#this is a show that saw a book with genuinely loving step family and thought they could do better

[shadowmasterthirteen]

I have not yet watch bridgerton s3 part 1 yet (Netflix password sharing rules have hit Australia so I'm waiting until the season is finished)

But... I've seen a lot of people saying how benedict would be so tricky because of how he treats Sophie in the book.

And I have thoughts that finally crystallised.

Spoilers ahead. Maybe.

Benedict tries to make Sophie his mistress several times. Now one of the reasons this is weird to me is that he's supposed to be wrong? It's like saying Daphne x Simon is problematic because they're only married because they get compromised. More happens after that. Benedict has to learn that's wrong and give Sophie what she wants (marriage).

But also it's kinda whorephobic? Anthony had a mistress he tried to run away with. Benedict has already had 3 (I hear rumours that he's had a fourth affair in s3 part 1 even). So it seems pretty normal for him to interact with a woman he likes by trying to make her his mistress. Tess in s2 didn't really seem like the type but she did it. Why is it so much worse to ask but not actually get Sophie to be a mistress? Just because she's going to be his endgame? So none of those other women deserved better?

Side note: I thought Anthony was actually super shitty to Sienna and she was right to dump him since he clearly thought she was a lesser woman than his sister. And you shouldn't think you're marrying down if you actually care for someone.

Extra side note: We meet tess for like 2 episodes and I still think her sleeping with Benedict seemed OOC. The female artist who wants respect but needs to be a model to get to study just sleeps with him? He's not that pretty.

And besides I think the real reason they haven't done Benedict is that they can't write Sophie. In the book she's illegitimate and this is enough to mean they are essentially ostracised from the ton when married. But in the show Kate's dad is a clerk from India and her mother is ??? which should have been just as scandalous as being an earl's daughter to a mistress. But in the show class doesn't exist so I don't think they're going to do that which means Benedict's whole reason for thinking he can't marry her and the reason he wouldn't have been expected to (because society thinks of Sophie as only good enough to be a mistress never a Mrs) probably won't exist.

[halfmoonaria]

when she lied

pairing: g!p sam carpenter & female reader

summary: your relationship with sam takes a turn when it’s supposed to be perfect.

word count: 4.5k

author’s note: based on the scene from the last kiss. my posts are flopping so bad its ridicilous, so if this does i wont be surprised.

Dating a professor was never in your plans growing up, let alone one tangled in rumors of being a serial killer.

But despite the unsettling rumors about Sam, you found yourself getting pulled in; as if she was a magnetic force.

You first met Sam at a local bookshop's author event, a quaint spot filled with the scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee.

The moment she walked in, you immediately thought she was the most breathtaking woman you'd ever seen. Her presence commanded the room, and you couldn't take your eyes off her.

It was no different for Sam. She thought you were straight-up gorgeous from the moment she saw you.

However, with her troubled past and a promise to only trust Tara and the twins, it was hard to break through her defenses. But your persistence and genuine care slowly chipped away at her walls.

You showed her kindness and understanding, proving that love and trust were still possible.

Over time, she began to let you in, sharing parts of herself that she had kept hidden for so long. Your patience and love helped her believe in a future where she could trust someone new.

Sam allowed you to take her out on dates, cautiously at first. You spent evenings at cozy restaurants, weekends exploring the city, and quiet nights at home, gradually building a bond that felt unbreakable. Each date brought you closer, and before long, you couldn't imagine life without each other.

It wasn't until Sam had built a solid trust in you that she felt comfortable introducing you to Tara. She was an important person in Sam's life, and she wanted to be sure you were someone who could truly be part of their family.

Tara was skeptical, her protective nature making it difficult for her to warm up to you.

However, as she observed your genuine care for Sam and saw how well you fit into their lives, her perspective softened. Tara eventually grew to appreciate you and welcomed you into the family with open arms.

Eventually, you both had decided on taking the next step and move in together. It was a big decision, but it felt right. You found a charming apartment that was perfect for starting your life together.

During this time, Sam transitioned from being a high school teacher to a college professor. She was passionate about her work and excelled in her new role, gaining respect from colleagues and students alike.

Her career move not only marked a professional milestone but also brought a sense of stability and accomplishment to your shared life.

In your own professional life, you worked as a child psychologist, helping kids navigate their emotions and overcome challenges.

And even though both of your busy occupations demanded a lot of your time, you both cherished the moments you could steal away together, whether it was meeting up after work or spending hours of love making past midnight; not caring if you had work the next day.

And you always made an effort to prioritize each other. Often, Sam would come to meet you after work, witnessing your interactions with the children.

She admired the ease with which you connected with them, the patience you showed, and the gentle way you guided them through their struggles. Seeing you in your element, she felt herself  being moved by your compassion and dedication.

It was in these moments that she became even more eager to start a family with you, convinced that together, with your nurturing nature, you could offer a child a truly loving and supportive environment.

She never said or mentioned it to you, afraid you'd find it too soon and leave her because of her sounding too pushy or desperate.

However, when you showed Sam a positive pregnancy test, beaming with joy and excitement. She failed to keep the thoughts inside her.

She couldn't wait to have kids with you. It was all she ever wanted, it was going to make everything even more perfect.

It was all perfect.

You had everything. Everything you could've asked for.

A wonderful girlfriend, a job you enjoyed and cherished, and now; a growing life inside of you.

You were going to be a mother, alongside the love of your life.

In your mind you had it all. And Sam had not yet to disagree.

Until you started to question everything you have.

Cracks began to appear as reality set in. With your pregnancy, you knew that your stomach would soon begin to grow, and you would have to make significant changes.

As your pregnancy progressed, you faced the undeniable truth that you would need to quit working soon. The physical demands of carrying a child meant that your ability to balance work and personal life was diminishing.

More troubling was the fact that the time you once spent with Sam seemed to evaporate.

She had begun to claim she was "working late" or "staying at the office," but these excuses were becoming increasingly frequent.

You started to notice that instead of spending evenings together, Sam was often absent, and it became clear she was spending her time elsewhere.

You had never had second thoughts or hesitation about you and Sam, but as the dinners alone and nights that was spent waiting for her to come home increased, you were starting to.

The life you had envisioned seemed to be disintegrating, replaced by an unsettling uncertainty about your future together.

It was a damp and dreary Thursday, the kind that soaked through your shoes and lingered in your bones.

The clock was nearing midnight, and Sam had yet to come home.

You sat alone in the couch of the living room, remnants of a cold dinner in the kitchen waiting for her just as much as you were.

The clock ticked louder with each passing minute, amplifying your growing concern as Sam continued to miss your text messages and calls. Your anxiety was palpable.

Finally, the front door finally creaked open, and Sam walked in, her face looking weary and her clothes slightly disheveled. You rose from the couch, feeling the weight of your pregnancy more acutely with each movement. Though your belly was still modest, the curve was noticeable.

You walked over to her, standing firmly in front of her, trying to meet her gaze. "Where have you been?" you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady and calm.

Sam seemed momentarily taken aback before she quickly tried to mask her discomfort. "I was at work," she said, though her eyes avoided yours.

You shook your head, hurt seeping into your tone. "You weren't at work until eleven o'clock at night." Taking a deep breath, you added, "Please, don't lie to me."

Sam's shoulders slumped, and her gaze fell to the floor. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken truths, and you could sense the growing distance between you. The warmth and closeness you once shared seemed to be slipping away, replaced by a cold uncertainty that left you questioning everything you had believed to be true.

You watched her closely, noticing the disheveled state of her clothes—her shirt slightly untucked, her hair a mess. Something about her appearance didn't sit right with you. The scent of an unfamiliar perfume lingered faintly in the air, a detail that only heightened your unease.

"Who were you with?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and suspicion. The late hours, the unanswered messages, and now this—everything pointed to something being terribly wrong.

"I was at work," Sam insisted, avoiding your gaze. "There was no one else. I was the only one who had work and essays left to correct."

You stepped closer, your heart pounding, your voice trembling. "Who were you with, Sam?" Tears threatened to spill over as you thought about all the nights she'd been late recently, all the missed dinners, and the growing distance between you.

You needed to hear her say it, to confirm the gnawing doubt that had been eating at you.

Her eyes flickered with panic, her facade starting to crack. The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension thick and suffocating.

She looked down, unable to meet your eyes.

"This girl I met it was nothing," she blurted out, her words rushed and desperate.

Your heart sank, the weight of her betrayal crashing over you. And without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped her across the face.

The slap wasn't hard, it didn't physically hurt her. She just felt the contact, her reaction one of pure shock. Her eyes widened more stunned by the act than the impact.

You were shaking so badly that the force behind the slap was minimal, driven more by your emotional turmoil than any physical strength.

Sam's expression shifted from shock to a mixture of guilt and sorrow, her shoulders slumping. She knew she deserved it.

Trying to calm yourself down, you took a deep breath, but your voice still quivered with anger. "Did you fuck her?"

You didn't care about the specifics—who the girl was or how Sam had met her. "Tell me, did you cheat on me?"

Sam's face was a mask of regret, her eyes pleading for understanding that you couldn't give. She took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but there was nothing that could make this right.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The silence stretched between you, heavy and oppressive.

Her shoulders slumped further, her body language betraying the truth before she even spoke. She took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but there was nothing that could make this right.

She nodded slowly, whispering, "Yes."

The single word struck you like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of your lungs. It was as if the ground had been pulled out from under you, and you were falling into a bottomless pit of despair. The room blurred as your eyes filled with tears.

A searing pain tore through your chest, unlike anything you had ever felt before. It wasn't just the pain of betrayal; it was the shattering of dreams, the destruction of trust, and the end of the future you had envisioned together. Your heart, which had once beat with love and joy, now felt like it was being ripped apart.

You turned around, walking away, your hands in your hair as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions. "Oh god, you make me sick," you almost screamed, the pain and anger tearing through your voice. The tears flowed freely now, blurring your vision as you tried to make sense of the reality that had been thrust upon you.

Sam's eyes followed your every movement, filled with regret but devoid of tears.

She had felt a gnawing disgust with herself both before and after sleeping with her. The guilt had been a constant companion, whispering in the back of her mind and tarnishing her thoughts.

But seeing the raw pain and heartbreak in your eyes now, the depth of your betrayal laid bare, was a torment far beyond anything she had imagined.

The reality of what she had done, the gravity of her actions, hit her with an overwhelming force. Her own self-loathing was nothing compared to the devastation she had caused you, and the weight of that realization made her feel truly sick to her core.

Yet she seemed unable to cry, as if knowing her tears would do nothing to soothe the hurt she had caused.

The tears continued to fall, each one a silent cry of your broken heart. You had given Sam everything, your love, your trust, your future; and she had thrown it all away. The realization was almost too much to bear, the pain so intense that it felt like you were being torn apart from the inside.

As you moved through the house, Sam followed, a sense of desperation in her steps. She knew she had to say something, anything, to try and fix the situation.

"Wait, please," Sam pleaded, her voice breaking. She reached out but didn't touch you, afraid her touch would only make things worse.

You walked into the living room, your mind racing, needing space to think, to breathe. Sam's presence was suffocating.

You began to pace, your movements erratic, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Sam stood a few feet away, wringing her hands. "It was one time," she began, her voice trembling. "And it meant absolutely nothing."

You stopped pacing but didn't turn to face her, your eyes filled with hurt and disbelief. The reality of her words only made the pain sharper, cutting deeper.

"It was a stupid thing, baby" she continued, her tone pleading for understanding. "Just a stupid thing." She repeated shortly after.

"I'm so sorry." Sam tried.

Her attempt at an apology only left a more bitter taste in your mouth.

How can she apologize when she had been keeping this hidden from you for weeks, months even?

Just then, Sam's phone buzzed, the sound cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. You glanced at the phone in her hand, a sudden, cold suspicion gripping you.

Without thinking, you reached out and snatched the phone from her. Sam's eyes widened in shock, but she didn't stop you. She knew she couldn't.

You looked at the screen, and there it was; a name you didn't recognize, but the message was clear: "Had a great time tonight. Can't wait to see you again." You read the message aloud, your voice dripping with disgust.

Sam's face crumpled, the regret etched deeply in her features. She stood there, the weight of her actions crashing down on her, unable to do anything but watch as the person she loved crumbled before her eyes.

Your heart sank, the final piece of evidence falling into place. You turned the phone towards her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Who is she?"

Sam's face paled, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear. "Her name is Lily," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Lily." You repeated.

"How old is she?" you demanded, your voice barely holding back the fury and disgust. The interest of who was worth ruining your whole future together growing.

Sam hesitated, avoiding your gaze. "Is she your colleague? Boss? Student? You've always liked them younger."

"Stop," Sam pleaded, her voice barely audible.

"How old is she, Sam?" you pushed, your desperation breaking through.

"Nineteen," Sam blurted out. "She's nineteen, alright?" The moment the words left her mouth, she seemed to regret it, her shoulders slumping further under the weight of her confession.

You felt a wave of nausea wash over you, threatening to make you sick. "She's nineteen, Sam? You slept with a fucking nineteen-year-old?" you screamed, the reality of her betrayal hitting you with full force.

She didn't answer, her silence only deepening the wound. She stood there, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and self-loathing, knowing that nothing she could say would make this right.

Sam had always been the most confident and strongest woman you had ever known. She had faced down her own demons and the judgment of the world, standing tall when people whispered about her being the daughter of a serial killer.

She had protected Tara fiercely, fought off threats both physical and emotional, and had always seemed unbreakable.

You remembered the times she had confronted dangers head-on, her bravery almost intimidating. The way she took charge during crises, her unwavering resolve, and the sheer force of her willpower. Sam had always been a rock, someone who never showed fear or doubt.

But now, as she stood before you, she looked scared. Her eyes, usually so steely and determined, were now wide and pleading. She seemed small, fragile, a stark contrast to the woman who had faced down killers and public scorn without flinching.

As you looked at her, you saw something you had never seen before—pity. Pity for herself, and maybe for you too. Her gaze was filled with it, and it made your heart ache even more. Sam had never felt pity for anyone before, not in the way you had seen.

She had always been the strong one, the protector. But now, she looked at you with eyes that seemed to say she was sorry for everything, for every ounce of pain she had caused.

Although her puppy eyes and guilty stare didn't help. In fact, it made you even more furious. And the rage was starting to boil over.

Your head felt like it was pounding, and you felt sick of the thought that Sam had let somebody else touch her. And you wanted to know why.

"What's so wrong with me then?" you technically shouted, your voice breaking. "Am I too old for you now?"

Sam flinched at your tone of voice, her eyes filling with tears, threatening to fall when she shook her head as soon as the question left your lips.

"No, it's not like that" she whispered.

"Does she have a better body?" You continued, voice breaking.

"No, Y/n please, it's not about that." Sam pleaded, but you were relentless.

"Did I not fuck you good enough?" you demanded, the hurt and anger making your voice tremble. "Is that it?"

Sam's face crumbled, and she shook her head desperately. "It wasn't about you. It was never about you"

"Then what is it, Samantha? What's so fucking special about her? Is she prettier than me?"

"No!" she replied as soon as the words left your lips, the answer immediate and forceful. Sam's eyes locked onto yours, filled with a raw honesty.

Your looks had always captivated Sam, from the way your eyes sparkled with emotion to the way your hair framed your face perfectly. She loved the way your smile could brighten a room, the way your presence brought her comfort.

You were everything she had ever dreamed of having in a partner when she was little, and she hoped you knew that.

She used to tell you all the time, to remind you how much you meant to her. But she had stopped when Lily started showing interest.

She wished more than anything that you could see yourself through her eyes, to understand the depth of her admiration and love for you. But now, as she stood there, seeing the heartbreak in your eyes, she realized she had ruined everything. Her betrayal had shattered the trust and love you had built together, and she feared she had lost any chance of you ever believing in her again.

"Liar!" you screamed, the fury in your voice reverberating through the room.

You knew something had pulled her to Sam, some inexplicable attraction that drew them together, but it only made the betrayal sting more. The knowledge that she had chosen someone else, even for a fleeting moment, was unbearable.

You pushed Sam, your hands hitting her shoulders with desperate force. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and regret. Her back hit the lamp on the drawer, the shade tilting precariously before falling to the side.

"What am I supposed to do now?" you demanded, pushing her again. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Each shove punctuated your words, your voice breaking with anguish. "You've ruined everything!"

Sam flinched with each push, her hands raised slightly as if to steady herself, but she didn't try to stop you. She knew she deserved every bit of your anger, every word of your pain. Her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed, her heart aching at the sight of your devastation.

"Will you listen to me, Y/n? It meant absolutely nothing!" Sam pleaded, her voice breaking as she tried to reach out to you.

You stopped pushing her, your hands trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of her words and the betrayal pressing down on you.

"Nothing?" you echoed, your voice filled with disbelief. "You slept with her. You were out with another woman all night. I'm pregnant, is that fucking nothing to you?"

"Yes! I mean, no," Sam stammered, her voice cracking under the pressure.

"How many times did you fuck her?" you demanded, your voice icy and resolute. "And don't you dare lie to me."

Sam's face went pale, her eyes pleading as if begging you to retract the question. She hesitated, her gaze flickering between you and the floor, clearly struggling with the weight of her confession. Each second felt like an eternity as she fought to keep her composure.

You remained silent, staring at her with a mixture of anger and heartbreak, your eyes unyielding. The room seemed to grow colder with the intensity of the moment, the air thick with tension.

Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, Sam looked up at you, her voice barely a whisper. "Three times," she said, her tone cracking with guilt.

You turned away, unable to bear the weight of her confession. Your heart felt like it was being crushed under a mountain of stress, shock, and disgust. "I think I'm going to throw up," you said, your voice barely a whisper as you walked toward the kitchen.

You needed to get away from Sam, to escape the suffocating reality of her betrayal. The sight of her was too much, her presence a painful reminder of the lies and broken trust.

But of course, she followed you, her footsteps echoing in the silence that hung heavy between you.

"But it didn't mean anything, baby," she rambled, her voice trembling with desperation.

"She made me realize I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that now." Her words tumbled out, as if saying them repeatedly would somehow make everything right.

You stopped just short of the kitchen entrance, turning to face her with a look of fierce anger and hurt.

"I'm five months pregnant, and you're already out trying to fuck other women!" you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions.

The words hung in the air.

Sam stood there in silence, the weight of her actions pressing down on her like a ton of bricks. She knew there was no justification, no excuse that could make this right.

The realization of what she had done washed over her, leaving her feeling hollow and regretful. She had always prided herself on being strong and confident, but now, faced with the consequences of her betrayal, she felt weak and powerless.

The sight of you, the person she loved and admired most, looking at her with such hurt and anger, made her stomach churn. She wanted to speak, to beg for your forgiveness, but the words caught in her throat, tangled in her guilt.

You stared at her, waiting for something—anything—that could make this less painful. But her silence only deepened the wound. "Fuck you, Sam. It's over."

You turned away from her, walking into the kitchen with a sense of finality. Sam followed, her voice trembling as she called your name. "Y/n..." she started, her tone almost pleading as if she couldn't believe this was happening. You walked further, needing to put distance between you and her.

"Get out right now," you commanded, turning around to face her, your voice filled with a quiet threat. "I'll tell you when you can come and get your shit. Maybe Lily can help you pack." You spat the girl's name like a curse, the mere sound of it making your skin crawl.

Your head was pounding, the pain intense and unrelenting, threatening to explode. The pressure of trying to hold back sobs was almost unbearable, and the anger in your voice was the only thing keeping you from breaking down completely. You stood there, trembling, every muscle in your body taut with the effort of keeping it together.

Sam took a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling but attempting to remain calm. "Y/n, we're having a baby together," she reasoned, her tone a poor mask for the panic bubbling beneath the surface.

She knew deep down that her words wouldn't reach you, that her calm facade was crumbling. Her mind was spiraling, grasping at any hope to salvage what was left.

You turned around sharply, your eyes blazing with anger. "No," you snapped, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. "I'm the one having this baby. I'm the pregnant one. Not you."

Sam opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off, your voice rising with each word.

"Get the fuck out, Sam, or I swear I'll call the police," you threatened, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. Sam's eyes widened with shock, and she took a step back, realizing the gravity of your words.

You didn't know what you would say to the police, or if you'd even call them to begin with, but you saw how she looked at you as if you were ready to do whatever it took to get her out of there, so she believed you would actually do it.

"Y/n, please..." she started, but the look in your eyes silenced her.

"Leave," you commanded, your voice steadier now, but no less fierce. "I can't stand the sight of you right now."

But when Sam didn't move, you realized you no longer had the strength to scream at her.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You needed her to understand, to listen to you just one last time. "Will you just get out, please?" you said, your tone softer now, almost pleading.

The exhaustion was overwhelming, making your limbs feel heavy and your vision blur at the edges.

You felt like you might faint from the sheer emotional toll of the confrontation. Sam hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness, but finding none.

With a resigned nod, she turned and walked out, leaving you standing there, the silence of the room pressing in on you, suffocating.

Your thoughts swirled in a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief. The betrayal felt like a raw, open wound, each memory of Sam's deceit a fresh stab to your heart.

The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in as if to suffocate the last remnants of your strength. You reached out for something to hold onto, trying to anchor yourself in a reality that felt increasingly surreal.

The silence now felt deafening, a stark contrast to the heated exchange that had just occurred. It was a silence that spoke of a fractured future, of dreams and trust irrevocably shattered.

When you two first met, Sam was the one who struggled to trust strangers or new people.

Now, you were the one left with the painful understanding that even those you've loved for years could betray you.

[gratelove]

The Man Behind the Dragon

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: sweet Aemond, kissing, fire

Your father is an ally to the throne, and while staying at King’s Landing, you have found yourself in love with the prince, but he fights an internal battle that will not allow him to show you how he truly feels.

The sun was beginning to set over King's Landing, casting a warm golden hue over the Red Keep. The bustling activities of the court had finally quieted, leaving a serene calm in its wake. In one of the castle's more secluded courtyards, you found a rare moment of peace. You sat on a stone bench, a book of poems in your hands, but your thoughts were far from the words on the pages.

"Aemond," you murmured, looking up at the sky. The prince had become a significant part of your life since your arrival in King's Landing. You were Lady Y/N, daughter of Lord Blackwood, an ally in the war. Your family was brought to King’s Landing to keep you safe while the Dance of the Dragons was just beginning. Being removed from your home had been difficult, but it didn’t take long for Aemond to calm that sorrow you had. Despite his fierce exterior and the heavy burdens he carried, you had seen glimpses of the man beneath the armor, and it was that man you had come to care for deeply.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Aemond Targaryen appeared at the entrance of the courtyard. He walked with his usual air of confidence, his silver hair shining in the fading light. When he saw you, a rare, genuine smile crossed his lips.

"Y/N," he greeted, his voice softening as he approached you. "I've been looking for you."

You closed your book and stood, your heart fluttering at his presence. "And now you've found me. How was the council meeting?"

Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tedious as always. Endless debates and posturing. I needed a break from the politics."

"Then you came to the right place," you said, a playful glint in your eyes. "I was just about to take a walk through the gardens. Care to join me?"

He nodded, offering his arm. "I'd like that."

You walked side by side, your steps synchronized as you made your way through the lush gardens. The flowers were in full bloom, their fragrances mingling in the air. You felt a sense of tranquility settle over you, a stark contrast to the chaos of the court.

"Aemond," you began, glancing up at him. "Do you ever think about what life would be like if you weren't a prince? If you didn't have all these responsibilities and expectations?"

He looked thoughtful, his gaze distant. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But it's a futile exercise. My duty is to my family and to the realm. I can't afford to indulge in such thoughts."

"But you're more than just a prince," you insisted. "You're a person with hopes and dreams, just like anyone else. You deserve happiness too."

He stopped walking and turned to face you, his expression serious. "And what about you, Y/N? What do you want from life?"

You hesitated, your eyes searching his. “I want to live a life that matters, to be with people who truly care about me. I want to leave this place having loved and been loved, I suppose.”

Aemond's eye softened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek. His hands were rough, and you could feel his callouses running over your skin. "You look so beautiful in this light,” he smiles down at you. Your stomach tightens as you pull your lip between your teeth.

"So do you," you returned his smile, your voice barely above a whisper. He let out a breathy laugh as he brushed your hair behind your ear. The man in front of you steals your breath away. He’s striking and furious. He’s not the monster everyone fears him to be. He is a shameless flirt when no one is around, even though he never makes any advancements. You wish he would, you pray to the gods that he would set his fears aside and be true to what he feels. You are suddenly aware that the smallest movement would fill the gap between you two, and you cannot stop thinking about what his lips would feel like on yours. To kiss him would be a dream come true. A dream you’ve had too many nights. “Aemond,” you breathe.

“Yes?”

“I want you to kiss me,” you say it so quiet that you’re not sure he heard you. Embarrassment starts to cloud your judgment as he just looks at you. “Aemond?”

For a moment, it seemed as though he might. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, your breaths mingling in the evening air. But then, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the spell, and Aemond pulled back, his walls snapping back into place.

"We should return to the Keep," he said, his voice suddenly distant. "It's getting late."

Your heart sank, but you forced a smile. "Of course."

As you walked back, the unspoken tension between you grew. You knew that Aemond's fears were not easily overcome, but you also knew that you couldn't continue to be kept at arm's length. Something had to give.

***

The fire crackled in Aemond's bedchamber, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The warmth of the flames did little to ease the chill in the room, a stark contrast to the tension that hung thick in the air. You stood near the hearth, your arms wrapped around yourself as if to ward off the cold that had settled in your heart.

Aemond Targaryen stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the night sky. His silver hair gleamed in the firelight, and his single eye was a storm of conflicting emotions. Meeting late in his chamber was a nightly occurrence, but tonight felt off. You were used to sneaking in here, crawling into his bed, and wrapping your arms around him until he fell asleep. Your presence made it easier for him. With you around, it’s as if the nightmare wouldn’t dare enter his dreams. Today’s earlier meeting consumed your thoughts. You felt stupid for making any type of advancement, but you also felt angered. You knew that he wanted you, needed you, but you knew he’d never allow himself to feel that way. Finally, you couldn’t stand the silence, the distance.

"Aemond," you began, your voice steady but filled with frustration. "We need to talk."

He turned to face you, his expression guarded. "What is it, Y/N?"

You took a step closer, your gaze unwavering. "I can't do this anymore. This... pretense. We both know there's something between us, but you refuse to admit it. Why?"

Aemond's jaw tightened, his eye narrowing. "You don't understand the pressures I face. The expectations."

"Don't patronize me," you snapped, your anger flaring. "I know what it's like to bear the weight of duty. But that doesn't mean you have to shut out everyone who cares about you."

"I cannot afford to be vulnerable," he replied, his voice harsh. "Not now, not ever."

"And you think I don't?" You countered, your frustration boiling over. "We all have our burdens, Aemond. But denying your feelings doesn't make them go away. It only makes them fester."

He took a step back, his hands clenched into fists. "Do you think it's that simple? That I can just open my heart and everything will be fine? I am a Targaryen, a dragon. I cannot afford to be weak.”

"Love isn't weakness," you said softly, your voice breaking. "It's strength. It's what gives us the courage to face our darkest fears. Why can't you see that?"

Aemond's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. But then, just as quickly, his mask of control snapped back into place. "You don't understand. If I let myself feel, if I let you in, it could destroy everything."

"Or it could save you," you whispered, tears filling your eyes. "Aemond, please. Let me in. Let me help you."

He turned away, his gaze hardening as he stared into the flames. "I can't. I won't."

Your heart shattered at his words, the finality in his tone. "Then you're a fool," you said, your voice trembling. "You're so afraid of being hurt that you're willing to throw away the one thing that could truly make you happy."

Aemond flinched as if struck, the truth of your words cutting deeper than any blade. For a moment, he looked as if he might reach out, as if he might finally let down his walls. But then he turned back to the fire, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Leave me. It's better this way."

You stood there for a moment, your heart breaking, before turning and walking toward the door. The room that had once felt like a sanctuary now felt like a prison, its warmth tainted by the pain of your confrontation.

As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at him one last time. "I hope you realize what you're giving up," you said, your voice filled with sorrow. "Because I can't keep fighting for someone who won't fight for himself."

With that, you left, the heavy door closing behind you with a finality that echoed through the chamber. Aemond stood by the fire, his chest heaving with the effort to keep his emotions in check. He had pushed away the one person who had seen through his mask, who had made him feel truly alive.

And in the silence of his bedchamber, he realized the depth of his mistake. For in trying to protect himself, he had lost the one thing that mattered most. Pride and fear kept him rooted in place, a dragon trapped in his own shadow, unable to reach for the light.

***

He was soaring high above Westeros, the cold wind biting at his face as he clung to saddle on Vhagar’s back. The dragon’s massive wings beat rhythmically, each stroke sending them higher into the stormy sky. Lightning flashed around them, illuminating the dark clouds and casting long shadows on the ground far below.

Aemond felt a surge of power and exhilaration as they flew, but it was quickly overshadowed by a growing sense of dread. He looked down and saw a figure standing alone in a clearing, their face upturned to the sky. It was you, your hair whipping around you in the fierce wind, your eyes filled with fear.

"Y/N!" he called out, his voice lost in the roar of the storm. He tried to steer Vhagar away, but the dragon seemed to have a mind of her own, diving toward the ground with terrifying speed.

"No!" Aemond shouted, panic rising in his chest. "Vhagar, stop!"

But the dragon did not heed his command. As they hurtled toward the earth, Aemond saw the flames beginning to gather in Vhagar's throat, a deadly inferno ready to be unleashed.

"Please, no!" he pleaded, his heart breaking. "Not her. Anyone but her."

The flames erupted from Vhagar's mouth, a torrent of fire that consumed everything in its path. Aemond watched in horror as the flames engulfed you, your scream of agony piercing the night. He reached out desperately, but it was too late. The fire swallowed you whole, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

Aemond screamed, a sound of pure anguish and despair. He felt the heat of the flames, the acrid smell of burning flesh, and the crushing weight of his guilt. He had killed you, the one person he loved, and there was nothing he could do to reverse it.

Aemond woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He sat up, gasping for breath, his mind struggling to separate the nightmare from reality. The room was dark, the only light coming from the dying embers of the fire.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. He reached for you, but you weren’t there. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, the nightmare still vivid in his mind.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, his body unsteady. He needed to see you, to make sure you were safe. He stumbled to the door and flung it open, his mind a whirlwind of fear and desperation.

Aemond made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. He reached your chambers and knocked urgently on the door.

"Y/N," he called out, his voice shaking. "Please, open the door."

After a moment, the door creaked open, and you stood before him, your eyes wide with concern. "Aemond, what is it? What's wrong?"

He reached out and pulled you into a tight embrace, his body trembling. "I... I had a nightmare," he confessed, his voice breaking. "I saw you... you were... I killed you."

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "It was just a dream, Aemond," you whispered soothingly. "I'm here. I'm safe."

He buried his face in your hair, the scent of jasmine calming his racing heart. "I can't lose you," he murmured. "I can't bear it."

"You won't," you promised. "You're not alone, Aemond."

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, the intensity of his emotions laid bare. "I love you, Y/N," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so afraid of losing you. I don’t want to hurt you. What if I-“

“Aemond,” you cut him off, not allowing him to speak his worst fear into existence. “I see the man behind the dragon, and I am not afraid.”Tears filled your eyes as you cupped his face in your hands. "I have never been afraid," you said, your voice steady. "And I won't let anything come between us. Not even your nightmares. I love you." A tear rolled down his cheek, his heart swelling at your words. He leaned in, letting his lips find yours. The kiss was passionate as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. Even with your bodies pressed together, it still wasn’t close enough for him. Your lips finally part and you both smile.

“Will you stay with me tonight,” he asks, his expression full of hope.

“Tonight and every night to come, my love.”

[in-this-crystal-kingdom]

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR SUFFERING GAME GRAPHIC NOVEL

Okay SO. Everyone has some thoughts on this one for sure as I have seen. A lot of people are saying they took a lot from Wonderland and that it's a disappointment as an adaptation but here's the thing: I have viewed the books as separate canon from the podcast since around Crystal Kingdom. I don't necessarily see it as a faithful adaptation but as a cool way to get more people into the story without giving EVERYTHING away in case they decide to listen. However, that being said, I have some things to say. I'm going to start with the negative first because even though I LOVED this book I so have some things I will miss about it (but please understand that I LOVED THE BOOK SM GUYS, I will ofc be adding what I loved after this part)

My Issues/Things I Wish Were Included:

Magnus trying to find his own answers with the voidfish. I was really looking forward to how they would show and represent that!

"I'm afraid no one else will have me" was such a good scene, I really liked the vulnerability Taako showed then because aside from his scene in Petals we haven't seen a whole lot of that from him in the books (again, I veiw the books as separate canon, but it would be nice to see)

CAM! I missed Cam so much he was delightful

No Boss Rush

I don't like that they basically forced Magus to decide if he wanted to lose Julia and never mention Gov. Kallen at all. That was such an impactful moment and they kind of side stepped it unfortunately

Trust or Forsake is missing which is also unfortunate

A lot of what made Wonderland interesting is either spedrun or absent so they kind of took the Wonder out of Wonderland

Taako giving up his beauty is also gone! Which sucks ass! My only true issue with this book that I genuinely was heartbroken over. I understand it can be a hard thing to show, especially when it runs the risk of someone in real life looking at the design and going "ow, that looks like me!'. So like. I get it. I really do. But they cut so much of Podcast!Taako's growth in Book!Taako's character that it was a sore spot for me personally.

If they let Johann live in the next book I will be very upset

SPEAKING OF NEXT BOOK!! Now that I have all my negative out of the way ohohoh boy I'm gonna share the positives I have with it. Given that, again, I view the books as separate story than the podcast, I thought they did a wonderful job overall. Solid 8/10 for me! Here are the things I am still screaming about

Things I adore about this book and will be living rent free in my head forever

TAAKO AND KRAVITZ KISS LIKE 5 PAGES IN AND I SCREAMED CAREY ATE WITH THAT

Merle's kids 😭😭😭

JOHANN IS ACKNOWLEDGED IN THIS ONE RAAAAAAAA I WAS SO WORRIED THEY WERE TRYING TO CUT HIM OUT

I love the redesign of Wonderland looking like a circus instead of a roulette wheel, I liked that a lot

Kravitz calling Taako to tell him to be safe,,, the call getting cut off,,,, pain

I loved the wheel it looked so cool

Edward and Lydia were giving Velvet and Veneer and I am HERE FOR IT

Heart Attack my beloved 🥰

ARMS OUTSTRETCHED!!!!!!!!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN TAAKO SAW KRAVITZ IN THE TAR??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE TRIED TO SAVE HIM?????? MCELROY FAMILY AND CAREY WHEN I GET YOU-

Seeing the umbra staff (*cough cough* Lup) BEAT THE SHIT out of Edward was lovely, no notes

HOW GRIFFIN DISAPPEARED!!! I WAS HOPING THEY WOULD DO THAT!!!

BLUEJEANS REVEAL

The Umbra Staff jumping into Barry's arms 😭😭😭

Taako having STATIC IN HIS EYES seeing the staff and Barry together CAREY PLEASE

MERLE SEEING JOHN, THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE

L U P SHE IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL I CRIED I AM SO GLAD THEY GAVE HER LONG HAIR TOO!!

GOD THE BOOK ENDED WHERE I WANTED IT TO AND THEN SOME ACTUALLY (I thought it would end with the line "Lucretia, what have you done???" BUT MAN I'M NOT MAD IT WENT ON A BIT LATER)

THE IPRE PAINTING. THEM. THEY. ALL OF THEM. I AM DYING. MY CROPS ARE WATERED AS SHIT.

[markantonys]

One thing that frustrates me to no end is the fandom's insistence that Rand has gotten no character development on the show or that he's the most underdeveloped character on the show. Like I just saw a tweet saying they're starting to hate the "it was about them all" quote from AMOL being used by Sarah and others involved with the show "to justify bad writing" cause "Rand desperately needs development" and "I never would've thought Rand was the main character if I hadn't read the books".

Like did we watch season 2 at all? Where we got to know Rand a lot better than we did in s1 and got to know him better and understand who he is at his core?

LITERALLY!!!!! genuinely, i think that when many (most?) of these people say "character development" they actually mean "power development" because the complaints are ALWAYS that rand "doesn't feel like The Main Character™" and that he "didn't get a big solo moment to show off his power", and not that his personality and characterization are underdeveloped. because they aren't! season 2 devoted so much time to showing who rand is as a person (as did s1, which did a great job of establishing the foundation of him; imo the take that making TDR's identity a mystery ~robbed rand of screentime/development~ is just not true) and how he's reacting to being a male channeler and how it's changing him and the way he approaches life, and, at the same time, how at his core he's still the same boy he was back in 1x01.

things we have learned about rand in the first 2 seasons: he's kind, he's selfless, he's self-sacrificial, he's stubborn, he's good at avoiding truths he doesn't want to acknowledge but will step up and acknowledge them once he realizes that other people's safety is at stake, he would do anything for his loved ones, he's terrified of hurting people, he's desperate to be loved, he's mild-mannered but snaps when pushed too far, he can hold a grudge but also has no problem apologizing for misjudging someone, he's responsible, he blames himself for everything, he's sensitive, he's emotional, he takes things personally, his greatest desire in life is to be cozy at home with his family, he tries so hard to cut love out of his life but he simply cannot do it because his heart is too damn big

and that is at LEAST as much as we'd seen of his characterization in the first 3 books alone, and in my opinion, far more

[devinescribe]

We become We

Sejanus Plinth x Reader

Based off of the song we become we from the musical the journey to Bethlehem. I’m not religious but it’s a bop

Warnings: arranged marriage but it’s Sej so it’s fluff

The Plinth family and the L/N family.

Two of the most powerful and richest families in the Capitol.

So it made perfect sense to them to arrange a marriage between their two children.

Sejanus, the Plinth’s only son, and Y/N, the L/N’s only daughter.

While the two didn’t dislike each other, it was awkward. They had moved into an lavish apartment together and getting used to being married was quite the adjustment.

Sejanus had been crushing on her since he moved to the Capitol. Of course, marrying the beautiful woman had been a dream. But in his dreams and imagination he asked you properly.

You had thought the Plinth boy was cute. At least he was sweet. He was thoughtful. And it was obvious he adored you even if you didn’t show him the same affection. It wasn’t as if you didn’t like him. But… you were scared.

What if you fell in love and it soured? You’d still have to remain married. You didn’t want to ruin him.

“Oh, let me get that,” he smiled, grabbing the book you had been reaching for.

You blushed.

That dopey grin he gave you was enough to make you melt every time.

“Thank you Sej… that’s very sweet of you,” you said as you both walked out of the office room.

His hand reached for yours and you instinctively pulled away. Softly you placed your hand in his as you two walked to the bedroom.

You sat on the bed. It was huge. Much too big. But you couldn’t ask Sejanus to get closer. You were too embarrassed.

You didn’t want to hurt him, but you hiding your feelings made him feel worse.

Instead of going to his side of the bed, he sat besides you.

“Can we… become we?” He asked shyly.

“What? What do you mean Sej?” You questioned, looking up at him.

Those eyes would make him melt no matter how long he stared into them.

“No longer known as just you and me, two separate lives now in unity… I know we’re stuck here together but, will this always be just an arrangement?”

You were shocked.

“I know… it’s dumb… but I’ve always liked you. And honestly being married to you has been a goal in my life… but only if you wanted to… our parents kind of screwed that up,” he muttered, fidgeting with his hands and the simple band that was on his finger.

The band that matched yours.

He wanted to… have a relationship? Why hadn’t he asked you out in Academy? You had always been caught staring at him and you wondered now why he didn’t talk to you.

“Can we become more than half of a union we're chosen for? Where I am your best half…” You asked, a blush adorning your face as you looked to the boy.

“And I am yours.”

“We’re stuck here forever… and hopefully not ending in estrangement…”

——

You hated these fancy galas. Your corset felt too tight, your heels uncomfortable, and your hair felt uncomfortable.

“You look absolutely beautiful…” he mumbled into your ear, offering his arm to you.

You took it and smiled.

“And you look so dashing…”

The night was filled with some of the richest people making comments and getting drunk.

You heard the band hired start to play a waltz and your eyes sparkled. Sejanus saw this and remembered the night he came home late, watching you dance a waltz by yourself in the living room.

“Care to dance?” He asked, extending a hand.

You smiled, one of the biggest and most genuine smiles he had seen you give in a while.

You grabbed his hand as he lead you to the floor, beginning the waltz with you.

It’s the step of faith we have to take sometimes

As you two danced across the ballroom you couldn’t help but notice how he looked at you. There was so much love and adoration in his eyes.

And you looked at him the same way in that moment.

“Will this always be just an arrangement?” You whispered to him.

“Well find out in time if we don’t break it… there’s no rush dear…” he whispered back, placing a kiss on your forehead.

——

At home, he helped loosen the corset, and take those uncomfortable heels off.

You sighed in relief as you changed into a silky nightgown. Getting into bed, you saw Sejanus already there.

Crawling through the sheets, you curled up next to him.

“Can mine become yours… combining our dreams without keeping score?” You whispered as he turned to face you.

He smiled sleepily and grabbed your hand.

“This will never work out without each other… I don’t want you to rush yourself into it because I mentioned it. I want you to be comfortable with it,” he whispered. “Now let’s get to be… you’re obviously sleep deprived if you want to cuddle up with me-“

“I’ve wanted to… it’s cold at night… just didn’t know how to ask,” you blurt out.

There’s a small silence before Sejanus laughs.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you hear the sound. It’s angelic.

He gently wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

You feel guilty. Someone as good as him deserved someone who was sure of their feelings. Well you were sure of your feelings, but you didn’t want to hurt him….

“Can we become we? Start a new line on this family tree…” he mumbled sleepily against your neck.

The idea was sweet. Having a family with Sejanus. He would be an amazing father. He was sweet and patient, loving and caring. You couldn’t help but let your mind drift to thoughts of this.

“Two hearts connected by one beat… your hand in mine… you’re to good for me. Too sweet. I don’t deserve you or how you are. I’ve been so scared to… let you in… I don’t… I don’t want us to fall in love and it be soured later in life-“ you started.

“I could never choose to love another,” he whispered, tracing patterns on the exposed skin on your arms, his touch sending goosebumps down your body.

“Maybe one day I could… learn to love you too,” you whispered, tears in your eyes.

“Take as long as you need… I’ll adore you today…” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Tomorrow.” A kiss pressed to your temple.

“And till my bones are reclaimed by the earth.” A kiss pressed to your hand.

“I will wait as long as you need. Because I love you, (Y/N) L/N.”

The silence in the room grew and you turned in his arms, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’ve always adored you… I thought that would make you pull away…” you mumbled. “I… I love you too… Sejanus Plinth…”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.5

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister Warnings: Lannister in*est, sibling in*est Words: 2129 Summary: You discover a dark family secret

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4    Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

At first he appeared utterly shocked at your presence. You knew he was probably told to stay quiet. Mismatched eyes scrunch in slight confusion as you stand in the doorway slightly out of breath. Fear seizes you; what if he didn’t recognize you? It would make sense since he was only around three when you left for Dragonstone.

You take a tentative step forward, allowing him time to register who you were.

Realization lights up his eyes. “(y/n)?”

You break out in a grin. “It’s so good to see you again Tyrion.”

His stunted legs struggle to run over to you but he manages well enough as you readily wrap your arms around him. Tyrion’s little shoulders tremble at your touch, probably the first hug he’s had in years. You make double sure to smother him against your chest and kiss his golden curls.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Whispering against the crown of his head you figure a boy his age didn’t like to be smothered in affection. But Tyrion wasn’t like other boys his age. He had been desperately starving for love and attention and still kept his short arms semi-wrapped around you.

The two of you stayed like that for quite some time. You didn’t bring up the fact that you heard him trying to contain his crying. You let him cry in your arms without any judgement. Just like you knew your own mother would have done. You knew Joanna would’ve loved Tyrion with every fiber of her being, no matter what he looked like.

“You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you.” You tell him once the two of you pull away and you pat his face clean with your sleeve.

Tyrion was doubtful about your statement. “Me? Grown?”

You nod. “The last time I saw you I could easily carry you in my arms. You’ve grown so much.”

That earns a smile from him. A smile that broke your heart because you saw how happy he was that someone showed genuine love for him. That you didn’t grimace at the sight of him. That you willingly kissed him and held him.

“I still have all your letters.” Admitting your smile begins to hurt your face. Not even noticing Ser Connington standing behind you in the doorway. Even if he was intruding on a sweet moment you didn’t even bother to notice him. The man was extremely loyal to Rhaegar and didn’t like you one bit. You saw the resentment in his eyes when you were in view or near his prince. To him you weren’t one to be trusted. You were a Lannister. Scheming and terrible like the rest of your family. Rhaegar didn’t know that you had heard the mean things Griff had said to you when the two of them thought they were alone. You would pass by and accidentally overhear Griff desperately trying to convince Rhaegar not to marry you. It hurt but you were already used to whispers about not only you but your family. Time at Casterly Rock had made you grow a thick skin. Insulting words like that slid off of you. Didn’t mean that you were immune to it though. Someone so close to Rhaegar hated you and was constantly trying to get you out of the picture. Rhaegar trusted this man immensely. He took Griff’s council on many occasions. That’s why it worried you that maybe Rhaegar would actually do what Ser Connington had been begging him to do. The wedding was so incredibly close, but there was still time for Rhaegar to change his mind and break your heart.

Excitedly, Tyrion goes to his trunk and pulls out a bundle of papers. “Me too! I keep every single one!”

The two of you sit on the floor and you cast a glance over your shoulder to the bored Griff who looked to want to be anywhere but there. “Go if you like. I will be here with my brother for a while.”

He didn’t even like it when you spoke to him. He pushes off the frame of the door. “My prince instructed me to watch you.”

“Your prince will understand. Leave us.” Waving him off, not even bothering to wait and see if he left, you return your attention to your brother as the two of you began to share letters.

“He’s so smart Rhaegar! I can’t believe his vocabulary and all the things he knows!” Gushing about your little brother you sit on the edge of Rhaegar’s bed as he’s preparing himself for dinner. You had already gotten ready and wanted to spend time with him and brag about Tyrion. “If only father weren’t so narrow minded, Tyrion would make a great Lord of Casterly Rock. You should talk to him, I’m sure the two of you would get along quite well! Engage each other with poetry and history. He speaks like a grown man!”

You notice him staring at you with a warm smile that always made the butterflies in your stomach turn into buzzing bees. Heart skipping multiple beats as you drown in his beautiful smile.

Blushing you clam up. “Wh-What?”

His lips part to reveal perfectly white teeth. “You’re just so lovely when you’re happy.”

In front of him you shrink up and internally scream your love for him. Rhaegar continued to catch you off guard with his incredibly sweet words. It made you fall for him even more. Not that you weren’t already head over heels in love with him. Hell, every time he showered you with any kind of nice words you were pretty sure your vision turned all rosey.

Mumbling a quick thank you you avert your eyes from him, knowing all too well that your face was bright red. “I am happy. . . After so long I finally get to see Tyrion. I just hate how my father keeps him locked up like he’s something that shouldn’t see the light of day.”

Rhaegar’s brows furrow. “I told him-no- ordered him to have Tyrion present during the ceremony.”

Gratefully you beam up at him. Your sweet prince. Rhaegar had the kindest heart. More than both his father and younger brother Viserys. Viserys had grown up a brat, coddled by his crazy father who worried over the young boy’s safety far too much. Aerys doted on Viserys and you partially feared that he would decide to make Viserys his heir and future king rather than Rhaegar. You dread to think about a Westeros ruled by Viserys.

“I bet that definitely didn’t make my father happy.”

“Probably put him in a more sour mood I reckon.” He shrugs his broad shoulders and smoothes out the fabric of his red and black tunic; the dark colors contrasted greatly with his fair skin and silvery hair. “How do I look?”

Handsome. Devastatingly handsome.

You press your lips together. “Wonderful. As usual.”

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he holds out an elegant hand for you to take. Your fingertips brush against the skin of his palm and immediately you feel his warmth shoot through you.

You were doomed around him. A mouse devoured by a dragon.

*

He pushed her up against the wall and let his hands pull up the skirt of her dress so his hand could travel up her beautifully sculpted legs and to her womanhood that radiated heat. Cersei’s heavy breathing collected with his to provide the only sound in the abandoned hall. All through dinner he had to restrain himself from bending his sister over and fucking her on the table in front of everyone. Which sister, that was the question. The question that he could only come up with Cersei as the answer to.

Cersei supports herself against the wall with her forearms and presses her superb ass against Jaime’s crotch that already had a nicely erected tent.

“I have been waiting so long.” Cersei hisses, her nails raking against the stone and mortar that composed the wall she was pressed against.

Yes, Jaime had waited long for this moment too. To bury himself inside of Cersei. To remind himself that he only loved Cersei. There couldn’t be any other woman except for his twin. He would reaffirm it right now.

One hand delved between her thighs and the other pulling down his trousers, Jaime leaned his forehead against Cersei’s back. He spread her legs and flipped up her dress before plowing himself into her. He feels her tighten around his cock as she simpers. This was where he belonged. Cersei was the only woman he was meant to be with.

As he closed his eyes though, rhythmically pounding into her, he remembered (y/n) in her wedding dress. The way the bodice pushed up her breasts and gave Jaime a peek of her cleavage. How beautiful she looked when she twirled around to smile at him. It made Jaime moan as he felt the swelling of his cock become unbearable. He wondered what (y/n) would sound like if he were to fuck her. He could practically hear her shy mewlings. Jaime kept the image with him as he continued to thrust into Cersei.

*

Dinner would have been overly wonderful had it not been for certain members of the Lannister and Targaryen families glaring daggers at one another. Cersei continuing to glare at you, Ser Connington giving both you and your entire family the stink eye, your father at Rhaegar and your fiance returning the favor ten fold. Had Aerys been there you were sure it would have been ten times worse. Small miracles you supposed. Jaime had surprisingly been allowed to attend dinner; you hadn’t thought Aerys to be so generous. You figured he would’ve wanted to dangle Jaime in your father’s face. Further shame his ex-Hand. Jaime was seated on the Targaryen side of the table though. You didn’t think Tywin could frown even deeper than he already had been but you were proven wrong when Jaime took a seat on the other side of the table. Poor Tyrion was stuck between Tywin and Cersei who both tried their best not to look at the young boy. There were a few japes made Tyrion’s way by not only some members of the Lannister family but from some of Aerys’ vassals as well. Your heart wept for him and Rhaegar could only do so much to keep everyone civil. Maybe he could control their tongues but not their eyes. Mean spirited eyes that drilled into Tyrion and made him slouch in his seat even more. Tywin had one of the maids take his youngest son back to his room halfway through dinner. He had obliged to Rhaegar’s request, but Rhaegar hadn’t said how long Tyrion was to be present. You finished your own meal quickly and excused yourself to go join Tyrion and keep him company. He had been a little misty eyed but much like you he had developed thick skin.

Growing late and you yourself being quite tired, you bid Tyrion a goodnight and kissed his forehead before leaving.

The halls were dark except for a weak light that was offered by the torches mounted on the walls to lead the way. You grew somewhat disoriented as the corridors twisted and offered turns you hadn’t expected to be there. You squint your eyes and try to make sense of the darkness. You were lost.

Silently you curse to yourself. What would Rhaegar think of you if he were to find out that you allowed yourself to get lost in the Red Keep. He would probably think you a silly girl, a dim girl. Even a mouse was probably brighter than you.

It wasn’t until you heard voices that you picked up speed. Maybe someone could help you and hopefully not say anything about you getting lost. As you drew closer though you realized the voices weren’t. . . Well, they didn’t sound right. They were out of breath and panting along with a resound smacking noise. You felt uneasy as you stopped. A woman whimpered as a man grunted. Tentatively you inch forward, unsure of yourself and whether you wanted help anymore.

Dim light cast a gentle glow upon the two figures. The shadows nearly made it impossible to decipher any exact features but when you spied golden hair you knew.

It was Jaime and Cersei. That was undeniable.

You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away, they were glued in horror at the act. It all made sense though. Why Jaime always liked Cersei more than you.

You stumble backwards, thankful that you didn’t make a sound as you booked it in the opposite direction. You felt your dinner begin to rise in your stomach.

[atommadly]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐀𝐔) | pt. 7

Pairing: CEO!Harry Wells x Intern!Reader Warnings: Toxic family dynamics, threats and intimidation

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺'𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

After that night, it was as if a storm had finally passed, and the sun emerged brighter than ever. Everything seemed to return to the way it had been before, only stronger. Harrison made a silent promise to himself that he would never, ever let you doubt his love for you again. He was determined to show you every single day just how much you meant to him.

And he did. In every look, every touch, every small gesture, his love was there. You could feel it in the way he always made sure your coffee was just the right temperature, with the perfect amount of sugar, before you even had to ask. You saw it in the way he gently tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear when you were lost in thought. And it was in the way he would pause mid-conversation, staring at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, before he smiled and went on like nothing had happened.

One evening, after a long day at work, Harrison came home with a mischievous grin. You were curled up on the couch, reading, but you set the book aside when you saw him standing in the doorway, holding something behind his back.

“What are you up to?” you asked, narrowing your eyes but unable to hide your smile.

“I realized something today,” he said, stepping closer. “We’ve been so caught up in work, in everything... I think we deserve a little fun tonight.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he revealed what he had been hiding—a blanket and a small picnic basket.

“A picnic? Indoors?” you laughed, glancing out the window where the night sky was already pitch black.

“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “I’ve cleared the living room floor, set everything up. All that’s missing is you.”

He led you to the center of the room, where he’d spread out the blanket surrounded by fairy lights that twinkled like tiny stars. The basket was packed with snacks, a bottle of wine, and even a small dessert.

The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor, eating, drinking, and laughing as you talked about everything and nothing. He told you about some ridiculous mishap at work, and you shared a funny memory from your childhood that had him in stitches.

At one point, he leaned back on his hands, gazing at you with that familiar softness in his eyes. “You know,” he said, his voice low and warm, “this is my favorite version of you. Relaxed, happy... just you.”

You blushed, reaching out to lightly swat his arm. “You’re too much, you know that?”

“Never,” he said, catching your hand and pulling you toward him. You ended up lying beside him on the blanket, your head resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

In the quiet of the evening, you felt completely at peace. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear, the warmth of his arms around you, the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your shoulder—it was all perfect.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile soft and genuine. “I love you too.”

The problem was that it had now been almost six months since you and Harrison had started dating, and your relationship was still a secret. That indoor picnic was just another reminder. Harrison didn’t want anyone to know. He could have taken you to a restaurant or the movies, but everything you did together was confined to the safety of his home, far from prying eyes.

A few days later, as you sat across from him during breakfast in his sleek, modern kitchen, the thought that had been weighing on you finally spilled out.

"Maybe we could go out for dinner after work?" you suggested, trying to keep your tone light and casual.

Harrison looked up briefly, startled by the idea. "Oh, uh... I’d rather we just come home instead," he replied, stirring the milk into his coffee with a bit too much focus.

There it was again, another dodge. You sighed softly, setting down your mug. "You know," you began gently but firmly, "we can’t stay home forever. I want us to go out together, to do things as a couple—officially."

Harrison froze, his hand lingering on the spoon in his cup. He didn’t meet your eyes, which only confirmed what you feared.

He knew this conversation had been coming. He knew you wanted to take the next step, to stop hiding, and truthfully, he wanted it too. The thought of holding your hand as you walked into a restaurant, introducing you to the world as the love of his life, filled him with pride and longing. But then, the echo of his father’s warning crept back into his mind, sharp and cold like a blade.

“I care enough to warn you. To stop you before you ruin everything for a fleeting infatuation. Love doesn’t matter in this world, Harrison. Power does. Influence. Control. And she has none of those things.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the swirling milk in his coffee. "It’s not that I don’t want to, I just... it’s complicated," he finally muttered.

"Complicated how?" you pressed, your tone still calm but laced with disappointment. "If you want to be with me, what’s the problem?"

Harrison stood abruptly, walking away from the table to dump his unfinished coffee into the sink. His back was turned to you as you sat, feeling more confused and frustrated by the second. You stood too, the distance between you only growing with every moment of silence. Something was building, something that felt like it might explode if the tension wasn’t released.

"Talk to me, Harrison!" you demanded, unable to hold back the heat in your voice. "What’s so complicated? Why can’t we just be together without hiding? Is it because of me? Is it because of who I am?"

He froze, his hands gripping the edge of the sink. Then, turning around, he finally met your gaze. His face was flushed with anger, but it wasn’t at you. It was at the situation. "No!" he shouted, his voice sharp. "It has nothing to do with you, okay? It’s not about you, it’s about... everything else!"

You stood there, stunned. The hurt in his eyes mixed with frustration. "Then what is it?" you asked, desperate for answers. "Why won’t you make us official? What’s holding you back?"

Harrison let out a frustrated growl, and for the first time, he didn’t try to hide the emotions swirling inside him. His face crumbled, and he finally admitted, "I talked to my father."

Your heart skipped a beat. You had never heard him mention his father before, and you knew this wasn’t just about any ordinary conversation. Harrison had always kept that part of his life so guarded, as if it was a vulnerable spot he couldn’t bear to expose.

The words hung in the air between you, and you stood frozen, waiting for him to continue.

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "My father... he controls everything. My life, my future, my business. He’s the one pulling the strings. And he saw us, saw that I was in love with you," Harrison’s voice cracked as he said it. "He didn’t like it. He... he tried to tell me to break up with you, to walk away from this."

The shock hit you like a punch to the gut. You stood there, unable to find words for a moment. His father. Everything about his family had always been a mystery to you, but this? This was something else entirely.

Harrison continued, the words rushing out now, desperate and raw. "I refused. I told him I wouldn’t do it. But... I’m scared, okay?" His voice broke on the last word. "I’m scared of what he’ll do. He’s a powerful man, and if he finds out that I’ve defied him... if he knows I’m still with you, I’m afraid he’ll hurt you."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. Harrison was afraid—afraid of the same man who had manipulated and controlled every aspect of his life. And now, Harrison feared for your safety, for your well-being.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his eyes brimming with regret. "I never wanted you to feel like I was ashamed of you, because I’m not. I just... I want to protect you. And right now, staying secret is the only way I can do that."

You stood there, overwhelmed with emotion. The weight of his confession pressed on your chest. He had been carrying all of this alone, keeping his fear and guilt inside, and you had never known.

You stood there, your mind swirling with anger and hurt. The raw truth of Harrison’s words had hit you harder than you expected. He had been hiding behind his fear of his father, trying to protect you by keeping your love a secret. But his confession only made you feel more lost—more helpless, as if the walls between you were closing in again.

“So we’re supposed to hide forever? Pretend we’re nothing?”

He looked at you, his expression a mix of desperation and vulnerability, his shoulders tense. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with guilt. “You don’t understand. My father... he’ll ruin everything for you. He’ll destroy you just because you’re with me.”

The anger burned in your chest, but you refused to lash out. You could feel the pain in his voice, the fear he had been carrying all this time. It wasn’t about you—it was about his need to shield you from the wrath of a man who controlled every aspect of his life.

You stepped forward, your hands trembling as you reached for him, placing them on his arms. The warmth of his skin beneath your fingers grounded you. “I do understand,” you said softly, your voice gentler now. “But hiding forever... living in fear of what might happen—it’s not living at all, Harrison. And it’s not fair to either of us.”

His face crumpled with the weight of everything he had been keeping inside. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, his voice breaking. "I just want to keep you safe. I don't know if I can protect you if the truth comes out. My father has too much power."

Your heart ached for him, for the man who had always been so strong, yet was now broken by the control his father had over him. You stepped closer, closing the space between you, and cupped his face in your hands. His eyes were wide with fear, with a mixture of hopelessness, but you could still see the love in them.

“I know you're scared,” you whispered, your thumb gently brushing his cheek. "But hiding from it isn’t the answer. I don’t need you to protect me from the world—I just need you to be with me. Truly be with me."

He closed his eyes, his breath shaky. He couldn’t look at you, not like this. It was as if everything he feared was swirling around him, suffocating him.

"You have no idea how much I want to be open with you," he whispered, his voice raw. "But I can't stand the thought of losing you... or worse, putting you in danger because of my choices."

You exhaled slowly, your own emotions churning as you processed everything. “But hiding—” You paused, searching for the right words. "Hiding is just another kind of losing. Maybe not today, but eventually. We can’t live like that, Harrison."

You saw him nod slightly, his eyes filled with anguish. He had always been so determined to protect you, to protect what you had. But now, it seemed like the hardest thing for him to do was allow himself to take the risk of loving you fully, without fear.

You reached up, wiping away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. His walls were breaking down, but it wasn’t easy for him. It would never be easy with the pressure of his father looming over him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harrison,” you murmured. “I’ll stand by you, no matter what comes. But we can’t keep pretending, not forever. We’ll find a way through this together.”

His eyes met yours, filled with a quiet desperation, but also a flicker of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to fight for the love between you. You could see how much he wanted to be free of the fear, to choose you without looking over his shoulder.

You pulled him into your arms, holding him tightly, as if you could both erase the distance, the fear, the secrecy with just the power of your touch. "I’m not going anywhere, Harrison. I’m right here."

And for the first time in a long while, Harrison let himself lean into you, allowing himself to feel the weight of your love, your promise. The silence between you was heavy, but it was filled with something new: an understanding that no matter what, you would face it together.

Taglist:

@gabriella-aesthetic

[inawearyworld]

musings re: wren and the wash crew

(not entirely sure how much time passed within that ynhclt montage, but if it’s enough time for wonka’s chocolate to get super popular, it’s enough time for one disillusioned trophy wife to become a solid part of a found family dynamic)

noodle

• the second the events of chapter iii were over, willy went straight to noodle to make sure she was safe and tell her all about their new ally on the way back to scrubbit’s

• in response he received a flat-out “so, you like her,” followed by a few moments in which the only sound came from the cart he was sitting in as it rolled over the cobblestone streets.

• “…huh?”

• “she’s like the birds we saw tonight, like you said, willy. they want to be free, they just need to see that it’s possible.”

• “that’s what i think too.”

• “and you definitely like her.”

• “…huh.”

• anyway wren absolutely adores her

• the three have this oddly delicate thing going on at first-like the way a younger sibling would react when their older one has their first relationship-but it becomes easier over time bc each of them are sort of all the others have

• she sneaks books from felix’s library, which was mostly used for show before she moved in with him, and brings them to noodle

• and then they talk about what they thought, it’s like a little mini book club

• wren would do just about anything for this girl

lottie

• immediate besties

• Girls With Big Sad Eyes™️ solidarity

• they get lunch together all the time following the events of the plot

• and they go on walks and picnics and stuff and are generally adorable

• each of these little dates breaks the previous one’s record for The GabFest Of The Century

• lottie let wren borrow one of her very few outfits while they were hiding her from scrubbit and she repays the favor by giving her half the clothes in her overfilled wardrobe (the result of two straight years of really, felix, i’m sure i don’t need anoth-yes, i know it’s my responsibility to look-this money could really be-i mean, don’t you think we should use what we have to help the p-sorry, my love, i just meant to say-)

• lottie hums folk songs to herself every so often, and every so often wren joins in on a higher harmony; it’s quiet and simple and beautiful

piper

• as luck would have it, wren’s family back home owned a laundry, so the second she takes her first steps into scrubbit’s washroom (willy had told her of their plight by now) she takes on as much work as she can

• in walks the crew, watching stunned as this woman throws off her hat and gloves and blazer and scrub scrubs with the best of em

• completely focused, she doesn’t even notice people coming in until she hears from behind a bemused “oh, the power of privileged guilt”

• she turns and smiles and pushes her hair out of her face. “hi, i’m wren.”

• the woman she’s facing studies her for a moment, then smiles a little, accepts her very soapy handshake, and the rest is history

• before meeting wren, she thought regarding willy’s stories that this actress was just a planted spy he was naive enough to fall for

• but piper benz is very good at reading people, and she sees that this out-of-breath, smudged-makeup, poised-yet-awkward woman is nothing but genuine. as for wren, she thinks piper is the coolest person she’s ever met.

• their minds are on exactly the same level. when i say the banter is OFF THE CHARTS.

• these women would do anything to protect each other and i’m so sure that piper was a big part of wren coming into her own

• i wanna meet natasha so bad you guys

abacus

• similarly to piper, he didn’t trust her immediately, due to her association with the chocolate cartel

• he is, however, a fan of opera (and they eventually bounce references and snippets of melody off each other all the time)

• once she’s been working with them a while, once a foundation has been built, he confesses that he was disheartened to hear of her marriage-that he knew what they’d want with her, that she deserved better, that he “wished the cartel’s schemings hadn’t claimed such a talent”

• this is touching to her, and she apologizes for not doing more to stop them earlier, then tries to explain

• “i think…i think i used to, at least partially, let myself get swept up. both in naïveté and necessity.”

• he’s quiet for a moment.

• “yes. anything for family, of course.”

• she nods, and he continues:

• “i’m the same way.”

• #GiveTheWashCrewMoreTenderMoments2k24

larry

• the weird fellow-ginger-and-theatre-kid cousin she never had

• she and willy are the new kids, the ones who haven’t heard all of his material, and he for one is delighted with these new ears to practice on

• she helps him get his career back off the ground once they’re all free

• every once in a while you’ll turn the corner to find those two deep in conversation about some facet of the arts or other

• then he’ll turn around and twirl his bowtie and you’ll wonder if it was even the same man

• they trade vocal warmup ideas

• not knowing what else to do, he makes a few terrible jokes at fickelgruber’s expense to cheer her up after the events of chapter iv

• and, despite herself, she laughs

willy

• they often stay up for hours and hours, one carding their fingers through the other’s hair, talking in the dark about their dreams and ideas and random facts and memories and whatever pops into their heads

• she writes him songs and he thinks it’s the best thing in the world

• he simply refuses to involve her in a single bit of his advertising, to exploit her in the same way felix did. but he hangs up posters for her shows all over his shop. they’re so proud of each other

• they dance together. a lot. so much.

• mostly waltzes.

• after months of inner guilt over her dreams of his chocolate-dot freckles, wren can barely believe that she now gets to kiss them and kiss them until she has the whole constellation of his face committed to memory

• they’re so ridiculously in love

anyway. THEY ALL LOVE EACH OTHER AND DEFINITELY KEEP IN TOUCH AFTER THE MOVIE.

FOUND FAMILY. *drops mic*

[thebroccolination]

I saw you mentioned Queer As Folks recently. OMG how I missed Brian and Justin. When they went angst, they reeeeeaaaally served angst. I seriously don't have access to watch the entire series in my country, I can only watch snippets from youtube. I'm so sad 😭 Can you share with me what you like most about QaF and maybe if you have your favorite Ao3 fics about them. Thank you so much, Key ❤

Aaahhh, Anon!

You've unsurfaced some deep memories.

Okay, I just finished writing the thesis below. I'm back from the future. A lot of what you're about to read is pure emotion, so I apologize that it's not, uh. Well structured or especially rational. Queer as Folk was very formative for me, so my thoughts on it are very formless. \:D/

•

I watched Queer as Folk in high school, and it was a core experience. I vaguely remember writing Brian/Justin fic, but I think I mainly just read, and unfortunately, all of the fic I read was on LiveJournal, so I have no idea how to find it anymore. I'm really, really bad with names and titles, so I'd really only know them if I saw them again. :')

I have hot takes, though!

As far as fandom goes, the US version was phenomenal. So much fic. So much fic, and I loved it so much. The fanvids, the art, the meta, etc. It was such a great fandom.

BUT as a show, I preferred the UK version. I thought it was better crafted, the story and characters felt a lot stronger, and the dialogue was fantastic. It felt more inclusive in every way, and it had this…cozy warmth to it. Even at his worst, Stuart is nowhere near as much of a menace as Brian, and I think that's because he has Vince, and Brian has Michael.

(I didn't like Michael. At all. \:D/ The actor is lovely! I just regularly pined for the character to be pushed through a nineteenth floor window and then get stepped on by an elephant tourist visiting family at the Pittsburgh Zoo.)

The US version also screamed Written by White Cis Gay Men Who Held a Weird Grudge Against Lesbians and Didn't Believe Bisexuality Is Real. I was a "definitely straight except for that one time and that other time and that other other time I had suspiciously queer thoughts and also argued a shade too passionately about queer rights at the dinner table" teenager, and while I loved Brian and Justin as a ship, the UK version made me feel like I could find friends who'd feel like family one day. (And it came true, and they're queer, too.)

I think of the US version of Queer as Folk as fandom fodder. After every episode, I'd dive into LiveJournal, read fics, meta, look up fanvids, etc. I learned so much from Elder Queers who talked about safe sex and the importance of getting tested and all the things either referenced in the show or totally ignored that Elder Queers were like, "This was ignored but if you're ever in Justin's situation, here is what you do, please promise you'll do this."

The UK version is the one I rewatch when I want to revisit that warm, safe feeling.

And it'll always fuck my brain up that the US showrunners of Queer as Folk watched Stuart fuck a fifteen-year-old that was blatantly framed as "this is a bad thing, Stuart is doing a bad thing, everyone is aware that this is a bad thing, this is very bad, Stuart" and thought, "Okay, the bad thing is that he's fifteen, so let's age him up to seventeen and make him the love interest instead of the best friend who's the same age."

MIND. BLOWN.

I mean, it explains why Michael's all [evocative hand gestures]. His English counterpart actually ended up with his hot Irish best friend. And, like, Vince is obsessed with Dr. Who, so they gave Michael comic books? Like? Why not Star Trek? And he's obsessed with Brian and has the same soul-destroying crush that Vince has on Stuart, but there's a point to Vince's crush on Stuart the point is that they end up together and Nathan is a high school boy who is genuinely meant to be a blip on the radar in the background of their story.

It's been long enough that I don't hate Michael anymore, I'm just still fascinated by CowLip's bizarre story decisions.

Here's how I'll summarize my complicated relationship with the US version of Queer as Folk:

Season five was an insult to me personally, and I never watched the last episode. That stupid ending reversed all five seasons of Brian's character arc and landed him exactly where he was in the first episode, only multiple years older. And CowLip talked about it like it was brilliant and not a pathological misunderstanding of how storytelling is meant to operate to connect with audiences.

But.

I remember watching the Babylon bombing episode. Viscerally. I was staying at my sister's house, and I waited until everyone fell asleep. I snuck into their home office to watch the episode on their computer because I kept all queer media I watched secret from everyone in my very conservative family. I turned the volume down to one bar, kept the lights off, and held my shallow breath whenever the house made any kind of noise. Because Brian had never said "I love you" before, and this was it, because he thought Justin would be one of those corpses rolled out on a gurney from the club where they met, where their friends and family all gathered, the only place they felt safe being gay.

And many years later, when something similar happened far, far away at Pulse in Orlando, a memory surfaced of secretly watching an episode about love and desperation and grief. Of feeling caged inside a sexuality prescribed to me. And it was the first time I came out on social media.

Because it was a ridiculous show in some ways, and a terribly written one sometimes, but I think it also cut to the quick for many of us who just…didn't have anything else. We didn't have many options back then, and the fandom was massive, and it nudged me a little closer to understanding who I am and who I love.

[danger-noodle-uwu]

I'm new to tumblr so is this how you do request? May I request the brothers forgetting mc's birthday and later remembering it. How would they react? Maybe they were busy or something. Your choice if you wanna do the dateables too.

Trigger warning

Mentions of Angst/sad/slight comfort

Lucifer

Busy almost all the time, the first-born barely spent time with our dear Mc. He would try to finish the work only for more to be slammed on his desk.

Never would his brothers acknowledge his efforts or the sacrifices he made for them. Instead they'd mock him. Mock him for being absent at all family times. Mock him for doing what he does.

It was once again such a time, such a day. They didn't bother to care what the day has held for his beloved. It was their birth.

The birth of the one who truly changed his life along with his brothers. It was such a blessing yet he forgot about it. Entirely.

The Avatar of pride was strong, Lucifer wasn't. He was weak. Vulnerable. Especially against his brothers whom he adored with his entire being.

And the mocking words had stabbed him deeply, which made his current state as to how it was. Drunk. Wounded. Crying.

Rubbing his eyes, he awoke to a mess of his office which screamed the need for cleanliness.

During the process, he found the calender. A sweet calender gifted him by his doll.

A smile had crept on his face as he lifted it for what? Perhaps to calm the unsettling feeling in his bones that told him to run but where he didn't know?

While their lover was, Mc wilted much like a delicate flower would if the sun stopped shinning, they were laying curled on the floor of his room. Mc needed him.

How could he forget his own lover's birthday?! even after he promised... it hurts.. so much...

Yesterday. The poor human cut the cake wished themselves a happy birthday when he didn't...crying...in pain...

The realization hit hard. He ran to Mc's room as fast as he could. A shiver ran his spine and the horror in his stomach grew as each and every step was taken.

Yet could not find them, so he went over to his office expecting a fuming Mc.

He was once again not right, for his beloved was breaking down as he took them into his arms. Consoling.

He apologised and comforted them. Reassuring them over and over again. Reminding them his heart still is with them and no-could ever take it away.

He later threw a party, just like how you wanted. You. Him. And the growing fragrance of the candles surrounding you both.

Though late as it may have been, it was the best birthday the innocent human had. Smiling while he kissed your knuckles, he asked for your hand in marriage.

Never had you expected this...

"I Found the reason for my smile, the day I found you. Will you let me be the reason for your smile and marry me, my love?"

Mammon

As most had expected, he forgot your birthday due to witches or the modeling gig, he did not.

Instead he forgot about preparing your birthday gifts. His excitement had always gotten the best of him.

The Avatar of greed did not have enough budget to prepare the gift you dearly wished for, therefore multiple part-time jobs and skipping RAD became more often.

Despite the scolding, he didn't bother and worked on, just imagining the smile you'd make once you saw what he got you.

''I'll make Mc smile. Just one more hour extra and the budget would be*chef's kiss* '' he thought as his co-workers packed their belongings up.

It was late night and the moons shined brightly over the streets of devildom however he wasn't much worried because it was not like your birthday the next day. (it was)

Stretching his arms, he woke up around 1:35 pm due to his fucked up sleep schedule, only to be greeted by your excited figure cuddling him.

Grey-haired demon thought it was the Delirium before the day itself. He was wrong.

At first he acted totally oblivious to the fact any special day was just around the corner. He knew that surprises even more better!!

And then your great mammon ignored you for a while to rid of the risk of you following him to the destination.

Though his plan was to get your hopes down, he ended up making you cry. It hurts a lot especially when the love of your life forgets your birthday afterall you gave him everything he wanted on his.

The visit was successful. He even had extras left to treat you!!!

The was big achievement for someone who hated working to the slightest, to work for 3 weeks and multiple jobs!!!

But before he left, the seller mocked him about being a damned day late for this gift could have been sold at a better price if not booked.

That is when it all clicked and he panicked. Today was your birthday! Oh shit!!

He rushed home back to you. As he ran, he planned how to ask for your forgiveness.

" Oi Mc I'm sorry!--Oh hell no!!" "Mc I fucked I am sorry, please forgive afterall I'm your first man.--fuck this shit imma just play smooth."

Panting, he paused right before the door of your room and knocked lightly. Seeking your permission to enter.

You lazily opened the door for him, tired after shedding many tears for him.

Mammon instantly knew what to do. "Oi Mc I'm sorry for not wishing ya' a happy birthday earlier but I was busy buyin you somethin', here darlin' close your eyes."

Hearing his apology, you felt oddly happy and followed his request. Soon you felt a soft cold metal cling to your wrist. A bracelet, huh.?

"Open y'er eyes, human." On your wrist was bracelet that said 'His human' and another matching one was on his wrist which said 'Their stupid' . (Now isn't that adorable?)

"I was savin' up for this, so ya' better appreciate it. Hmph!" Giggling you yelled 'I love you' at him making him blush immediately.

However, when he spoke, he spoke genuinely and not in tsundere.

"Ya' make my life worth living. You bring smiles to my face, and y'er touch shows me how much you love me and care for me. Y'er my friend and my lover. Happy Birthday!"

Leviathan

With envy filled to the brim, Leviathan was very focused upon you and having your attention only for himself. To not let anyone snatch you away for they could better be than him, he'd make notes to treat you like royalty and improve his guilt-tripping habits.

Guilt, regret, shame. His heart screamed within the confines of his chest, as he rubbed your back assuring you that he still loved and will continue to do so.

It was his envy. It had always been his envy. Who always held him captive like a bird in a cage, he struggled to break free. He just couldn't.

The fault was his for if he hadn't given in to the jealousy named poison, you would be happily celebrating your birthday rather than crying in his embrace.

The fault was his for if he hadn't screamed at your friends who just came to congratulate you about getting in a relationship with the demon you very much loved and to wish you a birthday.

They left because of him. Not because he humiliated them but he forgot his own lover's birthday and called them a pathetic cheater, as they didn't feel like reminding of what the day was. They had left off with their friends, returning at HOL at night only to get yelled at.

Caring friends as they were, they tried convincing Mc to leave which his love refused. So, they left pitying the poor human.

No-matter how much Mc begged her companions to stay, they didn't.

Oh the suffering for His Normie, they ran upto him vulnerable-ly and started hitting him weakly, breaking down. Why was he? Why was he like this?! Why must he always leave you crying due to his envy?!

"Hey easy...calm down please, I'm sorry. I really am sorry, please forgive me and I promise I will make everything right. Please." "How..?" "Please trust me. My love." "Are you sure..?" "Yes...yes...I love you..."

Could you really trust his statement? You wondered. He could forget his word much like how he forgot your birthday.

The great admiral of hell's navy was true to his word, and successfully united you again with those who almost abandoned you or it seemed like--but no they were just disappointed. They were never going to do such a thing.

The meet went smoothly, and soon the the sun was setting casting shadows along with dying light, it was a dreamy sight for anyone.

Leviathan had known that he still had to make upto you properly and therefore, he took you to the cosmos of frodane.

Red, blue, yellow, any colour you could possibly think of was there, shining as brightly you were.

Taking in a shaky breath, the Avatar of envy gave you a bouquet, each flower consisting different scent which complimented the other.

The shimmer in your eyes gave you away and he gave you a sweetly addicting kiss while mumuring...

"I always cause some mess. It is never your fault. I’m sorry for making you feel unhappy. I cannot believe that I cause hurt to you. You are my only hope for my life. I promise you that I will do my best to make a better version of myself for you, my 3rd waifu~"

-------------------------------------------------------

And here we go... the pain and the suffering. Lol

Hope you like it and stay safe everyone. ♡♡♡

Have a good day!

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: zeke knows it’s wrong. you know it’s wrong. yet something always brings you back to your step-dad when your mom’s not around.

warnings: step-cest, manipulation, infidelity, mommy issues, zeke is the devil incarnate and reader is an angel (figuratively.. for now), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, creampie, you've been warned!

author's note: lord knows how long i've been thinking about this one. zeke fuckers, this one is for you. tagging @colossalnova ! hope everyone likes it!

“It must be so nice to have such a good daughter to take care of you,” Mr. Ksaver comments without a second thought, as you head towards the kitchen to get two cups of coffee for Zeke and his friend. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile as soon as you hear the words, delighted with the praise from someone so close to your step-father.

Zeke makes an effort to hide the smirk that comes to him so naturally, because if only Mr. Ksaver knew just how good of a daughter you were for him. But that’s a conversation for another day, he finally decides, turning back to his guest with a smile.

“Step-daughter,” he corrects with the most genuine look he can muster. He could fool a priest with that aura of ingenuity that he gives off without any effort, because after all, that’s how he had gotten you into this position in the first place.

Mr. Ksaver beams back at him, his close friend still completely in the dark.

“Oh, of course, but you two could fool anyone. Say, where’s your wife? I haven’t seen her in a while..” Tom trails off, and Zeke is glad for it. He doesn’t like talking about your mother, his new wife, if he can help it. Business trips and commitments at the salon kept much of her time occupied, leaving only brief interactions with you two, her so-called family. It didn’t take long for him to realize she had been this way most of your life, an absent parental figure since the departure of your father. As cruel as it was, he could easily see why you were the way you were.

Zeke thought you were a lot of things. Pretty was at the top of the list, along with innocent and insecure, but the biggest quality he could see in you, the one that just screamed out at him ever since that first time he had laid eyes on you, was people-pleaser.

It was so apparent in everything you did, from the modest way you dressed to the try-hard behavior you exhibited with teachers and your friends’ parents. He recognized quickly it was because your mother didn’t acknowledge any of it, not the dinners you made for the three of you or the sweet, thoughtful gifts and flowers on special occasions.

It was actually on Mother’s Day the previous year when he had been able to get you alone for the first time. The then-new Mrs. Yeager had booked a full day at the spa as a treat for herself, even though she barely had an ounce of motherly qualities in her body. She had tossed aside the bouquet you had gifted her with, skimmed the card with your sweet, handwritten note, and rolled her eyes at your own watery ones after seeing just how little she cared about this holiday that was meant for you both to celebrate.

After she had left, Zeke had knocked on your door tentatively. It was wrong of him to be as gleeful as he was on the inside, but he’d been waiting for a moment like this for the last several months. He even let twenty minutes pass before coming up to your room to make sure he would get you teary-eyed and upset, just how he wanted.

Any other girl might have told her new step-father to fuck right off, given that he had done nothing to defend you or ask your mother to be kinder towards you, but not you. Ever the people-pleaser, you wiped away your tears with the sleeves of the cardigan you’d been wearing all day, fixed yourself from the position you had been in while weeping on your bed, and told him to come in.

Zeke was fucked the minute he saw you sitting there, dressed purely like an angel in a sundress that had ridden up in your distress and with tear-lidden eyelashes blinking slowly at him. The redness of your nose and cheeks, mixed with how your hair was just a little messed up and your hiccuping whimpers painted an entirely different picture for him. At first, it had just been a game, just to see how long it would take him to seduce his new wife’s daughter, but now it was something else altogether.

But it’s the first sentence you say to him, alone in the house without your wretched mother for the first time, that breaks him.

“S-Sorry Zeke. I didn’t want to eat after that, but I can go get everything ready again for you.” For him. Your mother’s cold behavior had you crying your eyes out before noon, and yet you were still concerned about the lunch you had prepared and if he wanted to eat.

It made his heart burn in a lecherous way, with thoughts in his head about why he hadn’t married you instead of her.

“That’s okay, honey, don’t worry about me. I came to check up on you.” He’s holding up the facade well, he thinks, closing the door gently behind him and hearing the click of the latch. He’s only been in your room a handful of times, and for most of those occasions, you hadn’t been there, so he couldn’t act too comfortable. His eyes roamed around the space, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume that lingered on every object and shoving his hands into his pockets to seem as unassuming as possible.

You wipe away a stray tear, blinking quickly and looking back at him with big eyes. Damn your eyes, honestly, because he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against them, especially when they’re so watery like that.

“Check up on me?” you let out in a soft voice. It’s adorable, honestly, how you think your new step-father would be just like your mother and not care about you at all. You’re not used to this kind of affection from anyone besides your friends from school, and even they don’t know about the reality of your home life. You don’t know what it’s like to have a parent check up on you, to have them want to make sure you’re okay, and suddenly you can feel your face burning with heat at the realization that you and Zeke are all alone in your bedroom.

Zeke is handsome according to anyone’s standards, but for some reason, you can never tear your eyes away from him when he doesn’t know you’re looking. He’s old enough to be your father—your real father, that is—but that doesn’t stop you. You always find yourself staring at his golden locks that shine especially bright when he’s in the sun after his daily run, when you’re watering your garden and your mother isn’t home from work yet. Or when he’s just left the shower and every part of his body is dripping wet, walking back to his bedroom and you catch a glimpse through your open door.

It’s easy to think of him as off-limits, though, since you would never hurt your mother like that. She doesn’t show you affection, or care about you like how your friends’ mothers care for them, but she’s still your mom. Nothing would ever justify betraying her like this, by having these illicit thoughts about your step-father. So you make sure you stop staring, avoid being alone with him as much as you can and create excuses to get out of spending time with him, but you don’t think any of that is really working.

Because now, with Zeke in your bedroom and the sleeves of your cardigan wet with far too many tears, you don’t really care if this is wrong. All you care about is how Zeke is inching closer to your bed with every step.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I wanted to make sure you were okay after all that. It’s not easy, I know,” he says in such a soothing tone that you feel yourself getting lost in the daze of it.

“You know?” you question again, wondering if Zeke could really relate to you. You had always felt like such an outcast, the poor girl nobody loved or wanted, without any love in her life at all.

“Uh-huh, I know. I really hate that your mother won’t treat you better, but you know her, she’s not gonna change,” he watches your nodding face and resigned expression. “Can I-?” he motions to the space next to you on the bed.

“Oh, sure, please,” you say quickly, moving yourself over a bit and making room for him, dress exposing even more of the soft skin of your legs now. He tries not to stare, and every part of him wants to put a hand on your thigh and stroke softly, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. Not yet. He’ll take his time.

“Thank you for saying that.” Your voice is so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it.

“Of course. I mean, you are my daughter now, aren’t you?” He’s pushing his luck, but oh well. “I guess… it’s sort of my responsibility to take care of you, right?”

He sees your eyes widen a little, probably a million thoughts running through your little head. You’re so used to being alone, not having anyone’s affection, that a few simple words from Zeke have you fucked. Probably feeling the same way he is in this moment, eager and affectionate and ready. You find yourself nodding at his sweet words.

Any other day, you might have doubted the sincerity of what he was feeding you, but your mind was already a little fuzzy from the interaction with your mother. You still don’t know why you had gotten your hopes up so much, when it always led to disappointment in the end. You wish you could go back and warn yourself not to expect so much from your mother, who was almost as absent a parental figure as your father.

In that moment, Zeke’s kind words and welcoming arms didn’t seem so bad. You could only imagine that he felt the same way you did, as you doubted your mother was being a good wife to him from the interactions you observed.

“I…” you begin, but trail off when you notice the way Zeke’s eyes are looking at you. You almost instinctively lean back and away from him, like a lamb avoiding a predator, when you focus on how he’s much too close to you.

You’re entirely overwhelmed by his piercing, concerned gaze and the uncomfortable heat you feel between your thighs—your throat runs dry and you know it’s not from the crying. You think he must notice it too, with the way he leans forward, one more movement from him and you’d be trapped between Zeke’s broad figure and your bed.

He supposes that was the make-or-break moment in this little dalliance between you two. In that moment, had you been uncertain or asked him to leave, he would have listened to you and likely never bothered you again. All the same, he knew you wouldn’t.

You look back fondly on that Mother’s Day, the day you gave yourself over to Zeke without the slightest bit of regret. Your mother had returned home later that night, with nails and hair freshly done, acting as though there could have been no better way to spend Mother’s Day. She walked right past you sitting on the couch with Zeke, ignoring his tousled hair and your swollen lips.

Since then, it had been a fun sort of game. You felt guilty, of course, but nothing could compare to the thrill of the secret you had with Zeke, just for you two and no one else. He was more adventurous than you, always sneaking kisses and lingering touches when your mother was just a room away, fucking you roughly with a hand clasped over your mouth while she was on a conference call in her office down the hall.

Over time, you felt yourself becoming adventurous too. You had never done anything like this before, anything remotely bad or wrong, and it was safe to say that you were sinking further and further into the pit of corruption that Zeke had created.

Which is how you ended up here today.

You brought back two steaming cups of coffee on a platter to the living room, setting them down and mixing in cream and sugar for Zeke’s. You hand the cup to him with a sweet smile, and he takes a sip contentedly.

“Just perfect, like always.” The praise makes you smile widely, cheeks feeling warm despite the fact that you had a guest.

“How do you take your coffee, Mr. Ksaver?” you ask politely, as the elderly man laughs and takes the cup into his hand.

“Just plain black, thank you. I never had a taste for sweet things, like Zeke does.” If only he knew.

You smile again and bid goodbye, taking the tray with you as you leave and heading back to your room. You knew Zeke would be up as soon as he was done, since your mother was still out and you had precious time together, all alone.

As soon as you heard the front door close, and the sound of ignition starting from outside your window, you were alert. You could hear Zeke’s footsteps coming up the staircase, eagerly anticipating him this time.

He doesn’t knock anymore, letting himself in and closing the door gently behind him, as always. You hear the lock click quietly.

“Daddy,” you mumble from your place on your bed. You’re lying against the pillows now, fully on display for him in his favorite dress and already wet at the thought of what he would do to you once he got you alone.

“Yes, honey?” He says, in a tone that’s sincere and mocking at the same time. He’s still by the door, not coming in further like you want him to. He wants you to use your words.

“You said once we were alone..”

“Once we were alone, what? That I’d play with you?” You nod dumbly at his words. He inches closer to you, but still entirely too far away for your liking.

“I want you, Daddy. We only have a little bit before she gets back,” and you know you’re in for it now.

“Oh, is that so? We only have a little time?” Before you can process it, Zeke is hovering above you, a firm hand on your wetness teasing you and making you cry out at the sudden pressure. His hand moves slowly, just barely grazing your clothed clit and you whimper. “Let me tell you something, baby,” he whispers right next to your ear. “I’ll take as much time with you as I want, no matter who else is in this house. You got that?”

You let out a strangled moan at his words, knowing the effect they have on you and the uncomfortable wetness between your legs becoming even more prominent. You could swear that he can see how wet you are, even with your panties still on, and you desperately jerk up onto his hand to get some, any, contact.

“D-daddy, please! I-” you break off into another moan as he rubs your clit firmly. You’re not even sure when he took your panties off, but you can feel two of his fingers prodding at your slit, just waiting as he continues his work.

“Does that feel good, baby? Use your words,” he says, teasing you despite how badly you want him to stop and just be inside you already. Another strange feeling bubbles in your chest, knowing that your mother would be home soon and could be pulling into the driveway right now. You can hardly focus on those thoughts though, letting out a loud squeal when Zeke pushes two fingers into your soaking wetness, stopping at his knuckles.

“Oh god, Daddy, that feels so good, please, please keep going-” the rest of your words disappear as he pushes his thick fingers completely in, marveling at the way you’re so stretched out around them.

“Good girl, baby, you’re doing so well.” You keen at the praise, moaning loudly as he continues fingering you, scissoring his digits inside you and getting you prepared for his cock. He knows he’s on a time limit too, but he’ll be damned if he lets that rush him. No, he needs to take his time with you.

Every time he feels the tightness of your hole, it takes him back to that first time, and he refuses to hurry up.

His thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out quickly, filling the room with a lewd squelching noise, have you seeing stars before long. Every time Zeke touches you, you wonder how you went so long without it. Your own actions when you touch yourself are nothing compared to his anymore. He’s got you so dependent on him, so reliant that you barely want to cum by yourself anymore.

He slows his actions just for a second, just to pull down the front of your sundress and reveal your tits to him. Zeke increases his speed as he latches his mouth around your hardening nipple, flicking with his tongue and taking the pebbled bud between his teeth, tugging slightly and making you cry out as it suddenly becomes too much to handle.

You’re succumbing to the orgasm before you even know it, waves of pleasure washing over your body as the knot in your stomach finally releases and fills your core with heat.

“Good girl, baby, cum for Daddy now,” he says from his place on your chest.

“Daddy! Daddy, I-! Oh!” You know how pathetic you must sound, screaming and moaning helplessly as Zeke doesn’t let up on his actions. You finally put your hand on top of his and make him look up, into your eyes, and press his lips to yours.

A sloppy, hot kiss in the aftermath of your orgasm has you shaking under his grip, entire body feeling hot and sweaty. He pushes his fingers, slick with your wetness, to your lips and you open without any request for him, sucking and rolling your tongue over the digits until they’re all clean.

“Good girl,” he breathes into your neck, whether he places more sloppy kisses. “You ready for Daddy to fuck you?”

You nod meekly, moaning loudly as you feel Zeke align himself with your slit, and letting out a high-pitched squeal when he pushes himself into you entirely. You choke on your breath at the sudden feeling of fullness, completely ignoring the way Zeke’s focus seems to be on something else.

Perfect timing, he thinks to himself, hearing the car pull into the driveway and knowing his dear wife had arrived home. He was too deep inside of you to care, though.

Zeke pulled his hips back slowly, wanting you to feel every inch of him, and then slammed them down harshly. For every motion of his hips, you released a loud, obscene moan, babbling on without making any sense at all as Zeke fucked you.

All you could process were Zeke’s reassuring praises, calling you a good girl as he continued at a brutal pace, fucking you so hard you couldn’t figure out where you stopped and he began.

He picked up the pace and the angle of his cock stretched you out so perfectly, he was hitting against your clit with every thrust and you could swear you were seeing stars again, so close to the edge and screaming out for him, when he clasps a hand over your mouth quickly.

You reacted with a jolt, unsure of why he suddenly silenced you when he placed a kiss right next to your ear, whispering quietly.

“Looks like she’s home. Be quiet for Daddy, okay, baby?” Your eyes widen in panic, flustered with shame and another feeling you can’t put together when Zeke goes back to his quick pace, fucking you rapidly and giving your clit the contact you so desperately needed. You cum again with a stifled, broken noise leaving your mouth and your body jerking up against his, the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth holding you down in place. You feel yourself clench down on his cock, as he rides you through it, thrusting in and out and doing nothing to stop the vulgar noises that fill the room.

You can hear it now—the steps of your mother coming into the house, and probably up the stairs to her office soon enough. Your heavy breathing coupled with Zeke’s grunts are the only sound left as his hips stutter and you feel hot ropes of cum shoot inside you, filling you up. Zeke finally comes to a halt, pressing a kiss to your lips as you hear your mother walk right outside your door, talking to someone on the phone.

Your panicked eyes meet his perfectly calm ones, a devilish smirk playing at his lips as you hear the steps halt and then continue again, walking by your room as though you didn’t even exist.

You release a sigh, Zeke pressing another kiss to you that you return eagerly.

“Good girl. Now clean up while Daddy goes and deals with her.”

You feel suddenly emptier, lighter as Zeke lifts his weight off of you and adjusts his clothes. You sit back up slowly, careful to not make an even bigger mess and ruin your dress, as Zeke grabs your panties off the floor and hands them to you with a smile. You pull them up, fixing your dress and realizing that you need to run a brush through your hair before you see your mother again.

Zeke unlocks the door and leaves with one last smile gracing his face, as you sit up and feel remnants of your encounter inside you.

Moments later, your mother walks by and glances at your open door, which was locked before. She pushes it open, taking a look at you on the bed. You’re certain you look like a mess, hair disheveled and sweat on your body, with limbs feeling like jelly.

“Hi, mom,” you greet, with the most false enthusiasm you can muster. “What is it?” She looks at you coldly, almost as if she knew something was going on and couldn’t quite place it.

“Clean yourself up, honey, Uncle Eren is coming over for the weekend.”

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 3,064

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

***************************

Almost a week had passed since you stayed with Cillian at his unit in Galway and, despite the fact that he was away, things had further developed between you as emotions grew with every day.

He was different to any man you had ever been involved with and, whilst your involvement with each other stemmed from purely sexual lust and hunger, you had evolved from this to something different entirely within a matter of days.

Of course, you knew each other for years and, whilst you had a crush on Cillian for as long as you could remember, you never thought that it would be like this and, for Cillian, this feeling had never been mutual.

Whilst he always considered you to be attractive and very intelligent and kind, he never felt any emotional connection or sexual attraction towards you, at least not until that weekend when you visited Denise, which was also the first time he saw you again after six months had passed.

On that night during which you slept with each other, he let his sexual hunger take over his reasonable thinking mind after he saw you, in his kitchen, making pancakes and you had since, quite openly, talked about it. He saw sleeping with you as a mistake but, ever since that night, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For you, things weren’t just sexual anymore and you began to feel strongly for Cillian which worried you especially since he was open about the fact that he didn’t know where things were heading with you. The fact that you are his daughter’s friend and much younger than him clearly bothered him and he sometimes admitted to you that he felt strange about building such a strong connection with you. A relationship was not what he wanted but he liked you, a lot.

As such, during the past week, Cillian called you every day after he finished filming and you were talking to him more frequently than you were talking to Denise.

During his breaks, he would also text you and check in on you as you were in the middle of exams. He always remembered when you had a test and asked you how it went and, when you told him that you didn’t feel confident with your results, he reassured you that you probably did well and, even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. According to him, a pass is a pass and you needed to lower your expectations of yourself just a little.

To your surprise, he also remembered appointments you had scheduled and things that bothered you which meant that, unlike other men you had been with, he was actually listening and was interested in what you had to say.

Some nights, you had spent hours on the phone or Skype, joking about things you had encountered that day or talking about books, literature and music, which is something you both enjoyed.

Politics and social issues were other matters you could discuss endlessly and, even when you were of different opinions, you would be able to argue in the most satisfying way. Cillian always treated you as an equal and even opened up to you about his divorce from Denise’s mother recently.

Another thing you learned from Cillian was that Denise was brining along her friend Amalie to Manchester to stay at his apartment and, when you gave him a warning about her and her intentions, he reminded you that he only had eyes for you. In fact, he always showered you with compliments and all of his compliments were genuine and came natural to him, helping you immensely with your self-consciousness.

Unfortunately, whilst you enjoyed how engaging Cillian was with you every day, like a teenager in love, with the constant text messages and calls, your father soon got suspicious and confronted you about.

****

“Dad, I am almost 22, you don’t need to be spying on me” you said somewhat frustrated as he asked you who you were talking to every day.

“You live under my roof and you answer me young lady” he said harshly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just as your mother stepped in, trying to calm him down. Your father was much older, approaching sixty and fairly old school in the way he expected you and your sister to behave.

“A friend…I am talking to a friend” you explained and your father asked again, telling you not to lie to him because he would know.

“And this friend of yours, you can’t meet him…you just text and talk? You can’t bring him to our house and introduce him?” your father asked along with a million other questions.

“No, I can’t. he lives in Dublin and I, most certainly, wouldn’t bring him into this…” you said somewhat irritated by the interrogation.

“Dublin, huh? So, you met him when you visited Denise?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s not her brother, is it? Because I really don’t want you to get involved with him. I don’t like this family and their views” your father said harshly, causing you to chuckle.

“Their views?” you asked somewhat surprised and your father nodded.

“Yes, their views on what’s right and wrong. If I recall correctly, this girl you call your friend was going out with someone of the same gender for a while. God didn’t tell us to do this but her parents obviously didn’t have an issue with it which, apparently is called new age parenting. Everything is pro choice and lets their children decide what is best for them even if they lack experience” your father went on to say and you couldn’t help but shake your head at his absurd commentary but, he continued and you soon learned what had happened between your parents and Denise’s parents many years ago, before which your mother had called Denise’s mother her friend as well.

According to your father, Cillian had voiced his opinion to your father when it was found out that your sister was pregnant following a short affair with a man she had met through university.

Cillian’s ex wife had told your sister that she had options, causing your father to get rather angry with her, which is when Cillian stepped in, supporting what Denise’s mother had said.

She had offered your sister help but your father considered this to be a betrayal and, whilst your mother maintained contact with Denise’s mother for a while, your father refused to get involved with Denise’s family thereafter.

Cillian’s often all so public views angered him and he made this very clear. He didn’t want you to be involved with his children and you couldn’t help but laugh about the irony of it all when you found out about this incident.

“Jesus Dad, that was years ago and not everyone has to have the same views as you” you said before confirming that you weren’t seeing Denise’s brother.

“No, they don’t, but I am just looking out for you and, instead of acting the way you do, throwing yourself at guys with new age ideas, I would much prefer if you met a nice young catholic man” your father explained, causing your mother to fume in anger with him.

“Throwing myself at guys? Listen, I am not sure what slut you think I am but it’s nice to know that you think so little of me” you said before storming upstairs and into your room.

Having to deal with this crap bothered you and you knew that, when this semester came to an end, you could be moving out now that you saved enough money for a bond and rent.

*****

As the evening went on, you spent all of your time in your room, reading a book until, finally, at around 9 o’clock you saw a notification on Skype.

‘Hey Beautiful’ Cillian said as you picked up and popped in your headphones.

Cillian apologised for calling through so late and informed you that he was finally able to speak to Laura, the woman he was seeing before you.

He knew that you wanted to know about it and he had no problem telling you what you needed to hear while telling you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was Laura’s first day back on set after a week-long break and Cillian told you that she wasn’t exactly impressed when he stood her down.

‘She probably likes you…I can understand that’ you said calmly but Cillian told you that he was pretty clear with her about what this was between them.

‘Well, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her’ he went on and you were quite happy to change the topic by this point and told him that you were aching for him.

‘Well, I am not sure that I can help you with that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘We could have Skype sex I suppose’ you giggled.

‘Skype Sex?’ Cillian laughed before telling you that he didn’t think that this would be a good idea since you were at home with your parents and you had previously complained about the thin walls of the house.

‘Oh Jesus Cillian, my father already thinks I am a slut, so I personally don’t care if anyone hears me getting myself off. I’ve got my earphones in and am the only one who can hear you and my door is locked’ you chuckled.

‘Your father thinks that you are a slut? Do you want to talk about that?’ Cillian asked concerned but you shook your head.

‘I rather not. You met him and know what he is like’ you explained.

‘I do. He takes God very seriously’ Cillian said before continuing on. ‘But, if you have problems at home you need to tell me please. You can stay at my apartment. I can get my house keeper to meet you there with the key’ he offered.

‘You said you were going to stay out of stuff between me and my parents just as I would stay out of matters between you and Denise’ you then said, reminding him on the conversation about your respective roles which you had three days ago.

‘Yes I did, but I can’t if I have to worry about you’ Cillian said firmly.

‘There is no need to worry Cillian. I promise’ you reassured him. ‘Well, actually, I need you to worry about my sexual needs right now’ you then went on to say with sly grin.

‘Through Skype?’ Cillian asked again somewhat concerned.

‘Yes’ you said with a cheeky smile as you settled more into your bed with your laptop.

‘Alright then, show me what you are wearing” Cillian said as he cut straight to the point.

‘Can you see?’ you asked as you adjusted the cam and showed Cillian your dark blue lingerie.

‘Very nice…but…I think you would look even better if you were naked, don’t you think?’ Cillian said somewhat nervously and you nodded in agreement.

‘Well, I suppose I should strip for you and you should strip for me’ you giggled as you seductively took off your bra slowly, showing Cillian your perky breasts through the camera.

You heard him inhale sharply as he watched you and took his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving him in nothing but his CK briefs.

Without words you then scooted back on the bed and removed your undies, allowing him to watch before you sat down on the bed, spread eagle and naked, giving him a good view of your mound.

‘Jesus Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful and sexy…touch yourself for me, nice and slow’ Cillian breathed out and you let his soothing voice wash over you, knowing what he was trying to do and happily helping him succeed.

‘Like this?’ you moaned as you began to run circles over your clit with your fingers.

‘Yes, just like that babe’ Cillian groaned as he shuffled down his briefs and you were finally getting a good look of his hard cock.

‘Oh god, I want to stroke your cock so badly’ you moaned as you seductively opened your pussy lips with your fingers, opening yourself up before reaching for the black vibrator you kept in your bedside table.

‘Well, someone's particularly horny tonight’ Cillian chuckled as he watched you play with your pussy, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You mumbled a small "mhm," and he laughed.

‘Good, that's exactly how I like you, so naughty and needy’ Cillian said as he slowly began to stroke his hard member.

You barely registered his words enough to answer with another "mhm," but your subconscious managed it. Your weak answer elicited another delicious chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Why don't you show me how this little toy of yours works?” Cillian then asked as he watched you eagerly.

“I was just waiting for you to ask” you giggled as you began to run your fingers along your stomach and back up to your chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps their wake before reaching for the vibrator and turning it on.

“Put into your sweet pussy babe, let me see it” Cillian groaned and you moan in response, barely processing his words but still understanding enough to answer and do what he asked.

"I bet your pussy is already dripping” he said as you slid the vibrator into you slowly. He was right, you could feel your wetness pooling.

“I am so fucking wet and I wish it would be your cock inside me” you moaned as you began to stroke the toy in and out of you.

Cillian was groaning on the other side, his eyes full of lust and desire for you and you let out a quiet moan as you watched him with the same desire and hunger while you were pleasuring yourself.

“Good girl, keep going…” Cillian tells you and you moan again hearing it.

“Tell me how much you are aching for my cock” he then said you moaned again.

“I want your cock so badly, fuck…I want your cum inside me, dripping out of my wet little pussy” you moaned, eliciting a groan from Cillian as he began to stroke his cock harder and faster.

“Such a naughty needy girl, aren’t you? I can’t wait to be inside you again and make you cum over and over again” Cillian said with a laboured breath and you are barely listening at this point.

“I want you to cum for me and show me this dripping pussy when you do…I fucking love hearing your moans, so fucking sexy…common babe….let go” Cillian said, knowing that you were close and your orgasm rolled over you as soon as the word 'cum' left his lips, and although your sensitive clit was screaming at your hand to stop, you couldn't.

‘Oh god fuck, yes…’ you moaned as you came hard and fast.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop” he instructed as your moans continuously spilled from your mouth, and you were not even sure what you were saying or if you were forming words at all. The only thing in your head is a deliciously heavy fog and Cillian’s voice guiding you to do what he wanted.

“Don’t stop, keep fucking your sweet little pussy babe” Cillian ordered as he knew you weren’t done and, just as he did, you let out a high-pitched moan, bordering on a scream, as an even stronger orgasm washed over your body.

‘Cum for me babe…I want to see all this cum’ you moaned in return, focusing on the delicious image in front of you as Cillian was stroking his cock and, just when you finally come back down you heard Cillian groan loudly.

“Fuck” he groaned as he stroked his cock hard and fast you watched rope after rope of cum spurt onto his stomach.

‘Oh god, what a waste, I want to lick your cum off your skin so badly” you breathed out as Cillian came down from his high slowly and used a tissue to clean himself up.

‘Stop saying those things or you have to stay on the line for another twenty minutes at least’ Cillian chuckled as he could feel his manhood stir again.

‘Well, I think you shouldn’t cum again until you come to visit me in Galway the weekend after next…I want you to save it all for me’ you said, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow as he pulled his briefs back up.

‘Fat chance babe’ he chuckled, knowing that going without an orgasm for nine days would be rather difficult for him.

Eventually, after a lot of begging, he agreed to try but he wouldn’t be able to make you any promises to this effect.

***

The following day, you went to work and then university thereafter but, when you eventually returned home, your father was in a worse mood than ever before.

‘Can you explain this to me?’ he asked angrily as soon as you walked through the door and you couldn’t help but gulp when he pointed to a white box which he had placed on the living room table.

‘You went through my personal belongings’ you huffed out as the box contained some lingerie and intimate items, including toys, that you were hiding in the bottom of your dresser.

‘Again Y/N, this is my house, my rules and I don’t want my daughter to own filth like this’ he said, after having heard small pieces of your conversation with Cillian on Skype the evening before.

It was obvious to you that your father was appalled and you were outraged that he had been snooping through your room and, as you would later learn, had even tried to access your computer.

‘I can’t fucking believe you dad. These are my personal belongings and you have no right to go through them’ you huffed out and, just as you did, you could feel a sharp strike across your face.

‘Get this shit out of my house and talk to me with some respect’ he said harshly, leaving you speechless and in tears as he walked away, leaving your cheek burning red.

   Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​

[mirabugtm]

A Rainy Day

Based on @sidsinning’s villainess au! I don’t know why it ended up angsty but it did XD

(btw idk if this is canon, so please take this with a grain of salt.)

It was a rainy day when the Dupain family heard of the queen's passing. The clouds weren't letting up, not a ray of sunshine in sight. Marinette peeked from behind the door as her parents read the letter, along with the carriage that was waiting for them to take them to the castle.

Marinette found it cliché, but she knew it was inevitable. There was nothing she could've done to prevent Adrien's mother from catching an illness no one could cure. The only thing she could do is be there for him. She huffed as she huddled to her mom, clutching onto her puffy sleeve.

She's torn. If she shows that she cares, would she accidentally change the story? From what she remembered, the Marinette from the book as pretty selfish and obsessed with her fiance. Even when his mother died, she used the opportunity to try to get closer to him, whispering that she'll never leave him. She still tried to use it as a way to win him over, a completely insensitive thing to do.

Why was the villainess so aggravating in this story? She didn't know.

The rain poured harder and harder during the journey. The small blue-haired child rested her head against her arm, watching the raindrops fall down. They were lucky enough that none of them went on her skirt. Her mother watched her as she tapped her finger against the door.

"Marinette," she called out.

"Yes?"

"Just be careful around the prince," she said. "He's going through a lot right now."

"Yes mother."

What could she do though? As much as she tried to be nice to avoid her death flags, she had no idea how he felt about her. Yes he was being nice to her, but could it be that he was just being polite? But then again, his smile seemed genuine when he was around her. She was torn.

-.-

The carriage came to a stop. Immediately she saw the scary lady in spectacles, followed by the gorilla looking guard. "Thank you for attending," she greeted as she bowed at them. Marinette avoided eye contact as she was led away from the vehicle.

When they were escorted to the garden where the burial was being held, the first thing she saw was the prince, holding onto his father's shirt. The king had his hand on the boy's shoulder, not saying a word. Adrien had his back turned, possibly staring at the coffin in front of them. Her mother pushed her gently away from her and to the prince.

With a heavy heart, she slowly inched her way towards prince Adrien. Each step felt heavier and heavier as the child contemplated over what she wanted to say to him. As much as she wanted to be close, she knew it would never happen. But he really needed a friend. But then again, was she enough? She was just a villainess, someone who will be irrelevant the moment the heroine shows up she-

Too late. She tapped his shoulder.

Adrien didn't respond for a while. She gulped when she tapped him again. He shrugged it off and immediately the young girl yelped in fright. "I apologize Your Highne-"

The prince turned around then. "Marinette?" he said letting go of his father. His eyes were wide eyed, his arms lowering to his side. Marinette took a step back. Did she startle him?

"Uhhh, umm…" She looked to the ground, her hands still up in defense. "Hello, Your Highness."

Adrien frowned when he heard those words. Then, tugging on the sleeve of his father, he whispered something in his ear. Did Marinette do something wrong? She could feel her body tremble as Adrien returned her gaze. "Marinette, can you come with me?"

Marinette slowly nodded her head as the prince reached out for his hand and slowly pulled her away from the scene. Marinette's eyes widened as the boy tugged her away from the burial, away from the crowd. She didn't even realize her dress was getting wet the further they went. "Um, A-Adrien," she called out as he continued pulling her further and further into the garden. He ignored her cry and continued pulling her in. She couldn't help but panic as the bushes began looking way too similar. It was almost a maze.

"Um, Adrien, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for your loss I-"

It was then the prince stopped her. She stared at the child's back before taking in the sight. A wall of roses surrounded them, and in the middle was a resting area covered in vines. The rain was still pouring hard, and her frilly black dress was soaked in the misery. "Marinette?"

"Y-yes?"

He immediately pulled her into his arms, causing the girl to nearly malfunction. The rain continued to fall, a soft ambience covering the cries from the other side. "I'm sorry Marinette," he said, his voice growing weak.

Without even thinking, the blue-haired girl wrapped her arms around him, patting his back. "I'm sorry, Adrien," she whispered, her throat slightly closing up as she continued to rub his back in circles. "About your mom."

"There was nothing you could do about it," he said softly, slightly squeezing her as he hid sniffle or two.

"You… you have her eyes. And her smile."

She remembered when she saw him and his sickly mother, the way he smiled at her. The way he talked to her with light in his eyes. She remembered when he would go to the small piano in her room, playing songs that she knew. Love. It was love.

The thought of it broke her heart.

"She loves you," she said softly. "Even now." And of course she knew. Even with the little backstory she knew of the character, she must've loved and cared for her little prince.

Marinette felt him bury his face onto her shoulder. He was a bit taller than her, but it didn't matter. That moment, she felt a bit of warmth despite her soaked clothes. The two of them didn't speak afterwards, embracing each other as he cried softly into her shoulder, the little boy that tried to be strong in front of everyone. She softly patted his back, her thoughts wandering away from him.

It all still felt like a dream. His warmth, his vulnerability, his affection. One day, it'll be taken away from her.

She mentally shook her head. No matter what, she should never fall for the prince. Never.

Because she knew that the more she fell for him, the harder she'll break when she finally woke up.

(Once again, credits to @sidsinning! I hope I get to write more of this au, if you’ll let me XD)

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids

Chapter One: The New Kid

Story Summary: Roman has to have a completely new start. New school, new town, new home and a new family. As a kid in his first foster home, Roman isn’t prepared to trust these people and get hurt again, but he’s not the only kid in the house recovering from past issues. Regardless, their foster father Patton is ready to be the dad they’ve always needed, and traumatized kids learn to lean on each other for support.

Story Warnings: Past abuse of all types, trauma, and anxiety

Pairings: Familial LAMP

Chapter Summary: Roman moves into his new foster home. He is not having a good time.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, panic, implied past abuse, food, one vomiting mention, and talk of hidden cameras

Word Count: 6778

Notes: First chapter of a story I’ve wanted to make for my foster au! Thanks to Cornybird on Ao3 for beta-ing this one <3

“Logan, Virgil?” Patton called out from downstairs. “Can you come down here? I wanna talk about something with you!”

Virgil and Logan gave each other curious looks from their sitting places on the same bed. Virgil placed his phone on the nightstand beside him as Logan set his book down at the foot of the bed, both standing up to exit Virgil’s bedroom and head downstairs. At the dining room table was their foster father, Patton, smiling wide with a laptop and notepad in front of him.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked after he and Logan glanced at each other. 

Patton giggled to himself, “Sit down for a second and I’ll tell you! Nothing bad, promise. I think it’s very exciting.”

They quickly sat at the table on the other side of Patton. “So,” Patton joked, “I bet you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today!”

Logan and Virgil spoke in unison. “You’re getting another foster kid.”

Patton blinked. “…How’d you guess it?”

“You’ve been really happy recently, but also very quiet about why you were so happy. You only get like this when you’re bringing another foster kid into the mix. You did the same thing when Logan came along.” Virgil said.

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me about his suspicions due to your behavior, and I agreed with him. I think we both expected you’d make the announcement soon.”

“Oh.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think it was that easy to tell. Well, you guessed right! The new kiddo is moving in on Sunday!”

Logan leaned closer. “What’s their name?”

“His name is Roman Goldsberry. He’s fifteen, and he’s only been in the system for about five months. Though, before this, he was in kinship care with his aunt, so living here is going to be very strange for him. So just be patient with him at first, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, we will be.” Virgil smirked. “But you said he was fifteen?”

“Yup! He’ll be a sophomore in high school this year.”

“Aw, that means Logan’s still the baby in the family.”

Logan blushed. “I’m a teenager. I am not the so-called ‘baby’ of the family.”

“Sounds like something the baby of the family would say.”

“Falsehood!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Patton tried not to laugh. He knew how much Logan hated being the youngest, but it was hard to act like his reaction wasn’t funny. “Remember, Roman will be here Sunday, so be on your best behavior when he gets here. No spooking him.”

“Got it, got it.” Virgil slouched in his chair and thought. “One more question though. How fucked up is he?”

“Virgil, language.” Patton warned.

“Sorry! It’s just a question. We know you have a soft spot for the most effed up kids you can find.”

“I would have to say I’m curious as well.” Logan agreed. “It’s become a pattern.”

Patton sighed. “He’s not messed up, he’s a kid who’s struggling and needs support. If he wants to tell you two about his past, then he will.”

Virgil groaned. “Fine, fine. Can we go back upstairs now?”

Patton smiled. “Yes, you can go.”

“Great! I’m stealing your book, Logan.”

“Wait, you can’t do that!”

Virgil darted back upstairs with a maniacal laugh as Logan chased him, the sound of bickering teenagers traveling back up the stairs. Patton shook his head in amusement, still listening to the ruckus in case it got out of hand and he needed to step in, but Patton knew his kids. They may tease, but they’re not mean.

Patton continued working on his laptop once the noise quieted down again.

***

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, Roman, but I’m certain you can persevere and find happiness in this new home!” Roman’s social worker, Mr. Picani, smiled hopefully as he continued to drive him to his foster home. Roman was scooted as close to the window as he could possibly get, his legs crossed and clamped together so tight his thighs were getting sore. He didn’t trust Picani, and he sure as hell didn’t trust this new house. No matter what anyone told him.

“I already had a home! Living with my aunt was so much better than whatever could happen here.” Roman’s hands shook just thinking about it. He didn’t know anything about this new person, and the idea of being in a house full of strangers was enabling the more gruesome side of his imagination. He trusted his aunt, at least, but now he was going to a family who could be anyone.

Roman didn’t like the idea of that.

Picani frowned. “You know why your aunt couldn’t house you anymore, Roman. I know it’s not easy, but I think you’ll like this new place! It’s more up north in Foley County, and the area is nice. He also has two other foster children if that helps.”

“How old are the other kids?”

“Fourteen and sixteen, I think. You’ll get to know them more during your time there.”

Roman hummed, looking out the window and digging his nails into his shirt sleeve. He really hoped this foster dad hadn’t touched them before. Even forgetting about himself, a fourteen year old kid having to deal with abuse? Even after getting away from bad parents? He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“And if you ever feel unsafe,” Picani added, “you can always contact me, ‘kay?”

I already feel unsafe. “Okay. How much longer until we’re there?”

“About twenty more minutes. Just enough time to finish the rest of the Tangled movie soundtrack!”

Roman didn’t respond. Normally, he’d love to have a Disney soundtrack he could burst into song with, but he wasn’t feeling it today. And probably wouldn’t be feeling it for a long time.

He just wanted to feel safe. He felt safe with his aunt, but she couldn’t afford to keep him long after the trial since she gave birth to the twins. His aunt was always one of his favorite relatives, one of the few adults he genuinely trusted, now he was going to the house of some random guy named Patton, who he’d only heard of yesterday, and expected to be okay near him. Well, he wasn’t okay. And he wasn’t going to be, ever.

Roman leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes. His hands still shook a little and his chest felt weird, but fighting it now was pointless. Roman just hoped that if this guardian did try something, he’d do it quickly. The sooner Roman told on him to save himself and the other kids, the better.

Though, Roman still felt his hands tingle at the thought. The idea of “getting it over with” made him want to scream and cry. He wrapped his legs tighter together.

After a long time of trying to fight against his own anxious thoughts, Picani pulled into a driveway and stopped the car and Roman opened his eyes to take a look at where they were. He didn’t know the neighborhood, but it seemed like Picani was telling the truth when he said the neighborhood was nice. The house seemed huge, big bushes and flower patches in the front yard and a nice outside paint job. It looked like a house that a functional nuclear family would have, where the dad is a doctor and the mom stays at home with the kids.

Well, looks can be deceiving. Roman thought. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Here we are!” Picani unbuckled his seatbelt with a wide smile. “Grab your suitcases in the back, I’ll knock on the door.”

Roman nodded and got out of the car as Picani popped the trunk. He grabbed two red suitcases and a backpack, closing the car and wheeling it all up to the front door. Picani was there talking to a guy who Roman assumed must be Patton Sanders, and by taking just one look at him…Roman had never seen a person look so much like a dad.

 He was wearing khaki shorts and a light blue polo with tennis shoes and knee socks, thick-rimmed glasses sitting on his face to finish off the dorky look. Patton managed to pull it off, sure, but Roman felt a primal urge from binge-watching Queer Eye to fix that mess of an outfit. 

Before Roman could truly take in the fact that Patton’s knee socks also had kittens on them, Patton smiled wide once he saw Roman in the corner of his eye. “Hello, Roman! It’s so nice to have you, come on in you two!”

Patton stepped aside to hold out the door as Picani and Roman both walked in. Roman scraped his arm on the door frame trying to keep a reasonable distance from Patton, but neither of the adults seemed to notice how Roman was acting. Patton kept smiling away, and Roman tried to see how real that smile truly was. “So, Mr. Picani, I know I have some things to go over with you, so how would you feel if the other kiddos showed you around the house, Roman?”

…Kiddos? “That sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect!” Patton walked over to the staircase and called upstairs. “Logan, Virgil! Can you come down here please?”

Patton’s request was quickly followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. Two kids walked down the stairs; a boy in a black and purple hoodie, and another boy with thick glasses almost the same as Patton’s. They both stared at Roman curiously, and Roman wanted to sink into the floor.

Patton placed an arm over Logan and Virgil’s shoulders and Roman winced at the sight. “So, kiddos, this is Roman! And Roman, this is Logan,” Patton pointed to the kid in glasses. “And Virgil!” He pointed to the kid with the hoodie. The boys didn’t react much besides an awkward half smile directed Roman’s way. “How about you both show him around while I talk to Mr. Picani?”

Virgil shrugged. “Come upstairs, dude.”

Patton let go of both of the boys and walked off into the kitchen with Picani. Roman watched them from the living room for a moment, but he could feel two pairs of eyes staring at him from behind, so he turned around and followed the kids upstairs, bringing his luggage with him.

At the top of the stairs, a long hallway connected six doors on the second floor. Four of the doors were plain, brown doors, but two of them had very distinct personalities shown on the outside. One was covered in stars and planets, the door covered in a starry piece of wallpaper with a metal planet popping out of the background. The other was covered in caution tape saying keep out, with emo band posters poking out from under the tape. Two very different personalities.

“Your room will be this one at the very end of the hallway.” Logan opened the door to the room, turning on the light as Roman peeked inside. “You can place your luggage in here in the meantime.”

Roman nodded and walked inside to throw his luggage onto the floor. The room was very bare, with brown sheets on a twin bed and not much other furniture besides a desk and a dresser. There was a lamp on the desk and a floor lamp next to a door, and one of the opened closet doors showed that the top was covered in random boxes. Some newer-looking stuffed animals were also sitting on the bed; a soft bear and one of those squishy stuffed chickens Roman always saw in stores. It looked like an attempt at a welcoming gift, but new stuffed animals always put Roman on edge. He looked around the room, and the idea of sleeping here made Roman’s heart start to pound. He needed to check this place before he went to sleep that night.

Virgil smirked, taking Roman away from his anxious thoughts. “Damn, you’ve got suitcases? Living the fancy life I see.”

“…What?” Roman reeled.

Logan adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms. “Most foster children move their things using garbage bags. It’s rare we use actual suitcases.”

Roman looked down at his luggage. Suddenly, he felt guilty. “Oh, well…my aunt gave them to me before I moved out, so…”

Virgil shrugged. “What do you wanna see up here first?”

“We could show him our rooms. Or possibly the attic?”

“The attic is cooler.”

“What’s in the attic?” Roman asked.

“It essentially acts as a playroom.” Logan explained. “Board games and a…random assortment of items are all piled up there. It’s quite entertaining to search through, actually.”

“And it’s in the best place ever, come here.” Virgil motioned for Roman and Logan to follow him. He stopped at one of the doors, opening it and letting Roman peek over his shoulder to look inside. It looked like a normal walk-in closet, first aid and toilet paper on one side with batteries and rows of shampoo on the other. Virgil walked in with a smirk, “Now, check this shit out.”

Virgil jumped and pulled on a string dangling from the roof, unraveling a steep staircase through the closet leading up to a hole in the roof. Virgil started to climb the stairs as Logan followed suit, so Roman climbed right after them.

When Roman made it to the top, his eyes widened with wonder. Granted, it wasn’t anything too spectacular, surely not like something in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but the fact that this hidden space existed made Roman feel excited. At his old house, he barely even had his own room to himself, so a place like this was paradise.

The walls were painted white with a giant window above a sitting area on the other side of the room. Shelves of items scattered the walls, and the rug on the floor was so clean Roman wondered how they even got a vacuum up here. It wasn’t anything like his old attic, stuffed with random items from over the years and covered in spiderwebs. Roman felt like he could spend most of his day here.

“We have a lot of various toys up here.” Logan said. He gestured to the boxes on one of the shelves. “Pokémon cards, a chess set, Magic the Gathering, lots of Lego sets, craft supplies, most of our toys make their way up here.”

Roman’s head perked up. “…Craft supplies?”

Logan nodded. “I believe we have paints and drawing utensils.”

Roman looked at the bottom of the shelf Logan gestured toward. There was a box of small painting canvases with paints and brushes, and though they definitely looked cheap, Roman saw them and grew excited as he took out a canvas and the paints in wonder.

“Kiddos!” A voice yelled from the staircase. Logan and Roman walked over to the stairs to look down, but Virgil stayed in his place on a beanbag near the window. Patton and Picani stood at the bottom, and Patton smiled. “Now, what are you all doing up there?”

“We’re showing him around the house.” Logan said matter-of-factly.

“You are, huh?” Patton crossed his arms. “Does he know where the bathroom is?”

Logan blinked. Virgil called out from behind both of them. “He knows where the important things are!”

Patton tried not to smile, but he lost that battle quickly. “Well, Mr. Picani is leaving right now, Roman.”

“How ‘bout you come down here and I talk to you in private for a sec?” Picani asked.

“Uh, alright!” Roman climbed down the stairs and followed Picani out of the closet, while Patton climbed up the stairs into the attic. They both stepped away to the other side of the hallway, and suddenly Picani’s face became very serious.

“Do you feel safe in this house, Roman?” He asked.

Roman clenched his fist and bit his cheek. No, he didn’t, actually. He didn’t know what Patton would do once the coast was clear from guests, and the idea of what could happen was freezing him from the inside out. The only place Roman would feel truly safe was if he was back in the hospital.

But Roman knew that wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t keep bothering Picani all the time for fears that couldn't be helped. He had to be on his own. Alone.

“I think I do. They…seem like good people.” Roman lied. He’d have to find another way to survive.

Picani smiled, not noticing Roman’s unease. He always was a great actor. “Amazing! Let me know if anything comes up, bucko, and I’ll talk to ya again soon! But until then…so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen goodnight!”

Picani walked downstairs and waved behind him, laughing at his own reference as he walked out the door. Roman watched him from the staircase until he could see the car leaving the driveway through the window, and Roman felt truly hopeless. This was a nightmare.

He stood frozen on the staircase for a while, staring through the window with a hope of Picani turning back and saving him. But no car came into the driveway, and Roman didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. What do you even do when living in a house full of strangers?

“Heya, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the voice coming from behind him, jerking his head back and pushing his back up against the wall. It was Patton, smiling wide with a concerned look in his eyes at Roman’s reaction. “I’m sorry, Roman, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to give you the rest of the tour. I’ll show you everything you need this time!”

Patton laughed at himself, but Roman felt the need to vomit. Patton was close, way too close, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to be roaming around the house with him, vulnerable and nowhere to hide. He needed to be somewhere safe.

“Uh, no, I’m fine! I’ll figure it out myself!” Patton raised an eyebrow at him, but Roman didn’t care. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Patton’s voice became softer. He pointed to the left of him, down the opposite direction of Roman’s room. “It’s over there. Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine!” Roman darted past Patton quickly and out of reach, rushing into the bathroom and locking it behind him. He pressed his back against the door and sat down, pressing his feet against the sink, ready to fight against the door if someone tried to open it. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, trying to even out his scattered breathing. He knew Patton was outside of the door, he could feel it. He just needed to be somewhere safe.

Roman didn’t move from his spot on the floor, eventually curling into himself and resting his head on his knees. He was so tired, the whole day his heart had been pounding with anxiety and he was sick of it. What did it take to feel safe? Was it even possible for Roman to feel safe anymore?

He didn’t want an answer to that. He was just so tired.

 Roman closed his eyes and leaned his body against the bathroom wall, ignoring all his aches from the strange position and trying to give himself some comfort. His body was exhausted but his mind kept racing, thinking of all the things that could go wrong while living here. He tried to fight the anxious thoughts, but Roman figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. If he threw up in the toilet maybe they’d leave him alone for the day.

But Roman never got to that point. He rested on the floor and let his body shake, taking some deep breaths at times to feel less like he was suffocating. Eventually, a knock came to the bathroom door, and it took everything in Roman not to yelp.

“Are you still in there, Roman?” Roman could tell the voice was Logan, and that helped him relax a little more. He took in a big breath and tried to act normal.

“Yes, sorry. Do you need it?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I simply wanted to ask if you wanted to come downstairs and use the paints you seemed so interested in.”

Roman’s ears perked up at that. He forgot all about the paints, and it would be something that could ease his mind a little. But Roman wasn’t that dumb. He knew this was a plan to get him out of the bathroom. Though…he might not mind that much if he wasn’t alone.

“…Would you sit with me?” Roman asked. He doubted Patton would try anything so long as they weren’t alone together, and if he pleased them enough, maybe they’d leave him alone.

Logan was slow to respond. “I suppose I can if you wish for me to.”

Roman rolled his eyes at that sentence. What a nerd, he thought, standing up and slowly unlocking the door to the bathroom before opening it. He looked through the crack to check if Patton was standing behind Logan, but no one else was there. Logan stood there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, and Roman fully exited the bathroom.

“I set the box on the dining room table. However, Patton is also there making a pizza for dinner.”

Roman froze. The same room as Patton? “… I’ll go, but you have to stay near me.”

Logan nodded. He led the way down the stairs while Roman followed, entering the dining room through the connected area in the living room. On the table was the box of painting supplies, and Roman ran toward them to start taking them out, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Patton in the corner of his eye. He grabbed a canvas and the cheap paints, as well as a plastic pallet and all the brushes. All that he needed was a cup of water, but…the sink was right next to where Patton was.

Roman drummed his fingers on the table. “…Logan, can you get me a cup of water?”

“Alright.” Logan stood up and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, filling it with water and handing it to Roman. Roman murmured a thank you, and Logan sat back down at his seat. He was grateful that Logan didn’t ask why Roman couldn’t get it himself.

“So, Roman,” Roman stiffened at the sound of Patton’s voice. “Are you an artsy kid?”

Roman gripped hard onto his paints, squirting out a lot more orange than he meant to. “I guess, yeah. I like art.”

“Do you like to paint, or are you more of a sketchy kinda guy?”

“Uh…all of it. Painting, drawing, coloring, I used to make a lot of stuffed animals too.”

“Awww, that sounds adorable!” The oven beeped and Patton put on his oven gloves and pulled out the pizza. “It’s probably best I don’t know how to make stuffed animals though. If I did, this house would be full of little stuffed puppies!”

Roman didn’t respond. He focused completely on mixing red and orange for a perfect sunset color, attempting to get a good gradient with the lack of shade variety. Once he filled in his sunset and blended it with a dark night sky, he mixed his white with a dot of gray and made darker clouds, dotting them above his rough-looking hill. He wanted to add more texture to the bottom of the canvas, maybe some trees, but he didn’t know how to make good ones without a fan brush. Maybe he could add some grass…

“Alright, the pizza is cooled down and ready!” Roman noticed Patton put a plate next to his painting, so he pushed all his supplies out of the way so he could eat. Patton set down more plates around the table as Virgil walked in. “It was a real pizza work if I do say so myself!”

Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil held back a snort, but Roman didn’t quite know how to react. He might have found the dad joke more amusing if he wasn’t so on edge.

Roman took a bite of the pizza. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a store-bought one that you heat up in the oven and serve, but Roman didn’t realize he was so hungry until now. He had skipped lunch because his nerves about coming here were making his stomach churn, but finally having food near him was bringing back that hunger. Roman’s foot was still tapping violently under the table, but it was progress.

Everyone ate their pizza in silence. It was incredibly awkward on Roman’s end, no stories to tell as this table full of strangers kept making glances at him. Patton was the worst with it. He seemed to want to say something to Roman, continuously making eye contact with him until Roman looked away, but still not saying a word. He couldn’t take it. He hated it, but he hated this silence even more. Roman swallowed the pizza bite he was chewing and opened his mouth.

“So,” Roman started, “what do I…call you anyway?��

“Me?” Patton asked, his eyes lighting up. Why would his eyes light up at that?

“Yeah. Do I say Mr. Sanders, or…?”

“Oh, Patton works just fine! I hear Mr. Sanders way too often at work to wanna hear it at home too!”

“Oh, where- where do you work?” At least it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

“I’m a nurse practitioner for a clinic. It’s a lot of fun, just a lot of work. At least my hours aren’t as crazy as most nurses.”

“Oh that’s…cool.” Roman didn’t know how to continue off of that.

“It is! Is there anything else you wanna ask me, though? Maybe about the house, routines, anything?”

“Well…what are the rules here?” That seemed like a very safe question to have. It could save Roman a lot of trouble, and it could give him more of a read on the kind of parent Patton was.

“Oh, it’s not that much. You’re old enough to clean up after yourself, so make it a habit to pick up your own things and not put that stuff on other people. Be kind to everyone else, and the only rule I’m very strict about is no yelling. You can be loud sometimes, but no angry yelling at anybody here. The last one is to respect others’ privacy. Always knock on someone’s bedroom door before entering. But that’s really it, I think!”

How often do you break that last rule? “That seems reasonable, I suppose.”

Patton smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine here, kiddo. I know it’s hard to start over, but you won’t be alone during it!”

“…Thank you.”

“And I’m sure Virgil and Logan could help out a little bit, since they’ve been in the same situation! Right, you two?”

Virgil was halfway through trying to stick a whole piece of crust in his mouth. “…Uh huh.”

“…Virgil, chew your food.”

“Lo’an ‘old me I cou’ do it!”

“Do not drag me into this.”

Virgil hid his mouth behind his hand as he chewed for a long period of time. “You’re just avoiding your responsibility.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m finished, so try not to choke now.”

“Now I’m gonna choke just to spite you.”

“Please do not start a choking contest, Virge.”

Virgil groaned before swallowing the last of his crust. He followed Logan to the dishwasher and put his plate in, closing it and scurrying away back upstairs. Logan hesitated leaving the dining room, looking between Patton and Roman. Roman couldn’t tell if Patton noticed Logan’s hesitation or if it was just perfect timing, because he also got up and put his plate in the dishwasher.

“When you finish, Roman, just put your dishes away.”

“I can do that.”

Patton smiled and walked off into the living room, sitting on the couch to watch some TV show seemingly about cute puppies and kittens. Logan glanced at Roman again.

“Do you still want me to stay?” Logan asked.

Roman ate the last of his pizza and pushed his plate to the side, grabbing his painting again to put in front of him. It was the most effective thing at calming him down. “…No, I should be okay.”

Logan nodded and walked upstairs. Roman tried to fully immerse himself in his painting, focusing on every last detail and how he could make it better without over-detailing it. Roman put more green on his brush and started to dot at his hill on the bottom, trying to add little blades of textured grass. It was a long process, just enough to take the majority of his focus and calm his hands.

…Roman felt really weird here. It didn’t feel like he lived in this house, now. It felt like he was spending the day with some friends, and his aunt would come pick him up before the sun went down. But no, these new kids were his foster brothers and the adult he was terrified of was expected to act as his new dad. There was no one coming to save him, he was expected to sleep here and eat here and live here. This was supposed to be his safe space.

Roman rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. Don’t focus on that now, he thought. Focus on the painting.

So he did focus. He focused on monotonous texture additions and watching the paint dry on his canvas as he went along, letting the repetitive action calm his mind just a little bit. His calming method seemed to be working too well, actually, as the more details he added and stared at the paint, Roman realized that his constant panic today had completely exhausted him. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet and Roman could feel his eyelids get heavier. He rubbed at his eyes again and tried to focus.

Roman yawned once. He yawned twice and rubbed his eyes as he kept adding minor details to his painting. Then, after a while, Roman scooted his painting to the side and laid his head down on the table.

***

“…Roman, wake up, please.”

Roman buried his head deeper in his arms. “Come on Roman, it’s late.”

Roman groggily lifted his head up. Patton was sitting in the chair across from him, the lights were all off except for the one light above the dining table. Roman looked around him, and noticed that it was dark outside now. Shit.

“You fell asleep, but that’s okay. It’s bedtime now, and the other two are already in bed, so how about you go get ready and sleep in your bed? I bet it’s comfier than the table.”

Roman dug his palm into his eye. “…What time is it…?”

“About 10:20. You all have bedtime at ten.”

“…But I’m fifteen?” Roman gave Patton a confused and sleepy look. He hasn’t had a bedtime since he was twelve, especially one that was so early. His mom only told him to be in bed by midnight.

Patton smiled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Logan is the only one who needs a bedtime, but I don’t want him to feel left out because he’s the only one asleep. So, how about you get ready for bed?”

Roman nodded and got out of his chair. The more he walked, the more he woke up, and he could tell by the time he went back upstairs that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep for a while since he could feel his heartbeat in his chest again. Patton followed him upstairs, turning off the dining room light as they went. Roman got his bathroom bag out from his smaller suitcase and a cotton shirt with sweatpants for pajamas, bringing it all with him to the bathroom. He closed the door as he brushed his teeth for the night, placing his bag in the bottom drawer after he did. He changed into his pajamas carefully, taking the towel on one of the racks to hide his lower half under as he switched pants, taking his other clothes and throwing them into a laundry basket.

When Roman stepped out of the bathroom, Patton was leaning against a wall waiting for him. He smiled at Roman, but Roman still ran past him to get as far away as he could get. Patton didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. Roman shifted on his feet awkwardly before closing his door.

“Um…goodnight.” He finally said. Patton seemed satisfied with this.

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Roman finally closed the door to his bedroom, waiting until he heard the door on the other end of the hallway open and close. Almost immediately after, as if another force was controlling him, Roman started to tear the place apart.

He checked the charging ports in the walls, the lamp, under the bed’s covers and behind every piece of furniture. He stood on top of his suitcase to check the vents and took out all the drawers in the dresser. He punched the stuffed animals to see if he could feel wires, but he still couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it.

Roman felt himself start to pant. He refused to go to bed until he found it. No matter how well hidden it was, Roman knew there was a camera in here. He couldn’t stop until he found it.

Roman grabbed the boxes at the top of the closet and tossed everything out of them, checking every spare blanket and binder before throwing them across the room when he found nothing. He took the hangers out of the closet and threw them on the floor, shining his phone light on the wall of the closet to find a hole. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Tears sprung into Roman’s eyes as he choked on his own breath. “Where the hell is it!?” He whispered, slamming the closet door closed and moving to check the bed. He tore the bedsheets off and checked the mattress, lifting it up as well to check the bed frame for anything that could be used to record. Nothing.

“Come on, please-” Roman took out the drawer from the bedside table. Nothing. He unscrewed the lightbulb from the lamp, almost shattering it from his tight grip. Nothing. He threw the lamp onto the bed and kicked the nightstand over. Nothing.

Roman choked out a sob as his whole body started to shake. This wasn’t fair, he spent all that time trying to get away from his dad only to end up in a place that hid cameras better than him. Roman gripped the covers he’d thrown and punched the floor next to them, the ache being an almost pleasant distraction from his own head. But his mind continued to race and his crying didn’t let up. The only thing Roman could manage to get out of his mouth was “No, no!”

Then, between Roman’s sobbing, he heard a knock at the door.

Roman froze in place. A feeling of dread spread through his chest and made his fingers go numb. For a second, Roman forgot to breathe as he remembered he forgot to lock the door.

Roman’s body was stiff, but his mind was going a mile a minute in a desperate attempt to save himself. He could hide in the closet, but since he tore everything out of there, if someone opened the door they’d immediately find him. He could hide under the bed, but without the covers to reach the floor it was easy to see he was under there. Roman choked on his own breath when he realized there was nowhere to hide-

“Roman?” The knock came back to the door, gentler than the first time. It wasn’t Patton’s voice like Roman feared, it was Virgil. Raspy and tired-sounding, but without a doubt Virgil.

“Y-yeah?” Roman squeaked out.

“Uh, can I…can I come in?”

Roman’s death grip on the covers loosened up slightly. “Yes…”

Virgil slowly turned the doorknob and opened it, slipping in through the smallest crack and closing the door slowly so it wouldn’t click. Once he was inside, Virgil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the destroyed room. “…Holy shit dude.”

Roman tried to dodge the situation, “What do you want?”

“I was gonna come in here and make a joke, like, ‘quiet down it sounds like a tornado is going through here’, but now I think I predicted the fucking future.” Roman put his head down as Virgil looked around in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

Roman wiped away his tears with the palm of his hands, digging into his eyes so hard he saw stars for a moment. “…There’s a camera in here.”

Virgil backed up more towards the door. “Wait, there is?” He darted his eyes around the room looking for what Roman was talking about. Roman let out a shaky breath.

“I haven’t found it yet, but I know it’s in here somewhere!” More tears went down Roman’s face as he hugged himself. Virgil seemed to realize what Roman was babbling on about. “I know Patton put a camera in here for me and I’m freaking out because I can’t find it!”

Virgil looked around at the mess again. He sighed. “I’m not good at this shit…you’re certain it’s in here?”

“Yes!”

“Hey, hey, don’t yell.” Virgil warned. “Pat and Logan are still asleep and I don’t think you’d like all that extra attention right now.”

He was right. If Logan and Patton came in here, Roman didn’t know what he’d do about it. It was the last thing he wanted, so Roman obeyed. “I just…I don’t know what to do…I can’t sleep until I find it.”

Virgil seemed to be thinking. He tugged on the neck of his pajama shirt before speaking. “How about we both make a deal?”

Roman lifted his head up to look at Virgil. “…Deal?”

“We’ll trade rooms for the night. There wouldn’t be a camera in my room if he’s trying to watch you, right?”

Roman paused. “…What if he’s watching you too?”

“I’ve lived here for two years. You think I wouldn’t have noticed a camera in my room by now?”

Roman thought about it. He did have a point, it was hard to go that long without finding the camera. Or at least, have your guardian have it slip that they’ve been watching you. And anything was better than staying in this place.

“…We can trade. Thanks.”

Virgil shrugged. “You know where my room is. Just slip in and don’t wreck all my shit.”

Roman laughed a little bit at that one. Virgil grabbed the sheets and covers off the floor and began to remake the bed as Roman grabbed his backpack and started to slowly open the door. But before he left, Roman had to say one more thing for his own piece of mind. “…Don’t touch my suitcases. I-I’ll know if you do.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “…I won’t.”

Roman opened the door and softly closed it behind him, slipping into the room next door covered in caution tape. He turned on the light and set his backpack down on the floor, looking around him at all the things that showed Virgil’s personality. Emo band posters covered the walls that were painted a dark purple, with dark wood furniture and Hot Topic decorations all over the place. Just looking at this room told him how angsty this kid was.

Roman shook it off and unzipped his backpack. He could deal with angsty decorations for the night, so long as this place could be safe from creeps. He took out his secret weapon from his backpack, something he secretly bought behind his aunt’s back with his babysitting money, the one item that made him feel secure in a home. He pulled out the security bar, locked Virgil’s door, and placed it under the door handle. Even if someone undid the lock, they wouldn’t be able to sneak inside while he was sleeping.

Roman’s heart calmed down a little for the first time in weeks. Even if it wasn’t much, he felt safe, maybe even safe enough to get some rest for once. Roman crawled into Virgil’s bed, covering himself in his very tasteful Jack Skellington covers, and tried to rest.

Roman’s hands still shook, and his head felt funny, but he eventually drifted off into a light sleep full of anxiety and nightmares.