's not the most important reason behind why she left in the original movie. She left because she finally had someone to love, and put her faith in.

She left for love, not independence. She left for Eric, not just for herself. You can dislike that all you want, but then you're disliking Ariel. Because that's who she is; that's why she did it.

[lacy-oh-lacy]

how about sam or taras reaction to ghostface killing reader? and maybe getting revenge?

'Til Death

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader (& Platonic Tara Carpenter x Reader)

Word Count: 0.7k (pretty short, sorry ♡)

CW: Death, violence, grief, angst, murder, brief sexual reference, you die sorry, graphic language, unhappy ending

Sam was going to Kill Richie.

She was going to tear him open again and again until he couldn't even scream without choking on his own blood.

It didn't matter that she’d been stabbed, it didn't matter that he had the gun. Seeing you fall to ground, gushing blood, she knew she was going to fucking kill him.

"You know, Sam. I'm starting to think I wasn't the only one being a little less than faithful." Richie gestured to your motionless form. "Or are you gonna tell me you haven't been eye-scissoring your galpal over there since we came to Woodsboro?"

"Fuck you!"

She hated the red-hot fury coursing through her. She hated that she’d already made up her mind about this. You’d always told her she was nothing like her dad, but…

She had to make him pay. For what he did to Tara, to her and now to you.

You, the first person she ever opened up to. You, who were so understanding and still said you loved her just as earnestly.

She felt like the biggest idiot in the world for ever thinking you could've been Ghostface.

When she saw you again for the first time in five years she was so mesmerized she almost forgot why she was in Woodsboro. She almost forgot she had a boyfriend too.

You wrapped your arms around her and it was like she was 16 again in one of those fleeting moments where nothing else mattered because she was with you.

Then a bouquet that must have been for Tara grazed her back and she remembered where she was.

"Hey... It's good to see you again, Sam."

"That's a relief..."

A relief she wasn't so sure she was owed.

How you could greet her like that with the history the two of you had -with the bitter way she had brought that history to a close no less- she had no idea, but she clung to you gratefully.

You were as soft and warm as she remembered and all too soon she had to pull back and retreat into herself. You weren't her's anymore, she ruined that. She couldn't let you make her heart flutter like nothing changed. Like she didn't have a boyfriend now.

"It's good to see you too. Or it would be if the circumstances weren't so fucking shitty."

"I know. I can't believe it. Have you spoken to Tara?”

Despite herself, her heart fluttered. You’d always cared so much about Tara, not as an obligation because you were dating her sister, truly cared. It was one of the things Sam liked most about you.

"Yeah, I have... and she mentioned you've been looking out for her since I... went away. Thank you."

You smiled -but it wasn't that bright, disarming smile you had that hit Sam's system like a love potion. Your face struggled against it.

"Yeah. Of course."

So... You did resent Sam a little. She guessed it wasn't fair to expect any different.

Despite that resentment you still visited Tara again the next day. You still saved Sam's boyfriend when Ghostface attacked the hospital-

-except you didn't, because he was never in any real danger... And that was ex boyfriend now.

And now you were lying on the floor, bleeding out and unresponsive because of fucking goddamn Richie.

He was getting cocky. He underestimated how much strength Sam had left in her because she was crawling away, he couldn't see the rage bubbling beneath her fear.

He couldn't have made it easier to get the knife in his neck.

A woman possessed, she stabbed him again and again and again, tearing into his chest until it was more blood than skin.

She couldn't stab him enough for every betrayal, for every way he hurt someone she cared about but she could fucking try.

With nothing but bloody remains left in front of her, profound coldness settled inside Sam. She stared long and hard at what used to be Richie because she knew when she stopped she’d have to look at you. What used to be you.

A piercing gasp came from behind her, Sam’s insides twisted as it turned into sobs.

Tara found you.

It was only when Richie’s body blurred that Sam realized her sister wasn't the only one crying.

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