#trope: dark skinned blond

[betelgo0ze]

First I just realized this post is like four years old lol but I still wanna give this a go lol

also I’m a white passing Hispanic person so I’m not claiming to have faced the same discrimination as other people but it also does hurt in a different way(ex. Ppl asking if I’ve been kidnapped when I’m out in public with my dad I wish I was joking) and I have Hispanic features on a white body and I’ve gotten comments for that too but I wanted to get this out of the way and to make it clear that I’m not dark skinned but have faced similar discrimination in a different way if that makes any sense

Onto the topic at hand, I get why dark skinned characters with light hair could be seen as a form of white washing. Personally I don’t see it that way but I 100% can see some creatures doing this as a form of white washing. I don’t think most characters in this “trope” are products of racism but again I can see it.

I have a friend with dark skin and bright blue eyes, it is possible. I think any character of any race can have identifying characteristics that make them special without icky undertones especially since a lot of characters that fall into this trope don’t pay any attention to it. Ororo is a mutant and many other mutants have weird colored hair(specifically the ones without other strange features) and that wouldn’t be considered racist since there diff hair colors on white people. I think that in itself could be its own form of icky ness but again I 100% understand your point of view, this is just mine.

I like the idea of some clones having mutant ions that are downright weird and inhuman like bc genes could get fucked up in the process and I think the idea of a clone w three eyes or sum is funny lol

Rex is just blond and I doubt he dyes it but it’s just one of those mutations ig

anyways just my opinion and I wanted to put some thought into this bc it gen is an interesting topic I’ve never thought of before. I’ve only ever really seen characters in this trope and thought nothing of it, either it’s dyed or their just built diff lol

also ignore typos and grammatical errors I’m very tired lol

Again this is from the POV of a white passing person so I prob only have a 50% valid opinion lol I could never understand other forms of racism other than the forms I’ve faced which have honestly gotten pretty creative ngl

We need to talk about Captain Rex (CT-7567)

Alright everyone. I wanna start out by saying this is not an attack on Rex’s character or anyone who likes him as a character. This is merely meant to be educational and point out some concerns with trends in popular content. That said… I know I’m probably gonna get a lot of hate for this.

So. Captain Rex. Leader of the 501st, arguably one of the main characters of The Clone Wars series. So beloved, he even carried on into Rebels, and now The Mandalorian. And there’s one thing in specific about him that made him catch everyone’s eye— his blond hair.

(FYI: “Blond” is the masculine form. “Blonde” is the feminine form. Please don’t comment to say I spelled it wrong lmao.)

This was a big deal. They’re all supposed to be clones of Jango Fett, right? He’s got black hair. The clones we saw in the movies all had black hair. So here comes along the leader of Anakin’s battalion, the one we are most meant to follow and remember.

And this is where I introduce you to the “dark skinned blond” trope in media.

The dark skinned blond is… a bit complicated. As a whole, it is part of the larger issue of exoticism and fetishization of dark skinned characters. The white/blond hair allows them to stand out more, but also gives them a sense of Eurocentric features: thus, they have a sense of mysticism to the audience.

This can be best seen with the most well-known character that falls into this trope: Ororo Monroe aka Storm from X-Men. Her white hair sets her apart so much that the Africans in her village saw her as a goddess, and it was used as just another thing that set her apart from being normal (for context, she is a mutant).

Another time this is shown is with Princess Yue from Avatar: The Last Airbender. Here, her hair is shown to turn white when the literal moon spirit heals her as an ill newborn. The white hair is meant to show she is blessed, setting her apart from the other introduced water tribe characters and having the audience know she is someone to remember.

(Disclaimer: Yue and Storm can also be included in the ‘magical white hair’ trope, which can also include light skinned characters like Elsa from Frozen).

Most recently, another character in this trope is Usagiyama Rumi, aka the rabbit hero Miruko from My Hero Academy (Boku no Hero Academia). She is one of the top 5 heroes, thus someone important to remember, and… alongside Storm, is subject to a very large amount of fetishization in comparison to the other characters in their series. (This could be further exacerbated due to Miruko being one of the only dark skinned characters in the anime series as well).

A few other characters that fall into the dark-skinned blond trope are Aqualad and Artemis from Young Justice, Allura from Voltron, Agni in Black Butler, and even Butler in that awful new Artemis Fowl movie. It is all done in an effort to make them more ambiguous, more exotic, so you can’t really tell where they’re from but you’re sure to remember them.

[Image: Storm aka Ororo Monroe, Princess Yue, Miruko; Aqualad, Artemis, Allura, Butler. All have dark skin and varying shades of blond hair (white, platinum, yellow).]

So then we get to Captain Rex. Here we have this lead character we know nothing about at the start of the show, but he already stands out because he looks different, despite being a clone. It really doesn’t matter what the in-universe reason is for his blondness (I know people debate if it’s genetic mutation vs bleaching).

The point is this: his design is used to set him apart from the rest, to make him seem more exotic in comparison, and thus, make him the one the creators force the audience to remember.

Honestly… I don’t know. I have mixed feelings about this trope. For characters like Storm and Yue, at least there’s magic to explain it. At least you know it can’t be real. 

With characters more like Rex, who is meant to be normal (not magical)… it feels different. It felt like the creators– specifically, the white creators– thought he wouldn’t be good enough for the audience’s attention as a brown man unless there was something special about him. Something eye-catching. Exotic in comparison to the other clones.

It’s a strange feeling, because overall, it’s not something outwardly racist with the character development (like with Jar Jar Binks). This is far more subtle, so subtle that it’s hard to even fully verbalize. But it’s still there, and it’s a pattern, and it’s a bit worrisome, especially when concerning a character modeled off of a real person (Temuera Morrison’s appearance was not altered for his clone roles in the prequel trilogy, and Rex’s design came afterwards.).

I wish I had a conclusive ending to this mini-essay. I don’t really. There’s nothing that can be done about Rex or any of these characters’ appearances. Just… keep this in mind for the future. Often with visual media in particular, even how a character looks can influence your perception of them, often with years of history and reasoning behind it.

This has been Tea Time with Hawk. ☕️🦅Thanks for reading :)

Part 2 here.

[notetapper]

if they nerf sugilite hsr i will actually lose it PLEASE I NEED TO TRAVEL TO THE FUTURE TO EXPERIENCE HIS PLAYABLE VERSION ALREADY

[sunboki]

— MR. FIREFIGHTER.

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe

WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO

AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha

In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.

Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.

You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.

About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.

Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.

“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.

“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.

Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?

Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.

And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.

“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.

He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.

“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”

“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.

“Scared?”

“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.

Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.

Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”

If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.

Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.

“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”

Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.

“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”

Momentarily, surprise etches his face.

He grins.

“Nah I’d—”

You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.

“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”

Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.

His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.

A man with a deadly duality.

Charming.

“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.

He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.

“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”

Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.

“I don’t know, am I?”

Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.

No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.

As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.

Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.

“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.

Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.

“In case my house burns down?”

“That’s a plus, yep.”

“You’re awful.”

Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

hii!! first off i wanna say congrats on 5k you deserve it so much!! can i do remus lupin and fake dating please and ty!

Thanks so much lovely!

cw: alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 969 words

“Your favorite color is green,” you say, passing Remus a glass of champagne. 

His brow twitches as he takes it from you, holding it by the stem like an adult. You adjust your grip on yours accordingly. “What?” 

“Your friend Sirius cornered me by the bar. I panicked.” 

“Ah.” Remus tucks a tongue into his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth, and takes a sip. “I’ve always told him I didn’t have a favorite.” 

You chew your lip, nodding. “Okay. That’s okay, we can just say you told me because you’re, like, so into me.” 

He chuckles. “So into you I divulged to you the deep, dark secret of my favorite color?” 

“Mhm. Think he’ll buy it?” 

“He might, actually.” He takes another sip of his champagne, and you remember to have a bit of yours. You could probably use it. Remus looks perfectly composed, and surprisingly dapper in his suit, done up to the top button with the collar just barely brushing a thin, pale scar circling a third of his neck. Contrastly, you’re a jumble of nerves. “Sirius likes to think I’m holding out on them, it might fit into his narrative that I’d kept it a secret all these years.” 

“And if he does figure it out, we could probably just tell him, right?” you ask, and somehow your champagne is half gone. Damned duplicitous, narrow glasses. 

Remus’ smile softens as it bubbles down your throat, and you know he can read what you’re thinking on your face. You’re a shit actress, an even worse liar. You’re going to ruin this for him. 

“We could,” he says, “but he’ll only tell James.” 

“Really?” You look at the man still standing by the bar, now chatting with a blonde you don’t know but suspect in a few minutes will have to pretend you’ve heard Remus talk about a million times. Sirius has managed to wear a leather jacket to a wedding, thrown on right after the reception in what Remus has informed you is typical fashion for him. He grins with one half of his mouth as he talks, flashing canines when he really means it. “He doesn’t strike me as a narc.” 

Remus steps closer to you as someone moves past him, lowering his voice. You can smell his cologne, woody and vaguely sweet. “He’s not. He and James tell each other everything, though.” 

“Oh. That’s sweet, actually.” 

James is the one you’re really here for. It’s his wedding, and months ago when he and his fiancee sent out invitations he’d asked if Sirius or Remus would need a plus-one. Sirius said yes immediately, and by some manner you can’t say you understand but Remus assures you is very typical of them, this evidently devolved into a bet on whether Remus could actually find a date that met his standards and that he was willing to ask to come to the wedding with him. 

As it turns out, Remus is more competitive than you would have guessed. 

According to James and Sirius, no one is ever good enough for him. You’re here to disprove that, though you don’t love that your work crush asked you out because he couldn’t find anyone he wanted to actually date. Still, Remus is your friend, and you were never going to say no to helping him. If you’d known you’d get to see him in this suit, you probably would have said yes even faster. 

“Do you want another?” Remus asks, and you look down to find your champagne glass is empty. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry.” You set the glass down on a nearby table, embarrassment a tickle over your skin. “Yeah, probably best not.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He tilts his head at you, smiling in that gentle, kind way of his. “You’re here not on a job, love, you should have a good time.” 

“I feel like I am, a little bit.” Your laugh bubbles out of you easily, fizzy like the champagne. “I want to at least act like someone your friends believe you could be interested in.” 

“Just be yourself,” Remus reassures you. “They’ll believe it.” 

Something in your gut flitters at what that could mean. You don’t let yourself think on it. “What if I wanted to dance?” 

He smiles. “Then you should do that.” 

“But would you dance with me?” 

“I would hold your things for you.” His grin takes on a sheepish quality. “Find a chair to watch with all the other lame boyfriends.” 

You tsk. “You’re not lame, Remus.” He looks like he wants to contradict you, but he kisses his teeth instead. “I think I’d rather stay with you, if that’s alright. We can go sit in chairs amongst the lame boyfriends if you like.” 

Remus considers you for a moment. The sky has turned a deep blue around you, the string lights hung up around the space casting a warm glow that filters through his hair and makes it appear more golden than brown. “I would go dance with you if you wanted me to,” he admits. 

You blink. “Really?” 

“Well, maybe not dance so much as hold both our drinks and stand near you while you danced, but I want to stay with you, too.” Remus glances away from your eyes for a moment, a shyness you haven’t seen since you first met in his expression. “If you want to dance, I’ll go with you.” 

You take his hand on impulse, the scars and calluses of his skin alternately rough and smooth between your palms. “I don’t want to make you,” you tell him earnestly, “but I really do want to dance.” 

Remus looks to the side, his smile almost begrudging. “You’re not making me,” he says. 

You end up getting another glass of champagne after all.

[justmymindandstuff]

Love doomed to fail - Jacaerys Velaryon x TargtowerReader (you)

summary: The divide between the blacks and the greens is deep. A final attempt to overcome the hostilities is the betrothal between Rhaenyra´s eldest son Jacaerys and Alicent's younger daughter. A constellation that is cursed from the start. Especially if your heart belongs to someone else. Or maybe not?

words: 14.427

relationships: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader // Aegon Targaryen x Reader (previously; implied)// Jacaery Valaryon x Baela Targaryen (previously; briefly mentioned)

warnings/ tropes: enemies to almost lovers to enemies, slow burn , arranged marriage, angst, swearing, insults, violence, bastard bashing, rape threats (brief), adult themes, sexual themes (not explicit), jealousy, Jace has angerissues, incest (obvious)

a/n: trying a new writing style with this// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // not proofread // first time writing Jacaerys // AO3 //

this turned out a lot longer than I originally thought. And to be honest, I'm a little proud of it🙈. I had a lot more fun writing Jace than I thought I would. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.🧡

Have fun and be kind to eachother and yourself 🧡.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Cold wind blows in Jacaerys face causing a teasing burn on his skin. His hands grip Vermax's reins tightly. The sun has barely risen on the horizon. Beneath him, on the restless sea, the ships of the Velaryon fleet are tossed back and forth in the waves.

The battle with the Trirachy is already in full swing. His little brother is on one of these ships. He has to save him. He has to destroy the enemy fleet to save his brother. The plan was to get Aegon and Viserys to safety. It had been his plan. He failed.

Now he has to win this battle. He must destroy the fleet to protect his brother. To win the war for his mother. The blockade must hold. He gives the command, Vermax turns towards the enemy fleet. Below him, the men caught up in the fight shouting orders.

Jacaerys's attention is drawn by a dark shadow above him. In the next moment, Vermithor breaks through the clouds. In that moment Jace knows he will die today.

Jace tugs at his shirt. The black silk is soft against his skin, yet he would rather tear the fabric apart. He feels uncomfortable. He doesn't want to be here. He wishes the black stones of Dragonstone would open up beneath his feet and he would disappear. But nothing like this happens. Instead, he stands next to his mother and watches as you walk up towards Dragonstone. Your ship is already turning in the harbor to sail back to King's Landing.

You only brought a few servants and maids. Your confidants. Jace knows that each of them is now under strict observation. His mother doesn't trust you at all.

Nevertheless, she smiles as you stand before them and sink into a perfect curtsy.

He recognizes the contemptuous look of your mother,Alicent Hightower, on your face. Your smile is perfect and false.

"Thank you for taking me into your home, dear sister." your voice is gentle, your words are kind. But it's all a lie. Everyone knows that's a lie. He heard the whispering. When your mother Alicent told you that you were to be sent to Dragonstone, its said that you have cursed and screamed. People said you had cried for two days and refused to leave your chambers. Jace wonders for a moment if the guards had to drag you to your ship.

Nevertheless, you stand here now. With a false smile and genuine pride. Your back straight. Dressed in the finest silk, green silk. Your long blonde hair in intricate braids. Gold jewelry in your strands that jingle with every step you take. Your purple eyes sparkle in the morning sun. You are the personified Targaryen beauty.

Jace can't help but admire your beauty. He allows it for exactly three heartbeats then he tries to raise his walls again. He swore to himself that he would never feel affection for you. But when you set your gaze on him and slightly lower your head in front of him, he doubts his vow to himself for a moment.

Jace really tried to be open to this betrothal. Since you two were little kids, you were engaged. You never accepted it for even a second. You hadn't even outgrown your nurserycambers when you loudly proclaimed in the courtyard that you would never marry a bastard. That you will never marry him.

Nevertheless here you are now. Send away from your family to marry him. Jace had negotiated a deal with his mother so he still has a little time before he has to marry you.

It's only fair. There was a different arrangement. Jace actually should have had two more years before the journey to the Red Keep for his funeral wedding. But things have changed. And that's your fault.

They were outsmarted. The enemy fleet has split up. Attack them from the north and south.

And they are accompanied by you on Vermithor.

None of them expected that. Spies and reconnaissance have reported that you are staying in the Red Keep with your sister Helaena to help her with her grief.

Jace should have never believed that. He knows you too well. He should have known that you wouldn't stay away from battle. He should have known that you would interfere. He failed again.

Jacaerys yanks Vermax around, out of the path of the Bronze Fury. His Dragon is too small to defeat Vermithor. He can´t do it alone.

But Jace still has a small glimmer of hope. He knows that Ulf and Addam are on their way.

Would the united strength of Vermax, Seasmoke, and Silverwing be enough to defeat you and your dragon? It has to be enough.

Jace is sneaking around outside the door to your chambers. Outside the keep he hears his brothers and stepsisters laughing. He wished he were with them now.

But his mother sent him to you. With a reminder of how important this marriage is for the family. So now he's lingering around your chambers, trying to muster the courage to knock on your door.

He sighs. That doesn't help at all.

He is a prince! The heir of his mother. One day he would be king and you will be his queen. He has to pull himself together. So he knocks on your door.

"Enter." your voice is gentle. You don't know that it's him standing at your door.

Jace enters your chambers and takes a quick look around. Nothing indicates that you have been living here for over a week. Nothing personal is lying around. Everything is tidy and seems unused. As if you were just here for a short visit and it wouldn't be worth unpacking your things. Presumably you hope that this is the case.

You sit at the desk and look at him with a cold gaze. You don't even show the respect to stand up for him. Letters lie before you.

Since you arrived, the ravens of Dragonstone have been busier than ever. Every day you send letters to your siblings and your mother. Daily, ravens arrive with answers.

Jace knows that each one of them is read by the Measter and his mother. So far, there doesn't seem to be anything unusual.

Do you know it too? Do you know that his mother is intruding so much into your privacy?

"What do you want?" you say with an annoyed voice. Jace gathers himself briefly before raising his voice.

"I wanted to inquire about your well-being. And ask if you have settled in well?" It sounds memorized and not serious. It's not meant seriously. He doesn't care whether you've settled in well. He doesn't want you here at all.

You snort disdainfully, not very princess like. "No, I haven't settled in." you say and turn back to your letters.

Frustration and anger rise within him. His hands clench into fists and he has to pause for a moment before he can speak again.

"I could show you the Keep a little. Maybe it will be easier for you to see it as your home then."

It's his mother's idea. Jace doesn't want to spend time with you. He wants to go to his siblings and fly over the surroundings on dragonback.

You jump up from your chair. Your dress is made of green silk, at always. The sun shines through the window behind you, making your skin glow warmly as you walk towards him. Jace becomes aware again of how beautiful you actually are. But he immediately pushes the thought aside. No! He doesn´t allow himself to think of you like that.

"This place." you make an expansive gesture with your hand. "Will never be my home! The Red Keep is my home." your voice is cold and full of hate. Hatred for him. And Jace can somehow understand it. He is the reason you are separated from your family. Although it's not entirely his fault, you also have your part in it. He refuses to take all the blame on himself. He forces himself to stay calm.

"I hope you change your mind. Dragonstone is not the Red Keep, but it has its advantages too. If you want, I can...

You interrupt him. "It's terrible here. I will never change my mind. I don´t want to be here, I don´t want to live here."

"It's your own fault that you have to be here already." he blurts out.

You pause, clench your jaw, and your eyes sparkle with such hatred towards him that Jace briefly fears you might claw his eyes out right here and now.

"I don't know what you mean." you lift your chin slightly. Liar. He wants to scream it in your face: Liar, liar, liar!

The rumors have reached Dragonstone. Rumors about the inappropriate relationship between you and your brother Aegon. Just the thought that his uncle has take his fiancée makes his skin crawl. It would suit both of you. You are unrestrained and rotten to the core. Just like all of Alicent's children. You take what you want. Whenever you wanted it. Best example is your brother Aemond, who stole Vhagar from Rhaena.

His gaze shifts to your necklace. The golden sun pendant lies on the pale skin of your décolleté. In Jace the urge to rip this necklace off your neck rises. He doesn't even need to ask you who you got this necklace from. Aegon is all over you. In your jewelry, on your clothes, green and gold is everywhere. You even have Sunfyre embroidered on a few of your dresses. Aegon has already claimed you as his. Although you rightfully belong to Jace. You are his fiancée! It makes Jace terribly angry.

He suppresses the urge to tear off your necklace and meets your hate-filled gaze with his own. "Then rot in your chambers. I don't care."

Vermax's frantic wingbeats makes Jacaerys nervous. He tries to calm his dragon, but he is also afraid. Vermax turns behind the fleet. Facing their enemys again. Jace lets his gaze glide over the battling ships. He searches for the lysian ship where his brother is supposed to be. If he manages to land Vermax onto it, he would be able to save his brother.

An arrow shoots past him just beside his head. The enemy ships have targeted him. He immediately makes Vermax climb higher into the sky, out of the line of fire.

Jace sees the large body of Vermithor flying over the Velaryon fleet below him. Two ships burst into flames beneath him.

You sit in the saddle, your long blonde hair blowing in the wind behind you. You turn your head and look up at him. You are too far away for Jace to see your face clearly. He expects you to summon Vermithor to attack him. To kill him. Instead, you make another round over the ships and set a few more on fire. The arrows from the scorpions, which have been set up on the ships of their fleet, don't seem to bother you. What is your plan? Why don't you attack him?

Are you so arrogant that you don't see him as a threat?

Can he use this arrogance to his advantage?

The stern look from his mother makes Jace shift his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. She is holding one of your letters in her hand.

"She begs Alicent to let her come home." Jace can hardly bear the disappointment in his mother's voice. "I asked you to make sure she feels comfortable here." It's an accusation. "Jace. You know how important this betrothal is. This marriage will reunite our separate houses into one. House Targaryen is only strong when it is united."

He has to suppress an annoyed groan. How many times has he heard that already?

"She doesn't want to feel comfortable here at all. She is unbearable."

Rhaenyra furrows her eyebrows. "Jace. You need this marriage. It is important for our house."

Jace knows exactly why the marriage to the Hightower daughter is important. It legitimizes him. It is supposed to cover up the rumors about his father. Jace knows that, you know that, his mother knows that. Even if she will never admit that his father is not Laenor. He wants to scream it in her face. Jace has to endure you as his fiancée and later wife because his mother has been lying with Harwin Strong. But instead, he swallows his anger and nods.

"I will try, Mother." he says.

She smiles gently at him and wants to say something more, but a knock stops her. Your letter is quickly hidden among other scrolls.

"Come in."

You enter the room. You don't give Jace a glance and simply turn to Rhaenyra.

"I wanted to ask if my siblings could come for a visit. Only for an afternoon?"

Jace notices how you try to hide the trembling of your hands. You are nervous.

"Our siblings are always welcome here. They don't need my permission to come visit us."

Your face immediately brightens. "Thank you, Rha… sister."

His thoughts are racing. He wished he had had more time to learn. More time to study more strategies, more battles, more tactics. Should he have listened to Daemon better?

Jace bitterly realizes how inexperienced he actually is.

But now is not the time to study. Now is the time to act.

"We can do this." he says, unsure if he is speaking to Vermax or to himself. His dragon lets out a high-pitched whistle. It sounds approving. Jacaerys gathers all his courage and lets Vermax fall down from the sky again. Directly towards Vermithor and you.

Jace is trying to please his mother and starts visiting you every day. It takes four days during which you repeatedly send him away with a biting voice and insults before you agree to take a walk with him. He managed to persuade you to take a walk outside the castle. The barren surroundings are not really interesting, and cold wind blows up from the sea. Catches in your blonde curls and your green dress.

The silence between you is suffocating and uncomfortable. Every attempt to start a conversation, you block with one word answers.

If only he could find something you both have in common. But he doesn't know you. Knows nothing about you at all. And you give him nothing. Uninterested, you walk by his side. You ignored his offered arm. You don't even look at him most of the time.

You frustrate him incredibly. He is really trying hard here. You have no interest whatsoever in him or in a happy life together with him.

Do you really believe that you can get out of this engagement? Maybe you hope that your brother will save you.

Just the thought of it makes Jace angry again. He takes a deep breath. Jacaerys tries once more with conversation.

"What do you usually do in the Red Keep?"

"Different things." you don't even give him a glance.

Jacaerys would like to scream. Or take you and shake sense into you. Why are you making it so difficult for both of you?

You shiver slightly as the cold wind blows around your ears. He doesn't know if it's his upbringing, his sense of duty, or just his character, but he follows his first impulse and takes off his cloak to drape it over your shoulders.

"Are you out of your mind?" you snap at him and push him away lightly. His hands clutch angrily at the fabric of his cloak. He just wanted to help. Fine then freeze, he thinks bitterly

You turn away from him. Jace considers for a moment whether to simply go back or call Vermax to him and fly away. It would certainly humiliate you if he would let you standing here all alone.

"Dragons" you hear a voice from one of the Guards of Dragonstone. Immediately, both of you turn around as well.

On the horizon, three approaching shadows can be seen. Vhagar, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre. At the sight, your eyes begin to sparkle and a radiant smile appears on your face. Jace has never seen you so happy. For the first time he sees you smile honestly and fuck you can smile so beautifully.

You spin around and take off running. Just leaves Jace standing there. He suppresses his anger slightly and then follows you. You eagerly await the dragons on one of the cliffs of the island.

Jacaerys stopps a few steps away from you.

Sunfyre is the first dragon to land. Aegon jumps off even before Sunfyre touches the ground, and immediately you both run towards each other and fall into each other's arms. Dreamfyre lands as well, and when Vhagar touches the ground, the earth trembles slightly. Your other siblings also quickly climb down from their dragons. You greet them no less enthusiastically. A few tears run down your cheek. Helaena is crying too.

A bad conscience creeps up on him. He is the reason why you are separated from your siblings. But when he sees Aegon carefully wiping the tears from your cheek, that hot feeling burns under his skin again. He remembers all the rumors that his mother wanted to keep away from him. Of course, he heard them all anyway. Baela gladly spilled everythin she had heard.

Alicent's children are completely ignoring him and he feels a little stupid standing aside. Maybe he should just go back. He is so different from them that it is difficult to recognize from the outside that they are actually all one family.

All four siblings are dressed in green, very Hightowerlike. Nevertheless, with their blonde hair, purple eyes, beautiful faces, and proud demeanor, they look much more like Targaryens than he and his brothers do.

"I brought you something," says Aegon, unbuckling a box from Sunfyre's saddle.

Jace rolls his eyes. Expecting another piece of jewelry with a golden sun. But when you open the box, soil and a few small green plants come into sight. Your eyes begin to sparkle and you beam at your brother.

"They have grown." you turn to Jace. For the first time since your arrival, you speak to him directly. "Before I had to leave the Keep, I planted a few new flowers in my garden. I thought they would die because I couldn´t take care of them." you explain. You have never spoken to him so gently. It seems you just realized that too, you blink in surprise and then simply turn back to your siblings.

"We took care of it," says Aemond.

"Thank you." again you smile your beautiful smile again. Jacaerys doubts you'll ever give him that kind of smile. "Let's go to the keep, I'm cold."

Your siblings agree with you. Aegon holds out his arm for you and you take it without hesitation. Then you hold out your hand to Helaena. For a moment, Jace thinks your sister would be angry at your open affection for her husband, but she just smiles happily and takes your hand. You and your siblings walk past Jace. Jealousy burns in his stomach at the sight of you leaning close to Aegon. Aemond gives him a disdainful look as he passes. Jacaerys watches you for a moment before following at a distance. He feels excluded and lonely. And then he realizes that you've probably felt the same way since you arrived here.

Vermithor and you are still busy setting the ships on fire. As Jacaerys quickly approaches, he can feel the heat of the flames. Vermax breathes fire without needing to be commanded. He aims directly at you. Jace knows that the flames of his younger dragon will not affect the Bronze Fury. But they will affect you. He can aim at you. He can kill you. Even if it's the last thing he does.

But Vermithor is experienced in battle. He senses the danger and turns his large body before the flames can reach you. Instead, the flames graze the skin of his wings. He lets out an angry growl.

You whirl around as the flames shoot past you. Now Jace is close enough to see your expression. Consumed by rage, you look up at him.

Jace's hands ache slightly as they slowly thaw again. Even his gloves couldn't shield him from the cold wind. Nevertheless, he would have preferred to fly on Vermax's back for hours longer. But it is time for his lessons. And before that he wants to quickly see his little brothers.

His steps lead him through the familiar halls of Dragonstone to the nursery. He opens the door and stops at the sight that greets him. A gentle song drifts through the room. Aegon and Viserys sit on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace. Their maid sits at the edge and is embroidering something. Next to his little brothers, you sit and watch over them. While little Viserys is completely focused on his wooden dragon, Aegon looks at you in adoration. You sing with a beautiful, gentle voice for his little brother, a soft smile on your face. Jace didn't even know that you were capable of smiling like that.

With him, you still block any attempt he makes to get to know you. Gods, you have even started to slowly befriend his stepsisters. Of course, neither Baela nor Rhaena are sure whether your friendliness is genuine or if you are still resentful because they are to blame for your brother losing an eye. Maybe you have finally understood that they were all just defending themselves against Aemond?

Nevertheless, they are trying to build a friendship. After all, they will soon be a family. Actually, they already are, but Jace feels that the rift between the Hightower children and them is so big that no one currently considers them as one family.

Your voice is gentle and weaves him in. It is a valyrian song, an old song. He doesn't know it. While you sing, he realizes that he is missing some words for an accurate translation. But the melodies you sing immediately dispel his frustration about it.

"Jay jay." Viserys' voice pulls him out of his trance. You also look up at him. You seem to notice him only now. Your song immediately falls silent. He wants to beg you to keep singing. He doesn´t do it and instead goes to his little brother. He kneels beside him and takes him in his arms. You watch him closely, your smile has disappeared, your jaw is tense again.

"Hey little one. Are you well?" he is not looking at you but at his brother. He wonders what you are doing here. What do you care about his little siblings?

Without a word, you stand up and leave the room. Aegon watches sadly as you leave, and Jace feels guilty because he drove you away.

"Did you have fun with the princess?" asks Jace.

"She always sings for us," Aegon replies, his speech still not quite clear but understandable. Viserys mostly just babbles nonsense that Jacaerys doesn't quite understand.

"Really?" he asks in surprise. He didn't know that. How could he? You still don't speak more than five words a day with him.

Aegon nods and smiles at him. He leans forward and begins to whisper. "She smells good. And she's pretty too."

Jace has to suppress a laugh but agrees with his little brother. "I know." he sighs.

That's exactly his problem. Your beauty attracts him. But that can´t be. He forbids himself to accept this. If you weren't so beautiful, it would be easier for him to handle your constant rejection.

Although there's a second problem. You are also damn smart. Your mind is sharp and quick. His mother had hired a new teacher. A philosopher and scholar trained at the Citadel in Oldtown. You had a lively discussion with him just a few days ago. You not only speak perfect High Valyrian, but also almost all dialects. Presumably even more languages. Rhaena had told him that you told her that you used to secretly read books from Asshai before your mother took them away from you.

It frustrates him. He would prefer to get this information directly from you. He is annoyed that he only gets all his information about you second-hand. He wishes you would open up to him.

Not just because his mother encourages him to do so. If he can win you over, then maybe your future together won't be as terrible as it might seem now.

At the same time, you're driving him crazy. One snarky comment from you is enough and his anger explodes under his skin. He has never reacted to anyone as quickly and as extremely as he has to you. You are unbearable.

Perhaps his hatred is strong enough to overcome his attraction to you?

He stays with his siblings for a moment longer before he really has to head off to his lessons. He arrives late. The master scolds him. Jace can hardly concentrate. Again, he gets scolded. But his thoughts are constantly revolving around something else.

Why are you spending your time with his little brothers?

What's behind it?

What are you planning?

Are you dangerous to the two little ones?

Did your mother gave you instructions to injure the two?

No, that can't be. Rhaenyra still checks every letter that comes in and every letter that goes out. If there were even the slightest suspicion that you posed a danger to Viserys or Aegon, Daemon would have fed you to Caraxes without hesitation.

Nevertheless, he finds no peace and finds himself at your chamber door in the evening. He knocks and enters without waiting for a response.

"Are you out of your mind!" you snap at him before the door behind him closes. Jacaerys hesitates and for a second he forgets why he came here.

You have already changed for the night. A fine, white nightgown envelops your curves. Your long hair falls in gentle waves over your shoulders. Your lips are slightly reddened from the wine you drank.

Fuck, you're even more beautiful like that as you are when you're all dressed up and adorned with jewelry.

"What do you want here?" your voice trembles with anger. You jumped up from the chair by the fireplace and are now standing in the room with your arms crossed. You probably don't notice that you are pushing up your breasts a little so that they almost spill out of your dress. But of course, you notice his inappropriate gaze on the curves of your breasts. The book you were reading before he entered hits him hard on the shoulder and then falls to the ground.

"Ouch! Are you crazy?" Jacaerys is pulled from his stupor. Jacaerys is torn from his stupor. His cheeks turn red.

"You look at me like a cow at the market! It's inappropriate that you are here so late," you say.

Jacaerys wants to explain himself, but in the next moment, you call for a guard. It takes no more than two heartbeats, and the door opens, and one of the guards from Dragonstone steps in.

"My Prince. Princess. Is there a problem?"

"Your prince is badgering me!"

Shocked, he stares at you. You didn't really just say that, did you? His jaw tightens. The guard looks at Jacaerys.

"My prince?" he begins. Jace can tell that he is overwhelmed by the situation.

"It's all right. The princess is just joking. Leave us alone," he commands, the guard obeys and leaves.

You stare after the guard with a shocked expression. Suddenly, something shifts in you. You swallow and blink a few times as you take a step back from Jace. You reach behind you for your morning robe and put it on. Jace sees that you feel uncomfortable. He feels bad. He just made it very clear to you that you have no power here. Not even in your own chambers. You feel vulnerable and unprotected and he forced you into this situation. He wants exactly the opposite He wants you to feel comfortable. Here on Dragonstone and with him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," he begins, looking you in the face. He forces his gaze to stay glued to your eyes. He has the need to explain himself. "It's just" he begins, falters, and notices his cheeks turning red. He can no longer hold your gaze and instead looks out the window behind you. Outside, it's pitch black; he can only see his own reflection in the glass. Screw it. It doesn't matter anymore. He can´t deny it any longer. "You are very beautiful."

Every other maiden here would have probably shyly lowered her eyes and whispered a "thank you" with flushed cheeks at his words. After all, he is a prince.

You don't. You snort contemptuously and whisper a valyrian curse under your breath that he doesn't know. Contempt lingers in your voice.

"What do you want here?" you ask again.

Jacaerys hesitates for a moment longer and regrets having come here. But it's about his brothers.

"Why do you visit my brothers so often?"

Confused by his question, you look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon told me you sing for the two."

"Is that forbidden?" your tone is sharp and makes Jace angry again.

However, if he starts shouting now, he would ruin everything.

"No, I just want to know the reason."

You study his expression closely, then your posture tenses up a little more and you shake your head slightly while disbelief is reflected in your eyes.

"They are children. I wish him no harm." your voice is so cold that an unpleasant shiver runs down Jacaerys' spine.

"I didn't mean it like that," he begins. He has to explain himself now. He wants to explain to you that you are misjudging him. But do you do that? He thought that you would harm his brothers. Where does this mistrust come from?

But before he can even sort out his thoughts, the door opens again. His mother enters the room next to her your guard.

"What's going on here?" she asks.

"Is here no privacy? These are my private chambers. Get out of here! Everyone." you suddenly yell.

Jacaerys is shocked by your disrespect towards his mother, the heir to the throne. Rhaenyra also needs a moment to regain her composure but then she smiles and sighs.

"You're right. I'm sorry, sister. We'll leave you alone now. Jace come." she apologizes instead of getting angry.

Jace can hardly believe his own ears. But then he follows his mother outside like a beaten dog.

In the hallway, his mother whirls around again, now the infamous Targaryenanger on her face. "We brought her here so early because of rumors! Don't be the reason there are new rumors!"

That's not what happend! His jaw tenses again, his hands clench into fists. He closes his eyes to calm himself down for a moment. But the image of your perfect curves under the thin fabric of your nightgown appears in his mind's eye. A strange mixture of lust and anger rises up inside him. You are driving him completely crazy. He quickly opens his eyes again. Jace wants to scream. Instead, he apologizes to his mother and turns around to go back to his chambers.

Vermax turns past the larger dragon, he is more agile and faster than your beast. He manages to create enough distance between you with quick wingbeats before Vermithor could turn around with a sluggish movement. The flames that burst from Vermithor's throat do not reach him. But the heat they radiate hits his neck painfully.

Jacaerys don´t see you for the next few days. Baela tells him that you are angry with him. Jace can't change that now. You made it very clear that you hate him. So he hates you too. At least during the day, he talks himself into it. He joins Luke in gossiping about you. All day long, he curses about how unbearable you are and that he doesn't want to marry you.

At night in his dreams, he can't lie. Almost every night, you haunt him in his dreams. They are inappropriate dreams that his horny teenage brain comes up with. Every morning he is rock hard when he wakes up. You really drive him crazy. Nevertheless, he can't resist and lets his dreams unfold before his inner eye while his hand slips under the blanket.

Afterwards, he feels better, but also guilty. He knows that you would burst with anger if you knew he thought of you like that. You would never consent. He feels bad. Still, he can't help it.

The conflict inside him is tearing him apart. Makes him tense. He notices his thin skin. Jace has to pull himself together and not shout at everyone.

When he returns to his chambers that evening to retire for the night, he can hardly believe his eyes.

You are sitting in one of the armchairs in front of his fireplace. The fire is burning. When he enters, you look up. You don't smile. Why should you? Nevertheless, this time there is no hatred in your eyes.

Jacaerys feels insecure in his own chambers. He lays down his cloak and sword and remains standing in the room. He doesn't say a word, even though his gaze is glued to you. He would prefer to sit down with you, but that feels inappropriately familiar to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks in a calm voice. He doesn't want to argue with you again.

You hesitate for a moment. You stand up and smooth the skirt of your dress. The dark green silk appears almost black in the gentle light of the flames. Jace forbids himself from letting his gaze wander over your body. He looks you in the face. Not a single emotion can he see there.

Had your mother taught you to hide your emotions and thoughts behind a mask? He knows nothing about your childhood in the Keep. And yet, you will be his wife in just a few moons.

You exhale audibly, but when you speak, your voice is calm. Almost friendly.

"I wish no harm to your little brothers. I understand why you might think that. It's just, they remind me of my nephews. I miss them very much."

At the mention of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, warmth creeps into your voice and a sad sparkle appears in your eyes. Jace blinks and it is gone.

Your words calm him down. Although he is quite sure that he never really thought that you were endangering his brothers. It had just been a thought that had come to him.

Your explanation, however, also confuses him a little. And because he is not as controlled as you, you can probably read his emotions on his face.

"Doesn't that suit you?" you ask. Your voice is sharp again. Jacaerys has to be careful about what he says now, he knows that. He briefly organizes his thoughts before he begins to speak.

"It surprises me that you miss your nephews."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Why? Because I'm such a bad person that I can't even love my family?"

Gods he hates it when words are put in his mouths. He certainly didn't mean to imply that. His voice is a bit louder, but he tries to keep himself in check.

"No. I just didn't think." he interrupts himself because he knows that his next words will lead to an argument. "It's not important."

But your posture is already tense, your eyes narrowed as your gaze pierces him. Jace feels as if the air around you vibrates with your anger.

Fuck, why do you look so good when you're angry?

"Speak your mind," you urge him. Don´t allow any objections. So he gives in.

"I didn't think you really liked your nephews. After all, they are the children of your sister with your lover."

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing?" you shout angrily. Your voice shoots up a few octaves. You feel attacked. Your gaze flickers to the side. "Aegon is not my lover."

Jace lets out a frustrated sigh. "Stop lying," he demands. Why can't you be honest with him? You need to be honest if your marriage should work out even in the slightest.

"I'm not lying! Such accusations are treason. I should write to my father, the king, so that he cuts out your tongue."

You both know that Viserys would never do that. Not to him. Not for you. Your expression becomes blank, even the anger disappears from your eyes as you raise your walls and put on your mask.

Just the sight of your emotionless face and the fact that you have such good control over yourself, much better than he have over himself, lets him explode. The anger burns hot through his entire body. You just don't want to be honest with him. Jace feels like he's running into a wall with every one of your conversations.

"It's not treason if it's the truth."

You huff disdainfully and shake your head. "I am a virgin and I will remain one for the rest of my life." you raise your chin and look at him challengingly. Now you're just being childish.

Annoyed Jacaerys groans. "You will be my wife. The queen of the seven Kingdoms. We will share a bed. It is your duty to the realm and to me," he states. You both know that he is right. You remain stubborn.

"You will have to rape me if you want to claim your right as a husband! I will never willingly lie with a bastard like you!" you scream at him.

All the anger and frustration of the last few days with you, with himself, with the situation, rises up inside him. The hot anger in him makes him see red. He takes the few steps towards you. Startled, you step back, slamming your back against the wall. He enters your personal space. He towers over you. You look at him in shock.

"Get away from me." you try to push im away but he is stronger than you.

"You will be my wife! Completely and entirely. And if I have to rape you for it, then so let it be."

You raise your hand to slap him in the face, but he catches it. You contort your face in pain, and he immediately loosens his grip. You swallow and he notices your slight trembling. In your eyes, there is no longer hatred but fear. Immediately, Jace is overcome with guilt. What is he doing here? That's not how he is. That's not how he wants to be.

Quickly, he takes a step back, lets go of your hand, and looks at you apologetically. "I'm sorry," he says to you. His voice trembles.

Confused, you stare at him, your mouth slightly open. Your hand, which he had held in his, falls to your side.

Jace turns around and simply leaves his own chambers. He didn't want to argue with you, but somehow that's the only thing you two are good in. Screaming, arguing, cursing.

You bring out this side of him. You make him like that. He hates it. He hates you. But gods, he can´t stay away from you. This marriage will be an absolute horror for both of you.

You let Vermithor realign himself. Vermax has to dodge another crossbow bolt but gets grazed on his wing. Jace feels as if it were cutting through his own skin.

Below him, he hears the screaming soldiers who are still trying to destroy the enemy fleet. Behind him, he hears the flapping of your dragon's wings. You are getting closer quickly.

Jacaerys knows that he can't fly away from you forever. He doesn't have to. Only until reinforcements arrive.

Jace watches as Sunfyre approaches the castle courtyard in slow, circling movements. The sunlight catches in the dragon's pink wings and is reflected by the golden scales. He looks as if he were cast from pure gold. Aegon moves skillfully in the saddle. You sit in front of him, skillfully keeping yourself in the saddle. You've ridden with Aegon several times before, it's obvious. The wind blows through your blonde hair. You look like a perfect Targaryen couple. Happy.

Jace could puke because of his jealousy towards his uncle.

He is jealous of the beauty of his dragon.

He is jealous of his connection to you.

When Sunfyre lands in the castle courtyard, Jace also steps into the yard. He has been waiting for hours for both of you to return.

Aegon picked you up this morning, he showed up without any notice and took you away. Jacaerys would have preferred to stop him. But he doesn't have the right to do that.

Not yet, whispers a voice in his head. But even after your marriage, he would never tear you away from your brother. Jace is indeed jealous but not cruel.

His uncle slips off his dragon and then helps you down. His hands are on your hips as he catches you and spins you through the air. You laugh. You laugh honestly, openly, and happily.

The jealousy burns beneath Jace's skin. He has to open and close his trembling fist a few times to calm himself down.

He clears his throat loudly. Tears Aegon and you out of your world. Immediately, you both tense up. Aegon straightens up a little, makes himself taller and stands close to your side, throwing daggers with his eyes at Jace. Now he knows where you learned that kind of look.

"Can I talk to you?"he asks and ignores his uncle.

"Talk."

"Private."

"You can speak open in front of Aegon. I would have told him every word anyway."

Jacaerys takes a deep breath. He really doesn't want to discuss this in front of Aegon. But this is your punishment for him. This little humiliation. So he endures it and begins to speak.

"I have to apologize to you. Yesterday was absolutely inappropriate. I shouldn't have said such terrible things. I shouldn't have threatened you. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Also for hurting you. I don't know what came over me. I promise you … I swear to you and before all the gods that I will never force you into my bed and I will never hurt you again like I hurt you yesterday." He means every word he says. And he hopes you believe him.

Your expression remains unchanged. You look at him for a moment. Then you nod slightly. "I accept your apology." you don't say anything more.

Silence spreads across the courtyard. Aegon is the first to move. He takes a step closer, leaning forward, his breath brushing Jace's ear as he begins to speak.

"If you touch her against her will, I will find out. I will hunt you down even if I have to fly to the ends of the earth. I will slice you open from head to toe, then I will feed you your own bowels." his voice is quiet but dark. His gaze so steely and the description so graphic that Jace has to shudder and can only nod. He is sure that Aegon means every word.

Aegon gives him a false smile before turning to you. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead. You whisper a few words that Jacaerys can't hear before Aegon climbs onto his dragon and disappears.

You watch him until you can no longer see him. Then you go inside without another word.

In the evening, you show up to the family dinner. But even there, you don't say a word to Jace. Instead, your attention is divided between Baela and Viserys, who is sitting on your lap.

For a second, Jace imagines what it would look like if you were sitting at the table with your child of your own. His and yours. At the thought his heart stumbles over two beats. Then he thinks about the fact that you hardly talk to him and that you certainly cannot raise a child together in peace.

Before dessert, his mother clears her throat to get the attention. "I don't think it's good for Aegon to keep visiting you," she addresses you directly.

Your smile immediately slips from your face. "What?" you ask. "But you said my siblings can visit us anytime."

"Our siblings, yes. Aegon not. It doesn't make a good impression. You know why." Rhaenyra's tone is stern.

Tears glisten behind your eyes and you struggle to maintain your composure.

The sight tugs at Jacaerys heart. His words come out of his mouth without him really thinking about it.

"That's a bad idea, Mother. He is her brother. Why separate the two? Wouldn't it just provoke everything even more, make it worse?"

His mother and you both look at him in shock.

Rhaenyra because she never thought he would stand against her in this matter.

You because you never thought he would stand by your side.

Silence spreads, but then his mother shakes her head. "No. I have decided it. I will send Aegon a letter tomorrow."

"I can't even send him letters anymore?" you snap angrily. "You read everything I write anyway."

Rhanyra's face tenses. "That's enough now. Eat your dessert."

You stand up. Your chair makes a disgusting noise as it scrapes across the stone floor. "Fuck your dessert. I'm not hungry anymore."

"More respect for your sister," Daemon suddenly interjects. You give him one of your dagger looks that Jace usually gets.

"Why should I?" you then ask with a cold, arrogant voice. "I hate you. I hate it here." you throw at Rhaenyra and run out of the room. For a second, there is dead silence in the room. Then Jacaerys surprises himself and everyone present as he stands up and follows you.

He finds you in your chambers. You are sitting on the floor in front of a wooden box full of earth. The small plants that your brother brought from Kings Landing have barely grown and their heads are hanging down.

Your face is buried in your hands and he hears you sobbing.

The sound makes his skin crawl and his heart ached. He hesitates for a moment. Then he walks over to you and sinks down onto the floor beside you. He doesn't touch you. He doesn't know if that would be appropriate. You sob a few more times. Then you turn your head to him. He expects you to yell at him, to curse him out. You do nothing of the sort. Instead, you wipe your tears from your cheek.

"Thank you for standing up for me." your voice is just a whisper. So quiet that he isn't sure if he didn´t imagined it. He nods because he doesn't really know what to say. He can't look you in the tear-streaked eyes, so he looks around your chambers. His gaze lingers on the sad flowers in the flowerbed. He notices your gaze on him.

Silence spreads. It's almost uncomfortable. Then you speak again.

"They don't grow well here. It's too cold."

Jace has no idea about gardens, flowerbeds, or flowers, so he just nods.

Vermithor has caught up with him. His mouth snaps at Vermax, but the smaller dragon manages to dodge. Glides under the neck of the larger one. Jace hears your angry scream because you missed him. He has to duck so the sharp claws of the bronze-colored one don't slice his face. Vermax flies down, but Vermithor's gigantic wingbeats disturb the air so much that his dragon is thrown off balance and stumbles. Cold fear runs through Jace. His hands grip the saddle as he struggles to keep his balance while being thrown through the air.

Suddenly, Vermithor throws his head to the side and roars loudly. You and Jace both turn around. Seasmoker and Silverscale arrive. Exactly at the right moment. Jacaerys breathes out in relief.

You don't yell at each other anymore. You hardly talk to each other anymore. But at least you no longer avoid Jace. Most of the time, he sees you in the nursery.

You sit with Viserys and Aegon every day. You play with them. You sing for them or read to them.

Jace usually sits in an armchair by the edge of the fireplace, watching his siblings and you.

Aegon idolizes you. He has a crush on you, that's for sure. Jace can't blame him for it. He can understand his little brother.

If you were to sing especially for him with your gentle voice, Jacaerys's heart would probably explode. But you don't sing for him, and he doesn't ask if you could do it.

Your songs are a bit sad now. You are sad. It makes Jace sad too to see you like this.

You don't say a single word to Rhaenyra anymore. Even if she addresses you directly, you just turn your head to her and remain silent until she says what she wants from you or simply gives up.

Jace knows that his mother is holding back Aegon's letters to you. He also knows that every time Aemond or Helaena arrives on Dragonback, they smuggle letters from Aegon for you.

He doesn't say a word to anyone. He gives you and your siblings space.

Jacaerys has an idea of how to cheer you up and he has already taken the first steps. It didn't take much to convince Baela to help him with Moondancer. You both have built a real friendship.

The conversation with Aegon and Aemond was humiliating, but he does it for you. So your brothers helped.

His mother is to blame for your unhappiness. Jacaerys feels responsible. And maybe you would give him a smile.

It is a warm afternoon when everything is ready.

He hesitates as he stands in front of your door. Nervously, he shifts from one foot to the other. He feels like an idiot. Still, he knocks.

"Come in."

Jace opens the door. You look at him in surprise. He rarely comes to your chambers anymore. He gives you space.

"I have something for you," Jace begins before he can change his mind. Skeptically, you raise an eyebrow. "Actually two things." he reaches into his cloak pocket and pulls out a letter. It was Aegon's condition for his help. Jace had to smuggle letters.

"What is that?" you ask, but you walk over to him. Your curiosity is written all over your face.

"A letter from Aegon."

Immediately, you snatch the letter from his hand. "Where did you get that from?"

"I was in King's Landing."

Surprised, you look up from the letter to him. "Why?"

"I picked something up. The second thing I got for you. Do you want to see it?"

You look from him to the letter in your hands. You think for a moment. Then you set the letter aside and nod. "Yes."

He opens the door for you, and you walk side by side through the halls of Dragonstone. He leads you to the north wing and down the stairs. The closer you get to the volcano, the warmer it becomes. You start to look around curiously. Jace knows that you are not interested enough in the castle to explore it. These corridors are unfamiliar to you. In front of an inconspicuous door, he stops.

"Are we there?" you ask skeptically.

"Yes." Jacaerys takes another deep breath and then opens the door.

You look past him into the room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Jace had emptied the entire room. Instead, he had it filled with soil. But not the barren soil of Dragonstone. He flew all the way to King's Landing just to get the soil from there. And since he was already there, he took your flowerbeds with him. Now your flowers are blooming in this warm room. The castle's complex ventilation system has various shafts that lead through the walls to the outside. It took a while, but Jace found a room that even lets in sunlight.

"My garden," you say in shock. Your voice trembles as you look at him. Tears shimmer in your eyes. Jace's heart sinks. Did he make it worse? You don't like it.

But then a smile appears on your lips. It is your radiant, genuine, cheerful smile. He longed for you to give him exactly that smile. You take a step forward and hug him. For a second, he freezes. Then he carefully wraps his arms around you. Warmth spreads through his body. He could hold you like that forever. But after just a few seconds, you flinch back.

"Thank you, really Jace. Thank you. This means so much to me."

It's the first time you don't call him Jacaerys or Bastard. He never wants to hear his full name from your lips again.

Jace smiles slightly and hopes you don't notice that his feelings are currently a rollercoaster.

"Gladly. I'll leave you alone with your garden then."

"Wait."

He turns back to you, do you want him to stay here with you? That you spend time together?

"Can you show me the way up again? I wasn't paying attention and I'm bad with directions."

He tries not to be too disappointed. Jace nods and you both go back up the stairs together. This time, you focus on the path.

"You might not need to draw me a map," you admit quietly. Jace has to laugh briefly, and to his surprise and joy, you laugh with him. At least he learned something new about you today. You're bad with directions.

Addam nods to Jace, and hope begins to blossom inside him once more. Seasmoker dives into the enemy fleet below them. Jace turns Vermax away from Vermithor and seeks shelter behind Silverwing. Jace catches a glimpse of your face and realizes that you are afraid. You are not as confident in your victory anymore.

Yes, your dragon is bigger. But Silverwing is older. And they outnumber you three to one.

You should run. It would be the wisest to run now and come back with Aemond and Vhagar. Jace knows you won't run. You are far too stubborn to give up. To admit defeat. This would only end when one of you is dead.

You are sitting in the small garden that Jace had created for you. Your flowers bloom around you, and you smile at the sight of the colorful blossoms.

"Helaena and I had always sit in the garden for hours. I always plant the flowers that attract insects"

"You want to attract insects?" he makes a disgusted face. You look at him and suddenly laugh. It is not your scornful, contemptuous laughter. It is a warm, honest laugh. His heart skips a beat for a second only to then beat twice as fast again. You have never smiled at him so honestly.

"Hels is completely fixated on the little crawler. You should hear how much she can say about each insect."

Helaena has always been just a strange girl to him. She speaks in riddles and always seems to be with her thoughts somewhere else. Jace can't imagine that she talks about insects for hours.

"I miss them very much. All my siblings." Jace feels guilty again. But before he can say anything, you stand up. "Come on, let's go back up."

You start walking and he follows you like a puppy. Every day he goes down to your garden with you. Sometimes you are silent, sometimes not. You often have long, pleasant conversations or interesting discussions. Jace enjoys these moments. He admires your mind as much as your looks. He can no longer deny it. You have him wrapped around your finger. He is completely infatuated in you. And you didn't even had to try.

You walk so close beside him that your fingertips lightly brush against each other. Jacaerys hopes that in the coming days he will have enough courage to hold your hand.

Your path leads you out of the castle over the fortress walls. Cold wind blows up from the sea towards you. You shiver slightly.

Jacaearys' hands wander to the clasp of his cloak, but he hesitates.

"Do you want my cloak?" he then asks. You look at him from the side, nodding hesitantly. He takes off his cloak and drapes it over your shoulders. The dark red doesn't quite match the green of your dress. Nevertheless, you look beautiful. Jacaerys is sure that even dressed in rags, you still will be stunningly beautiful.

"It suits you well."

You roll your eyes, but a gentle smile rests on your lips. Your gaze sweeps across the sky, over the sea where Luke is currently flying a round with Arrax. Your gaze becomes sad.

"Do you miss flying?" Jace guesses.

"A little," you reply. "Sounds weird because I don't have my own dragon."

"Why don't you fly with Aemond or Helaena?" he asks. It would be the logical consequence. You shake your head slightly, he notices how your shoulders tense up a bit. Your reaction is strange, it doesn't quite fit

A nervous feeling spreads within him. He notices a tingling under his skin and a burning in his stomach. Are you only flying with Aegon? He thinks of the familiarity he observed when you were flying with Sunfyre.

He wishes for that between you and him. But Aegon is hanging over you. Would your fly with him and Vermax?

"I can fly with you on Vermax if you want." the suggestion slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. In the next second, he realizes that he is testing you right now. He curses himself for it. You owe him nothing at all. He shouldn't expect anything from you.

"Your little dragon?" you laugh "No thanks."

Maybe you meant it as a joke. Maybe you were serious. He doesn't care. He feels attacked and immediately goes on the counterattack. He doesn't think and speaks out of anger.

"At least I am worthy of a dragon."

"What did you say?" immediately, hot anger burns in your eyes. Jace's gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips for a second. Then he pulls himself together again.

He wants to apologize to you. He knows that he shouldn't have said that. It is certainly hard to be the only one of your siblings not to have a dragon bound to you. Nevertheless, he says, "You understood me."

"Bastard," you spit in his face, turn around, and storm away. But you are not fast enough. He saw the tears in your eyes. Immediately, Jace felt guilty. Damn it! He wants to apologize. But he is too stubborn so he went into the other direction. You avoid him for the rest of the day. He deserves it.

He wakes up from the loud calling. Confused, he sits up in his bed. Outside, it is still pitch dark. Are they being attacked? No. Of course not. Who would dare to attack Dragonstone? No one is that foolish. Nevertheless, the voices outside sound nervous. Jace climbs out of his bed. He puts on a shirt and his coat, then steps out into the hallway. He quickly runs to his mother's chambers. She is already coming towards him with Daemon by her side.

"Mother, what happened?"

"Come with me," she replies in a serious voice. The three walk to the castle courtyard, the black night is illuminated by the moon and torches.

His mother looks up and Jace follows her gaze. He can't see anything in the darkness at first. But then a shadow appears in front of the moon.

He recognizes a dragon. Too big for Seasmoke. Maybe Silverwing? The shadow grows larger as it approaches.

But only when the giant body glides over the walls of Dragonstone does Jace realize that it is Vermithor. It is unusual for him to fly through the night. He lives reclusively in Dragonmont.

The bronze fury lands in the castle courtyard in front of them. The ground trembles beneath his body. Jace steps back in shock. He hears the dragon keepers calling excitedly.

Vermithor throws his large head to the side and then Jace sees you. Proudly, you sit on the dragon's back.

You swing out of the saddle and slide down his wing as if you had been doing it your whole life. You land elegantly next to your dragon.

You look directly at him, the moonlight makes your eyes sparkle and catches in your hair. The large head of the Vermithor right next to you as the dragon blows hot air from its nostrils.

"Not worthy of a dragon, you said?" your smile is arrogant and proud. But as you place your hand on your dragon's nose and gently stroke it, you begin to honestly smile. Your eyes sparkle with happiness, and Jace thinks you have never been more beautiful than in this moment.

You really snuck down into the Dragonmont at night and claimed Vermithor for yourself. The Bronze Fury. Jace is impressed.

You walk past them with your head held high, back into the interior of the castle. Vermithor takes off and flies into the dark night.

Jace looks at his mother, her expression is tense. His grin fades.

Daemon is the first to speak and he turns directly to Jace.

"Now it is even more important that you marry her."

Jace is confused and looks at his mother. She gives him a smile. "We have nothing to oppose against Vhagar and Vermithor."

"What do you mean?" why do they need something to oppose thes two dragons?

"When the Hightowers try to usurp the throne." Daemon begins with an annoyed voice as if it were obvious what he was talking about.

"If..." Rhanyra interrupts, but Daemon just snorts.

"Get the Higtower whore to fall in love with you then maybe we will all survive."

Anger rises in Jace at his stepfather's words. He doesn't want Daemon or anyone else to speak so disparagingly about you. You are his fiancée. Without another word, he goes back inside.

The next morning, you and Vermithor are gone. Jacaerys would bet all his possessions that you flew directly to the Red Keep. He doubts for a moment if you would come back.

Now no one can force you to live here on Dragonstone.

Now that one of the largest and oldest Targaryen dragons is bound to you, no one can force you to do anything.

The sun is just setting on the horizon when he spots Vermithor's large body in the sky. He follows you both with his gaze until the dragon disappears between the rocks into the Dragonmont.

Silverwing rushes towards Vermithor. He hears Ulf bellow a poorly pronounced Dracarys. Silverswing opens her mouth. Vermithor right in front of her. Her flames are hot enough to harm him. But she doesn't spit flames. Instead, she closes her maw again and turns away. Ulf curses on her back and shouts at his dragon to obey him. He switches to the common tongue. But Silverwing refuses, turns away, and flies back to Dragonstone.

Your laughter echoes through the air. Jace turns to you, confidently sitting firmly in your saddle, and laugh at him.

"That worked out well with your army of bastards!" you shout over to him in a mocking voice.

Of course, Silverwing would never hurt Vermithor. She is his mate. How could they forget that?

Again, you laugh. It is a malicious, arrogant laugh that makes his blood run cold.

Jace is slowly getting a headache, and the Valyrian symbols are blurring before his eyes. He has been studying for hours. Nevertheless, the words come to his lips with difficulty. He tries again and again until his own voice sounds strange.

"Gods, your High Valyrian is even worse than Aegon's."

He flinches and turns to you. Hot anger rises within him at the comparison. He really puts in the effort, never misses even one lesson and studies as often as he can. Nevertheless, he is supposed to be wors in his mother tongue than the drunk, lazy idiot? You don't seem to notice his anger.

"Well. I just wanted to return your cloak to you."

Six days he barely saw you and didn't speak to you, and now you come and bring him his cloak? You confuse him. It drives him crazy that he can't figure you out.

Every day you flew towards the Red Keep in the morning and only returned in the evening. You enjoy every second on the back of your dragon.

Jace swallows his anger, walks over to you, and takes his cloak. Your fingertips brush against each other, and Jacaerys feels as if small sparks are coursing through his fingers.

He longs to hug you.

"Thank you," he says. He would have expected you to turn around and disappear to Vermithor. You stand still and look around the room uncertainly. "Is there anything else?"

"No," you say, your gaze flicking to the side. Skepticism spreads in Jace, he doesn't know exactly why. "I wanted to ask if you would like to fly with me, Vermithor, and Vermax? My siblings don't want to fly with me every day anymore. It's not as exciting for them as it is for me. They've had their Dragons for a while now." you chew on the inside of your cheek. Your hands are trembling slightly. A sign that you are nervous. He knows this by now.

It's the first time you're actively asking if he wants to do something with you. He has to bite his lip to avoid shouting yes immediately.

"Gladly," he replies after a brief moment. He looks at you and notices that your gaze is fixed on his lips. Heat floods through him. You look up, caught off guard, and glance to the side. Your cheeks turn red.

"Then let's go," you say quickly and turn around. He follows you quickly.

Your steps are light, you almost bounce alongside him. You radiate excitement and anticipation. Jacaerys has to laugh quietly. You gently hit him on the shoulder and grin at him.

"Don't laugh at me, I've been waiting so long for a dragon," you defend yourself. Jace raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm happy for you."

Again, that incredible smile that gives him butterflies appears.

"If you want, I can help you with your Valyrian," you then suggest.

"You think you can teach me?" he looks at you challengingly. You roll your eyes.

"If I can teach that drunk, lazy idiot Aegon, then I can definitely teach you."

"That would be very nice, yes please."

You arrive at the bottom of Dragonstone. Jacaerys whistles once loudly and shortly after hears Vermax's wingbeats. His dragon lands in front of him. Jace places his hand on his nose and presses his forehead against his head. A small greeting ritual.

Then it looks like as the whole mountain is moving. Vermithor’s massive body emerges from the shadows. His head is as big as Vermax's entire body. Nevertheless, the younger dragon remains calm. He knows that he is not in any danger.

You place your hand on Vermithor's nose.

"I still have to thank you."

"For what?"

"If you hadn't made me angry, I would never have dared to claim Vermithor." you smile sincerely as you climb onto the back of your dragon.

"Making you angry is one of my special talents, Princess."

It slips out. He doesn't mean it contemptuously or even as your title. It's a pet name. He realizes this as the word leaves his lips. He is briefly afraid that you will get angry. Instead, your cheeks turn red and you suddenly seem very interested in the reins.

Jace starts moving and climbs onto his dragon as well. Vermax takes to the skies. Adrenaline flows through his body as he flies through the air on the dragon's back. He hears your laughter behind him. Vermithor's great wings cast a shadow over Jace and Vermax for a moment before you fly to the side.

In that moment, Jace is sure that you both can be happy together.

You quickly fall into a routine together. In the morning you visit your garden, then go for a ride on dragonback. In the afternoon or evening you teach him Valyrian. Either in your chambers or in his. Jace enjoys every second with you.

Seasmoke fires his flames at the feet, while Jacaerys brings Vermax back into attack position. He breathes flames at Vermithor. You duck away. The huge beast turns back towards Vermax. Jace takes a deep breath. He is tossed back and forth in the saddle as Vermax suddenly dives down. But Vermithor is too big. His claws reach for Vermax. The little dragon still tries to dodge, but the claws tear a wing. Jace flees and turns around to have you back in his line of sight.

Vermax flies right in front of Vermithor's mouth. He is close enough that the flames will swallow him. But there is no heat, no fire, nothing. You don't give the orders. You hesitate.

A warmth spreads in Jacaerys; maybe there is still hope? Maybe he can convince you to switch to his side.

But in the next moment, your face becomes rigid again. You shake yourself lightly as if you need to wake up. Vermax loses some speed. Its difficult for him to fly with the injured wing.

Jace steers his dragon below Vermithor. The older dragon whips its head around. Snaps at Vermax but misses.

You call out a valyrian command. Vermithor's massive body turns with a powerful movement sideways and downward as he chase Vermax.

It has been raining all day. Jacaerys had argued with Luke in the morning. Viserys got on his nerves. His entire morning was shit.

Then his mother also sends for him. Aegon is feeling a bit ill the, Jace has to bring Stormcloud to him. So he collects the hatchling from the dragon keepers and carries it on a pillow to the nursery. He would rather find you and spend time with you than carry around his little brother's Dragon.

When he opens the door, he is greeted by a relaxed atmosphere. The fire in the fireplace is burning, Viserys is playing on the carpet. Aegon sits in front of the fireplace with a blanket around his shoulders.

You and Baela are sitting in comfortable armchairs. In your hands, embroideries. His little brother is leaning against your leg. As he enters the room, you all look at him.

You quickly look away again, and Baela starts to giggle softly. This reaction briefly confuses him.

"Stormcloud," calls Aegon, stretching his hands out towards his little dragon. Jace goes to him and carefully places the dragon in his arms. The hatchling lets out a satisfied hum.

Jace falls back and sits next to his brother in front of the fire. He looks up at you and Balea. His stepsister is struggling to suppress her giggles. You glance at her before turning to him.

"How are you today, Jace?" you ask deliberately lighthearted.

"Good. How are you?" he asks, confused. Since when do you ask each other how you are? At least not like that.

"I´m good."

He looks at you closely. Your behavior confuses him. Just like Baleas. Since when does she giggle so foolishly?

His gaze stops on your neck. Your sun necklace is not there. He has never seen you without it. You took it off. It satisfies something deep inside him. He feels triumphant even though he hasn't won anything yet. Nevertheless, his heart beats faster.

The water is coming closer quickly. The next moment, bolts from scorpions and crossbows are raining down on you. Jace doesn't even know if they are his men or the Greens'. It doesn't matter.

One of the scorpion bolts narrowly misses Vermax's neck. The next moment Jace hears a deep, rumbling dragon scream that goes right into his bones. Something hot, wet drips into neck and on his shoulders.

Jace turns his head. The bolt has hit Vermithor in the stomach. The wound is big. But not big or deep enough to kill the dragon.

He hears your angry scream and the next moment the bronze Fury is spitting fire. You're not aiming anywhere, it's just an expression of your anger. When you're angry, your beast unleashes all seven hells for you.

"I like this one." he points to a flower with a large, purple blossom. It gives off a gentle scent. You two sit in your garden together. Your flowers all grew good down here.

Your smile slips a little and your eyes become sad.

"That's Aegon's favorite flower too." you swallow a few times.

Jacaerys expected jealousy or anger to rise up in him. It doesn't.

Instead, it makes him sad to see you so sad. It's his mother's fault.

You still miss Aegon. He notices it. Sometimes your gaze drifts into the distance. He noticed that letters in his uncle's handwriting are lying next to your pillow. He knows he shouldn't have looked, but he went closer. The paper was covered in tear stains. Despite his curiosity, his eyes didn't read the words. It's really none of his business.

"Do you love him?" the words slip out before he can stop them.

"Of course I love him. He is my brother."

"I don't mean if you love him that way."

You clench your jaw. You look to the side. Your nod is so gentle that Jace almost missed it. "Yes I loved him."

He has to know now. He gathers all his courage and reaches for your hand. You turn your head to him, looking at him in surprise. Nevertheless, you don't pull your hand away.

"Can you be honest this one time? Please. I will never mention it again. No one will find out."

You study his face before you nod again. "Go ahead and ask."

"Did you share a bed with him?"

"No." you answer, not avoiding his gaze, and he believes you. This time he really believes you. You look at him openly and continue speaking. "We're not stupid, Jacaerys. We always knew that we couldn't do that. Gods,to be honest it was hard. We kissed but never more. It's over since I came here."

Your sudden unsolicited openness surprises him, but he is grateful. He wants to return the favor. You were honest about your past. Now it's his turn.

"I kissed Baela. I had a cush on her when I was younger. There was something between us."

Your lips curl into a slight smile. He didn't expect that. More likely that you would get angry after all his accusations about you and Aegon.

You turn so that you are now facing him. You briefly squeeze his hand.

"Thank you for telling me," you reply.

"You're not surprised?"

You briefly bite your lip. This small gesture draws his gaze in, and for a brief moment, Jace wants to lean forward and place his lips on yours. The need disappears as quickly as it came. As you continue speaking, your voice sounds slightly amused.

"I already knew it. She told me."

That's the last thing Jacaerys expected. "Did she?" he thinks of the awkward, inexperienced kisses his thirteen-year-old self exchanged with Beala and cringes for himself. He notices his cheeks turning slightly red. "What did she say?" he asks, unsure if he wants to hear the answer. You laugh warmly. At that tone, his heart skips a beat.

"Not much. Just that you're quite good."

He hadn't expected that either. Your gentle tone and warm smile give him courage.

"You can judge for yourself at any time."

You roll your eyes, but there's still a smile on your lips. For a moment, you look back at him and then to the side.

"Maybe I'll do that someday."

The bolt of a crossbow hits him. Pain courses through his body. Hot blood flows from the wound. The brief moment of shock is enough for you and Vermithor to attack once more.

The sheer force with which Vermithor crashes into Vermax squeezes all the air out of his lungs. The claws of your beast ram into Vermax's soft flesh. His dragon lets out a painfull scream. The sound makes Jacaerys's eardrums almost burst. His heart breaks and pain floods through him.

Tears well up in his eyes. Vermithor hurls Vermax and him through the air. He clings to the saddle. His muscles ache. Suddenly, an unknown coldness and deep pain fill Jace. Vermax is dead. He knows it even before he sees Vermithor's bloodstained claws. Then the dragon lets go.

Vermax is thrown uncontrollably in circles towards the ground. Jace doesn't even have enough time to take a deep breath before they hit the water. Vermax's body sinks like a stone. Jacaery's clothes soak up the cold water. He is being pulled down. But he manages to break free from Vermax to swim back to the surface once more. He gasps for air. His heavy clothes want to pull him down again. The icy water feels like needles. is this how his little brother feel shortly before his death? Did Luke die the same way? Or did Vhagar tear him apart with her razor-sharp teeth before he fell into the water?

Jace notices how he is getting weaker and weaker. He loses feeling in his arms and legs. Darkness spreads at the edge of his field of vision as unconsciousness pulls at him. He has failed.

A large shadow covers the sky above him. Vermithor circles just a few meters above the water's surface. You sit on his saddle and look down into the water. Your gaze searching. And then you see him. Your eyes meet.

Since you arrived in King's Landing, you've been different. The small gestures between you that made his heart race have disappeared immediately. You no longer hold his hand. You no longer adjust his cloak for him. You no longer point to one of the flowers near you and explain to him what kind it is and how to best cultivate it.

During the discussion about the succession of Driftmark, you did not stand by his side but next to your mother.

It annoys him terribly. It gives him the feeling that you are ashamed of him. For the fact that you like him.

Rhaenyra has emphasized for days that Jace is not allowed to argue with you as long as you are in King's Landing. Alicent would seize this opportunity immediately, break off the engagement, and bring you back to the Red Keep.

It already bothers his mother that you insisted on staying another week to attend the feast for Alicent's name day. She didn't have a convincing argument to deny you. Especially because Vermithor stood behind you the entire time during the discussion.

Jacaerys swallows his anger at your behavior and does the only thing he is sure will prevent you from arguing. He completely ignores you and avoids you.

That's why he doesn't even realize how angry this makes you.

The dinner with the king was a huge disaster. The worst thing for him was that you laughed as your brothers' insult him and his brothers.

Jace hand still hurts from the blow he dealt Aemond, just like his ankle. When his uncle pushed him, he twisted his ankle. The anger is still boiling.

Without knocking, you storm into his room. He flinches in surprise and looks at you. You are still dressed in your festive clothes, your hair tied back in strict braids. The anger you radiate makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"How can you humiliate me like this?" you scream at him. He is on his feet before your words have fully echoed in the room. A hot rage courses through him. How can he hummiliate you? You are the one who turned away from him and is ashamed of him. You are the one who laughed at him today.

"What did you say?" he asks. You approach him. Your eyes are sparking with anger. Jace has to swallow at the sight. You stand just a few steps in front of him, but the tone of your voice remains unchanged as you start shouting again.

"You ignore me all evening and then you dance with my sister? In front of everyone! You pushed me aside. How could you do that?"

"You are jealous," he guesses and is surprised by it, and also by the fact that it pleases him. Did he want that? Was this his plan?Did he want to make you jealous? Did he wanted to get your attention this way? He doesn't really know himself.

"Nonsense." you shout angrily, but your gaze flickers to the side, just like always when you lie. Jace knows you by now. Even though you did everything to prevent him from doing so. You lowered your walls and let him in. You can't undo that now.

"You are jealous." this time he is sure.

"Rot in the seventh hell," you scream angrily. He knows that you only react so extremely when you are insecure. You whirl around and want to run out of the room, but Jace grabs your wrist, pulls you back, and turns you back to him.

For a second, you just look into each other's eyes. His gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. He doesn't know who leaned in first, but your lips are already crashing together before he can form a clear

thought. A shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your lips on his. Your hand buries itself in his dark curls. Jace wraps his arms around your slim body, pulling you closer to him. Your lips part slightly and he slides his tongue into your mouth. Hot desire arises within him. He can’t get enough of the feeling of your lips on his. His heart is racing so fast that he's afraid it's going to jump out of his chest. You press yourself closer to him.

You part breathlessly. His eyes are on your beautiful face. Your eyes are sparkling, your cheeks are slightly red and you are gasping for breath. Your eyes find his and your lips creep onto your face. It's a gentle, genuine smile. He can't help but smile too. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, caresses the soft skin.

He rests his forehead against yours. You lean into his touch, lean slightly forward, and kiss him once more. This time gently, just for a brief moment, like a test. Immediately, his whole body tingles again.

"Maybe I was a little jealous," you whisper. Your gaze shifts from his eyes to his lips, the redness of your cheeks intensifying. But you make no move to free yourself from his arms.

"Why?" he whispers just as quietly. This moment is terribly intimate. Jace enjoys every second he can hold you in his arms. He has longed for this. To be able to hold you. Now he feels like everything is falling into place. Now that he can hold you in his arms. He is surprised by the sudden intensity of his feelings. Maybe because he has suppressed them for a long time.

"I... maybe... maybe I don't find you as terrible as I always pretend to." you admit. Jace has to suppress a laugh.

"Is that so?" he asks. He wished you would say the words. But he knows that you won't do it. He also knows that he can't say it now. Maybe someday, but not now.

You nod. Suddenly, you are shy. He never would have thought that you could be shy. "I don't know, I can't quite understand what I'm feeling," you admit openly.

"It's okay," he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek as his other hand searches for yours. You intertwine your fingers together. Jace looks down he can get used to the sight of your hand in his and the feeling of your soft skin against his."We have time."

"Time?" you ask.

"Yes, to find out what we feel."

You smile again and search for his gaze. Your eyes sparkle.

"When we are back on Dragonstone. Then we can find out what it is between us. We can figure it out. Together." he suggests.

"Yes, I like this idea." you say. He closes his eyes for a moment, then kisses your forehead and takes a step back. Your hands however remain intertwined. Your grip tightens a little.

Hope begins to blossom in Jace. Hope that his future and his marriage won't be as dreadful as he feared. Maybe the unimaginable can come true and you can be happy together. And reunite your broken family.

You sigh but your smile remains. You also take a step back, releasing your hand from his. Immediately, he wants to hold you in his arms again. But he holds himself back. This is not the right place. It's not the right time.

Nervously you giggle and look around, then back to him. "I should go. Not that rumors would start. My mother would be furious."

Jace laughs softly. "Yes. See you tomorrow?"

You nod. "I'll come with you to the Dragon Pit to say goodbye," you say. "And after Mother's name day, I will return to Dragonstone."

Anticipation spreads within Jace. He nods. A strange mix of hope, uncertainty, and affection spreads between you. You give him another one of your beautiful smiles, lean forward, and kiss his cheek. Then you turn around and leave his chambers with red cheeks and a smile.

Neither Jacaerys nor you know that your lives will fundamentally change within the next few days and that you will never set foot on Dragonstone's soil again.

Your face is the last thing he sees before the sea swallows him. And he saw the tears on your cheeks.

Maybe you really loved him. He loved you. It didn't make a difference. It is his last thought before the darkness swallows him forever.

a/n: tbh writing this made me sad😭 I wanted to give them a happy ending so bad but I couldn´t

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I’ll crawl home to her

Pairings - Abby Anderson x Fem! Teacher! Reader

An - i love this trope of Abby with a teacher like, her coming home after a long day of patrolling and clearing out infected and her just wanting to be in your arms and hear about your day

An pt 2- hozier is slowly taking over my life him and mitski will be my downfall

Palestine aid link

Abby leaned back in the bed of the truck, her cheeks bright red from exhaustion and the heat. The setting sun blaring down on her and her group after a long day of patrolling.

She hated days like these. Having to leave you before you woke up, just to be out all day until the sun set. Manny chuckled “ahí va ella” Abby looked over at him unamused. “What’s that supposed to mean”

“Nothing Nothing Just pointing out something” he continued. The blond sighed annoyed before looking behind her at the fast moving scenery. Secretly she wondered what the world would of been like if it hadn’t ended— would she of met you, would you both of still been happy, maybe you would of met her dad.

Pushing that thought aside Abby lifted her hand waving at the guys on guard to let their group into the base. Once off the truck she avoided multiple people to not get stuck in conversation.

After turning in her guns Abby made a b-line straight for your apartment. The only thing that really mattered to her right now was to be at her home. In your hallway she hesitated before opening your door. Letting out a tired sigh she walked in.

“And that’s what I’ve been saying, I told Julia that it doesn’t matter if back in her day if—“ you stop mid conversation with Mel to see Abby standing in the doorway.

Mel took note of Abby’s exhausted appearance, patting your shoulder “I’ll see you tomorrow ok” she gave you a soft smile before leaving. Once mel was gone you opened your arms waiting for Abby to walk over.

Abby quickly pulled you into a hug taking a deep breath in just to take in your subtle perfume. “Rough day” You asked leaning back some to take a good look at her worn out face. “Yeah, just.. a lot” she sighed.

You nodded leaning up kissing her gently before stepping down, grabbing her hand and walked her over towards your bed. Abby swore up and down your kisses were the sweetest thing ever— so sweet she would get toothaches.

Setting Her on the bed you silently grabbed your first aid kit to help clean some of the cuts on the girls arms and body. Not once asking her about the people she had killed, or even wondering about the wrong she had done, only wanting to help take care of her. “Shit abs your running a fever” you frowned pulling your hands away from her forehead. “I’m gonna make you some tea ok” kissing her cheek you walked towards portable stove you had recently got preparing a fresh pot of tea.

Abby admired your figure from afar, the long grey military sweat pants that didn’t quite fit you as they were Abby’s, your dark bra and how you had your hair pulled up. She had always liked when you wore your hair naturally down but didn’t mind seeing it pulled back either.

You started to hum a lullaby as you turned the stove on. Slowly moving back and forth Abby almost thought you were nothing more than a dream, like you were a figment of her imagination.

Returning back to the blondes side you helped her out of her clothes— giving her a clean set that you had lying around from earlier times she stayed over.

After a few minutes you placed some of the tea in a mug, handing it to abby you started to stitch up a deep cut in her bicep. It amost made Abby cry how you never worried About what her hands and her body had done, never asking about who or what she had killed, only ever concerned about her no one else

Once she was taken care of you took the now empty cup from her and set it aside. Pulling the covers back you laid down in bed, taking your bra off mainly because you knew Abby liked the skin on skin connection. Waiting for the blonde to strip out of her shirt, you laid down allowing her to fall ontop of you.

You started to undo Abby’s braid as she lightly kissed along your collarbone. Raking your fingers through her hair you started to whisper. “I get it sweet girl.. I get it, it’s ok”

Massaging the girls head you started to tell her about your day. Soft and sweetly showing Abby your love “So I had taught my class about world history today, and we had—“

Abby started to doze off quickly falling asleep. Even if she had died on an assignment No grave could hold her body down she’d still crawl home to you.

[fictionismyreality3]

Hiiiiii I'm SO SO SO MADLY IN LOVE with your Stalker!Jason fic, the way you wrote it was just UGH TAKE ME (sure did put me to some quality sleep there).

I was hoping if you would write about Classmate!Jason (n kinda stalk-ish) where he is protective n stuff towards reader (much like sunshine x grumpy trope)

Love love loveeeeee your writing🖤🖤🖤

-🦇anon-

Make You Pay

Jason Todd x Reader

You’re my second emoji anon and as such I have adopted you and will not take no for an answer 😇

Tags: classmate!jason, stalker!jason, possessive!jason, jealous!jason, angry!jason, innocent!reader if you look really hard

Warnings: allusions to violence, motorcycles, stalking

Notes: no hate to surfer dudes ☮️

Your pencil hit repeatedly on the dark wood of the desk, sending little taps echoing throughout the otherwise quiet library. You had an exam in two weeks and were already struggling through the study material your professor provided for you. Passing this class seemed like a mile away. How the hell were you going to pass your biology final if the only thing you remembered was that mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell?

The only thing keeping you going at this point was picturing the cute faces of the puppies, kittens and other animals you’d get to help once you’d graduated. Using the last of your willpower, you moved on to the next slide deck, only for your laptop to give out on you, the screen going black. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey, baby, come take a break from studying.”

Okay, maybe you spoke a little too soon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the curly, blonde headed figure of Holden coming your way, a sneer on his face. Despite the fact that your skin was crawling from the pet name, you began to hastily pack up your stuff, pretending not to see him.

It wasn’t that you were the type of girl to be complacent with poor intentioned men, but Holden had obviously taken your first day of class friendless a little too close to his heart.

“C’mon, baby. I know you see me.” He said, his words with an undertone of slimy sarcasm.

Sighing to yourself, you shoved the last of your papers into your bag and turned to face him, plastering a smile on your face as you began walking to the library exit.

“Sorry, I really have to go, my friends are waiting for me.” You said politely.

Making a beeline for the exit, you glanced back at Holden, hoping he didn’t follow you, and bumped into someone, your book bag scattering across the floor.

Big, calloused hands filled your field of view, handing you your books as you frantically gathered your things. Your gaze was met with the blue-green eyes of Jason Todd.

He wasn’t someone you knew very well, usually sitting in the back of the lecture halls where you preferred the front, but you’d seen him riding around campus on his motorcycle. From the limited interaction you did have with him, his lips always seemed to be pressed in a thin line of annoyance, or pulled down in a soft frown. So, you always tried your best to cheer him up, but the most you’d ever earned was a little snicker after a ridiculously bad joke.

You wondered why he had so much to frown about.

Before now, Jason hadn’t taken much notice of you, the bubbly girl who seemed to constantly radiate some level of happiness. At most he found you less annoying than then rest of the people on campus. Maybe it was because you looked so startled, innocently glancing between him and that blonde dickhead who was constantly on your ass. Maybe it was how he noticed your hands were so much smaller than his, brushing against his skin as he handed you your notebook.

Maybe it was because you were on your hands and knees, but Jay suddenly noticed the pretty colour of your hair, and the way your clothes reflected your sunny personality. Your eyes were a little more captivating and he found himself wanting to reach out and run his thumb along your bottom lip.

He also wanted to break the nose of that surfer looking idiot who was still talking.

“Here, don’t let ‘em bother you, sweetheart.” Helping you up, Jason ushered you to continue to wherever you were going. “Thank you?” You mumbled confused, the pet name hugging you like a warm blanket.

As you were practically pushed out the library doors, you looked back to see Jason exchanging words with Holden, who was getting more and more disagreeable. You were never the type to get involved in trouble, so you quickly turned on your heel and walked away.

When he was done with asshole Henry.. Harry? Jason didn’t care, he made his way to his bike, pulling out his phone and opening up an app, technology courtesy of Bruce. He wanted to make sure you got back to the dorms safely, and the tracker he’d slipped in your book bag would ensure that.

It wasn’t anything sinister, Jason just knew now that he had found something far too precious for this world, something that was too sweet and gentle to take care of itself. That’s okay.

He would take care of you now.

You saw Jason again a few days later. Holden didn’t show up to class that week, and nobody commented on Jay’s bloody knuckles.

[thefallennightmare]

Dreamstate-Noah Sebastian x Reader[JP UNIVERSE]

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Hi my loves! JP has been around for ONE YEAR! I am so thankful for all of you. I appreciate every single one of you more than I can ever express. This one-shot takes place between chapters 29 and 30! Also please know that I do not mean any disrespect to Keaton or his memory. Everything I've ever written was done with love and appreciation for him like I've done from the beginning. 🪽🖤 I will not hold it against you if you do not want to read because of it. But please know, that it's done with the utmost respect.

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @happi-goth @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @sideeyenoah @badomensls @bellaboo967 @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @cncohshit @amelia-acero @karenfranco @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @supersquirrel1996 @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

NOAH

Blinking my eyes open, I looked around my surroundings and noticed that I was no longer in my bedroom fighting with Y/N. I was on the tour bus, our tour bus, and when I craned my head to the side to peer out the window in my bunk, I sucked in a breath at what I saw. An oddly familiar venue with a red roof. 

“What the fuck,” I muttered while rolling out of my bunk on the tour bus. “How hard did I hit my head last night?” 

During my fight with Y/N, she threw one of her sketchbooks at me in frustration and it hit me directly in the middle of my forehead. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up here in our tour bus. We didn’t have a tour planned which made this whole scene even more confusing. I stretched out my long limbs, feeling the bones pop into place, as I walked towards the front area of the bus and made it outside, wondering where the rest of the guys were. 

“Jolly? Nicholas?” I called out. 

A sudden commotion on the far end of the bus caused me to whirl around and my heart thundered in my chest with the sight before me. It wasn’t the group of people that gave me pause. It was the lone female in the group with her long blonde hair and familiar smile that made my skin slick with sweat. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm sure they've already said this but we're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows,” Nicholas smiled while extending his hand towards the familiar blonde. 

"Shit, you guys sure know how to make a girl blush," she laughed lightly while bouncing on the soles of her feet.

“Y/N,” I breathed. 

"Malcolm, your directions-." 

Just as footsteps thundered down the steps of the bus behind me, the scene around me spun on its axis and darkness crept in. Bile rose in my throat as I felt my body being lurched forward onto the cold concrete, scraping up my palms and knees. 

“I should not have had that gas station burrito,” I grumbled while clutching my stomach. 

Slowly rising to my feet, I leaned my hand up against a car I had been literally thrown in front of, suddenly making me tilt my head towards it. This wasn’t the tour bus I had stepped down moments ago. In fact, I was in an entirely different place than before. 

“This is one fucked up dream,” I dragged my hand down my face. 

An angry voice from the other side of the van had me stepping around it slowly, not wanting to be detected on the off chance this wasn’t a dream and I was sneaking up on someone who could kill me. 

"You don't have to worry about Noah hurting her. That's the farthest thing from his mind. He might be stubborn as hell but when he cares about someone, he makes sure they know that,” Nicholas smiled over towards Chase and Malcolm. 

Furrowing my brows, I glanced over to Folio, seeing him shake out his hair before putting his hat back on. "He's a Scorpio, what did you expect?" 

“That was fucking rude,” I muttered under my breath. 

"Whether or not they admit it, they both need each other," Jolly smiled down over the cliff. 

Peering over the hood of the car, I saw two faint figures on the beach and sucked in a breath; all the memories from our beach day came flooding back in as Y/N and myself waved up at the group of guys. 

“How hard did she hit me with that sketchbook?” I rubbed at my forehead, still feeling the sting from earlier. 

It was clear that I was dreaming of past moments Y/N and I shared but I couldn’t get over how real and vivid everything was. Almost as if I traveled back in time to these moments and saw it from a different perspective, not my own. 

Why was I dreaming of these moments? Did it have a meaning? Or was it just because my brain was fucked up from all of the fighting Y/N and I had gone through?

Before I could get comfortable in this dreamstate, I felt the darkness creep in on the edge of my vision once again and all at once, my body was thrown through a tunnel only to be spat out seconds later; a different scenery from the last. 

I was now in a hotel room, unsure when and where because frankly from the years of touring the hotel rooms began to blend together. It was then that I got a look at myself in the reflection of the mirror in the room and I sighed. My hair was short, indicating what I already knew. I’d been jumping in between moments from my past. 

“Hi, angel.”

“Hi,” a soft voice broke through the quiet of the room, causing me to look over at the bed. 

No. 

My past self sat on the bed with Y/N, her head in my lap as I ran my fingers through her hair. It was evident no one could see me because I was standing at the foot of the bed, watching as my past self lowered his lips onto Y/N's, capturing them softly. 

Our first kiss. 

My heart fluttered in the confines in my chest, remembering the feeling that filled me that day. Through the dread and intense sadness from losing my best friend that day, Y/N’s unwavering comfort eased away the darkness that crept in. 

“About time, huh? I’d been trying to set you two up for years.” 

My body froze at the voice that lingered in the air; the familiar voice that I hadn’t heard in years.  I choked while whirling around at the voice, ignoring the couple in the bed who were muttering something about Mario Kart. 

The room spun rapidly before I could get my bearings, the floor getting ripped out from beneath me and my body slammed back and forth against the void before I fell onto a couch in yet another room. This one I immediately recognized, all of those feelings of hurt and abandonment crept back in as I let out a shuddering breath. 

My past self, donning those ridiculous braids, dragged a finger over the large tattoo on Y/N’s back as she cuddled the pillow close to her chest, a soft giggle echoing in the room. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

My eyes screwed shut, knowing what was going to come next. The calm before the storm. All because I asked a stupid question. 

“Think of how far you’ve come from this moment, Noah. It was rough getting there but it was worth it.”

Snapping my eyes open, I glanced around the room looking for his face. It was his voice, surely he had to be here. 

“Where are you?” I said. 

As I blinked, the scene changed yet again and now I was standing in the rain, it chilling me to the bone. Wrapping myself deeper into my hoodie, I gazed around to see my past self standing in the rain as well with Y/N, trying to stop her from getting in her car. 

“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 

“No it is, actually.” My past self nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”

She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” I watched myself enunciate every word with a pound fist to my chest. 

When Y/N remained silent, I grasped her face to bring her into my warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”

The pain in my own chest was evident, remembering how gut wrenching it felt to ask repeatedly what Y/N wanted. That night had started off great, only to be ruined by Bailey. It was my fault ultimately for not being clearer about our breakup. I tried not to dwell on it much because of how far Y/N and I have come since this night. 

A snicker sounded from my left. “Did you really quote The Notebook? Never pegged you as a romance film kind of guy.” 

Looking at the voice, I let out a gasp when the all too familiar smirk appeared on a face I hadn’t seen in years; one that my heart yearned to see again. His form began to fade in the darkness as it danced around both of us, dragging us back down. 

“No. Please, wait!” I reached for him only to be thrown into yet another memory. 

How long had I been asleep? Did this fucking sketchbook render me useless? Was I passed out on the floor of our bedroom? 

Another thing I couldn’t figure out: why was I being thrusted into my own memory lane?

A commotion of voices halted me as I stood in a crowd of people, still undetected, and when I caught a flash of red, my breath caught in my throat knowing exactly what memory I’d been thrown into. I no longer was soaked to the bone due to the rain; I was dry. 

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.

The music echoed loudly in the room and I frantically looked for the couch, knowing my past self would have been sitting there. I watched as he rose from his seated position and started to push his way through the crowd, looking for Y/N as our song played; a siren call looking for their lost soulmate.

“This was one of the most irritating moments of my life,” I sighed while crossing my arms over my chest, watching as our past selves kept missing each other. 

“Do you know how hard it was to make sure you guys found each other at the right moment that night?” That voice snickered behind me. 

Whirling around, I saw those eyes that shined bright with so much light. Just like before, the second I caught sight of him, he disappeared before I could grasp him. I wasn’t sure what was more irritating: being thrown around in an imaginary void or not being able to fully see the presence that had been following me. 

For quite longer than I thought, apparently. 

Expecting to be dragged down into another memory, I simply turned on my heels to see I was now standing in a hotel hallway. My past self stood no more than two feet in front of me, hand rubbing at his chest. The words he muttered fell on deaf ears as my eyes locked with the man holding my past self up. I knew I felt someone's arms around me that day, keeping me from falling to my knees. 

“Keaton, I need you, man. Please tell me everything will be alright.” 

As a soft breeze blew past the three of us in the middle of the hallway, I kept my eyes locked with the materializing figure over my past self’s shoulder. 

“You’ve been with me this entire time,” I breathed with the realization. 

He wore a soft smile as he nodded, before slowly fading away. “It’s okay.”

Then all at once, the world around me shifted one final time, throwing me back into my bedroom at home and I fell onto the bed with a grunt. It seemed like I was back to where I was before I went on a dream walk down memory lane, Y/N’s scattered sketchbook on the floor at my feet. Movement in front of me caught my eye as I slowly rose and tentatively walked over to the bathroom, seeing Y/N and me standing there. Both of them were standing in the middle of the bathroom with bright and hopeful smiles. 

“I don’t remember this,” I said with my hands on my hips. 

I watched as Y/N wrapped herself around his midsection, both of them swaying to something before they looked over to the phone on the bathroom counter with even wider smiles. 

"Should we post it?" She asked.

Other me smiled bright, love filling those once dark eyes. "Instagram story. On there less than twenty four hours. Once we post it, lets turn off our phones to just focus on us."

“How’s she doing?

Jumping at the voice over my shoulder, I finally saw him standing in front of me and not in the ghost form he’d been all those times before. 

“Keaton,” I breathed, almost immediately wrapping my arms around him in a hug. 

His infectious laughter echoed when I tackled him. “Good to see you too, Noah.” 

We stayed like that for a long moment, trying so hard to ingrain how it felt to hug my best friend again into my memory and when we eventually pulled away, I sniffled while whipping away a stray tear. 

“I miss you so much, man,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“I’m always with you, Noah. Right here,” Keaton pointed to my chest then to the tattoos on the side of my hands. “And right there.” 

Ignoring the couple behind me in the bathroom, not knowing what they were waiting for, I kept my attention on Keaton. 

“You know, when I'm sleeping I sometimes talk with you. But every time I wake up, it’s like I'm waiting for a miracle.” 

I sniffled one more time with a shrug before continuing. “Maybe when the night comes, I'll find you in another world.”

“I’m not the miracle you need, Noah. But believe, it’s closer than you think.”

“Huh?” I asked, not quite sure what he meant by that.

“How’s she doing?” Keaton asked again, the colors in the room suddenly fading away, only to be replaced with a bright white light. 

My brows furrowed. “Who? Y/N?” 

Instead of answering, his smile reached his ears and bid me a final goodbye with a wink before turning on his heels and walking farther into the void of white. 

“What do you mean?!” I called out after him, desperately wanting to run after him but my feet wouldn’t move, feeling heavier than concrete. 

“In time the price of peace will cost us everything but all the love you leave carries on,” Keaton’s voice spoke in my mind one final time. 

A loud gasp fell from my lips as I sat up in bed, covered in a thick sweat as it lingered on every inch of skin. The fabric of my shirt clung to my back as I frantically looked around the room, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest. I was back in my bedroom and noticed that the sketchbook wasnt where it previously was. Matter of fact, neither was the broken picture Y/N threw at me before the sketchbook. 

My gaze locked on the date that was shining bright on our alexa home screen causing me to cock my head slightly at it, air catching in my throat. 

No. 

No way. 

It was not possible. 

“Clearly I’m dreaming again,” I murmured to myself before pursing my lips and pinching my thigh. 

“Nope, not dreaming,” I yelped in pain. 

The bed shifted next to me causing me to look down at the naked form on Y/N as she lay in a tangled mess of bedsheets and blankets. 

“Hmm,” she hummed with a smile after setting her phone down on the pillow next to her. “Astrid and Faye want to meet up with me today. I guess they both have some special news they want to tell me.” 

I blinked. “Huh?” 

“I guess something happened after The Ghost Inside set with Faye last night and Astrid found out something pretty important,” Y/N said. 

I could barely speak, still being dumbfounded with the date on the Alexa home screen. 

“Maybe I'll invite them over once I'm back home from the art store. I figured it'll be alright since you have therapy and we’re not going to dinner until four,” she sat up while letting the sheet fall to her lap. 

I was still in a state of shock that I couldn’t even gaze at her perfect breasts, my mind whirling with so many different emotions. All I could do was numbly nod.

“I must say,” she smirked while brushing away the hair from my face, laying a kiss on my lips. “It’s always great to wake up to you every morning. But on my birthday, it’s extra special.”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Distracted (Kate Stewart x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You get horribly distracted around Kate leading you to agree to do something that may just make the entire thing worse.

Words: 8.5k

Warnings: smut, fake married, one bed trope, oral sex, boss/employee relationship, swearing, gross middle aged men

“Are you listening?”

“Hm?”

You looked up, finding dark eyes resting on you, a frown pulling down the corners of a mouth that had no right to look that good while annoyed with you. Kate Stewart, sitting across from you, lent back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. Which only made the listening thing more difficult when temptation was pushed up in a very pleasing way. 

“You’re not,” Kate said. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked. 

“You’re not listening at all,” she said. 

It was with great effort that you dragged your eyes back up to her face. Her lips were pursed and you sighed, slumping in your seat. 

“Sorry,” you said. 

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, “you’re usually much better at pretending like you’re listening.”

A small chuckle reverberated in your chest but all you could do was shake your head. You couldn’t tell her the exact issue because then she’d know the exact issue. Which was you finding her incredibly distracting. Because she was incredibly gorgeous. And you wanted to put your mouth on her. All of her. 

“I guess I’m just tired,” you said, “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately.”

Mostly because any time you closed your eyes you saw her. Usually doing things that were not appropriate to say out loud in the workplace. Especially to the boss. Especially when it was about the boss. And your fantasies about her. 

“You should talk to medical about that,” she said. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you replied with a shrug. 

“If it’s affecting your work, you should have that checked out,” she said. 

She looked down to the tablet in front of her. A lock of blonde hair swung forward and you clenched your fingers to keep from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear again. You squeezed your eyes closed and tilted your chin down, pushing the impulse down as far as it would go. 

“So we’ll be leaving on Friday,” she said. 

“Leaving?” You really wished you’d been listening. 

“For Scotland. We’ll be gone for the weekend. Pack warm,” she said, glancing up at you. 

“Because we’ll be… doing… important work,” you said, nodding slowly. 

“We’re going undercover to root out the nonhuman at this event,” she said, “they don’t know we’ve realised they’ve begun impersonating one of the people that will be there. So I’ve accepted the invitation and you’re my plus one.” 

You could only gape at her. 

“You really heard none of that, did you?” The iciness had begun to melt and the amusement was beginning to shine through. 

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. When you looked back to her, you made a concentrated effort not to look at the tantalising swell of her breasts or the exposed skin at her collarbone. Her lips had begun to lift at the corners and relief was sweet. 

“So the whole weekend?” you asked. 

“Leaving Friday, returning Monday morning,” she confirmed. 

“And I need fancy clothes, right? Formal, rather,” you said when she raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Best to be prepared,” she replied. 

“I’m sure I can leave the bikini at home,” you quipped. 

There was a moment when her eyes seemed to darken as they looked at you. You were sure you were seeing something, that it was just a change in the lighting. 

“Perhaps for the best,” was her only reply. 

_____*****_____

Friday afternoon came around far too quickly for your liking. Sitting on a train with Kate was alright. Working on separate things, it was quiet, comfortable, barely different from being in the office with her. The air was warm and when you looked, quite a nice view was going past the window. 

Kate groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples as she flung her tablet down. You glanced up, nudging your open bag of crisps in her direction. She looked at you before taking one, crunching down on the potato. 

“Problem?” you asked. 

“I did not get into this line of work to be dealing with finances,” she said, “I’m not a bloody accountant.” 

“No, you’re better. You’re every job rolled up into one,” you said. 

“Just once I’d like it if someone else could put out the fires,” she said, taking another crisp. 

“Unfortunately we don’t have anyone better,” you replied. 

She sighed and her fingers returned to her temples. You nudged the undrunk cup of tea towards her. The smile she offered you was beleaguered and put upon. You nodded to it and she rolled her eyes, picking it up and pressing it to her lips. You waited until you saw her swallow, throat bobbing in a way that made you want to press your lips to her skin and make her do it again for a completely different reason. 

“You need to stay hydrated,” you said, “and not just drink coffee all day.”

“You’re not my doctor,” she said. 

“But I know you well enough to know you haven’t had any water today,” you replied, “or enough sleep I’d imagine.”

“Speaking of sleep,” she said, leaning forward, chin resting in interlocking fingers, “you seem more alert today.”

“Oh?” You weren’t sure where she was going. 

“You’ve been sleeping better, then?”

“Oh.” You hadn’t, “I suppose.”

You’d been making a more concentrated effort to not be caught daydreaming about her. Certainly not in front of her. You didn’t need her to look into it more or force you to talk to one of the doctors when you knew the issue. And you certainly had no interest in explaining the issue. 

You thought you’d rather let the world swallow you up than do that. 

“Are you going to tell me this fabulous secret to getting more sleep?” she asked, snagging another one of your crisps. 

“Tire yourself out,” you said, thinking about how you usually helped yourself get to sleep at night. All that fantasising had to come in useful eventually. 

“And how would you suggest I do that?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Well, what do you do?” she asked. 

Your cheeks heated and you blinked at her, mouth falling open. There was no way to answer that appropriately. She waited patiently before she seemed to notice she wasn’t getting an answer. Her eyes slipped down your body before her tongue dragged over her lower lip. 

“I see,” she said, voice lower than usual. 

“I’m not suggesting you… it’s not… you do?” You weren’t even sure what you were saying at that point. 

“I think I do,” she said, leaning back in her chair, bringing the cup of tea to her smirking lips. 

“Right well, I’m going to go… get you some water,” you said, fleeing the scene. 

When you returned she said nothing more about the conversation you’d been having, squinting down at the tablet. She took the water from you with a perfunctory thank you before she fumbled in her bag. Dark framed glasses were placed on her nose and you lost your breath. 

You didn’t bother going back to your report, staring at her instad. You hadn’t seen her in the glasses before, and now you had, you knew they’d be playing a role in your fantasies from now on. You took a deep drink from your own water, knowing you had to look away but not able to. She was entirely too sexy with those heavy frames resting on her face. 

She glanced up, brown eyes finding yours from behind glass. You were quick to look back down at your laptop as if you hadn’t been staring before darting up again. 

“I know. Not one word. Growing older comes with some serious caveats,” she said.

“I like them,” you said, “they suit you.”

“Psh,” she said, flapping her hand at you but you could see the pleased tilt to her smile. 

You continued working in silence until the train pulled to a stop. Rain was lashing the window and it was with difficulty that you navigated your luggage to the front of the station. Kate was holding the umbrella over your head, sheltering you as best she could. 

Holding the door open, the driver UNIT had organised took the bags from you. You slid into the backseat with a sigh, leaning back in the soft leather. You closed your eyes, relaxing into the warmed chair. 

“Tired?” Kate asked. 

“I think it’s better if we don’t start that conversation again,” you said, “or else I’ll be forced to throw myself out of this car while it’s moving.” 

“Point well made,” she said. 

You slipped back into silence, the night pressing in at the window. You could see in the reflection she was also looking out her window, watching the scenery go by. The way she seemed to soften as she thought made you smile. Watching her when she didn’t think she was being watched was one of those things you rarely got to indulge in. You never failed to enjoy it when you could. Unguarded Kate felt like a privilege. 

“Here you are, ma’am,” the driver said, pulling up on a gravelled drive. 

“Thank you,” she said, pushing the door open. 

She held the umbrella above as you grabbed the bags before you looked up. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed. 

“What?” she asked. 

“We’re staying in a castle. A literal castle. Kate, this is a castle,” you said, turning to look at her. 

The smile on her face was amused and a tad fond at your wide eyed wonder. Her hand landed on the small of your back, leading you towards the door. 

“Try to look like you belong,” she murmured, leaning closer to you. 

You shivered at her warm breath hitting your skin. She held the door open for you, then shook the rain out of her umbrella. After placing  it in the holder waiting by the door, she swept you to the front desk. 

“Stewart, checking in,” she said to the young woman behind the counter. 

“Ah yes, we have you right here Mrs and Mrs Stewart,” she said, tapping at the keyboard of her computer. 

Your cheeks heated and you opened your mouth to correct her. Kate pinched your hip, effectively silencing you. Your mouth shut with a snap, dragging your eyes over to her. She raised her eyebrows at you but you had no way to answer her. 

“Alright, Wesley will show you up to your room,” she said. 

A man had appeared behind you, taking the bags from you. Kate walked beside you up the stairs, her hand close enough to brush against yours. You glanced at her again, finding her already looking at you with a small smile. Wesley stopped outside a door, the key clunking in the lock. 

The door opened onto an expansive suite, rich and luxurious. He put your bags down in the bedroom, lush carpet keeping his footsteps silent. He nodded to the two of you before closing the door. 

“Kate?” you whispered. 

“Sorry about that. They’re very strict about the kind of plus one we can bring to these events,” she said, walking away from you, leaving you gaping in the sitting area. 

“I dunno about this,” you said, following her. 

“You really weren’t listening when I explained this,” she said, ending on a laugh. 

You stopped, realising there was only one bed. A very large, very soft looking bed. But only one. For the both of you. To share. 

Oh no. 

“They think we’re married,” you said, voice unsure and small. 

“Newlyweds, in fact,” she replied over her shoulder, “do you want to shower first?” 

“Uh, no, you go ahead,” you said, “what do you mean they think we’re newlyweds?”

“They didn’t have a wife on file for me. I had to let them know it was a new development,” she said. 

She wandered into what you thought was the bathroom. Her gasp had you rushing in behind her. Crashing into her back, your hands clutched at her hips to keep the two of you upright. 

“What is it?” you asked. 

“Look at that tub. The things I’ll do to that tub,” she all but moaned. 

Your cheeks heated again and you stepped back. 

“I’ll uh, leave you alone with that,” you said. 

“Quite right,” was her response. 

You closed the door on the bedroom, curling up on the sofa, facing an already lit fireplace. You stared into the flames, trying to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t seriously be about to spend the weekend pretending to be your boss’s new wife. Your life had stopped making sense. 

“Alright, you're up.”

You startled, not realising how long you’d been sitting there, trying to wrap your head around your situation. Kate was there in a set of sensible pyjamas, looking much more relaxed than she had all day.  

“Right,” you said. 

Getting up on wobbly knees, you passed her, rifling through your bag to find your own pyjamas. Not sensible, an old pair of shorts and an oversized shirt, you felt a flush of embarrassment. You hadn’t thought she’d be seeing them. You might have picked something that made you look a bit better than old clothes. 

You took longer in the bathroom to shower and brush your teeth than was strictly necessary, but you figured you had the right after having this whole thing sprung on you. Gathering your courage, you stepped back into the bathroom. 

The light was soft, a warm glow, the lamps on either side of the bed lit up. Kate was sitting in the bed, glasses perched on the end of her nose as she looked over a file in her hands. You froze, not realising that this was something you wanted to see. But now you couldn’t look away. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the right side of the bed,” she said, glancing up at you from over the top of those thick frames. 

“Oh, uh, no, that’s fine,” you replied, finally moving again. 

Climbing into the bed beside her felt odd. Kate was usually so professional, all buttoned up and at a distance. This was so far outside the realms of your understanding you were certain you’d slipped into an alternate timeline. In the bed beside you she was all soft and tired, too domestic for you to be seeing. 

“Tomorrow we have quite a busy day,” she said, plucking the glasses off her face. 

“So we should sleep now,” you said, nodding. 

“Indeed.” Her eyes swept over you for a moment, “but perhaps we don’t engage in our tiring activities to tempt sleep.”

“Okay, I’m ignoring you now,” you said, your embarrassment growing to a point you couldn’t handle anymore. 

You rolled over, her chuckle warming you more than the down quilt you were burying yourself in. Squeezing your eyes closed, you waited for the lights to go out. 

“Goodnight,” Kate whispered across the expanse of the bed before the lights went out. 

It shouldn’t have felt impossible to relax in the bed, given it was big enough to not even notice another person was in it. Kate was so far away from you, you could barely feel her when she shifted on the mattress. On the edge of the bed, trying to give her more room, you held yourself so tight there was no opportunity to fall asleep. 

A warm hand curled around your arm, tugging on you until you rolled onto your back. 

“If you stay over there you’ll fall out,” Kate’s gravelly voice said from across the expanse. 

You let her manoeuvre you into a more comfortable position, closer to her than before but still not close enough to really feel her. Her hand disappeared and you were left alone again. Her soft breaths were the only thing you could hear in the darkness. You tried to match your own breathing to them, hoping it would help you relax. She shifted and you froze. 

This was a terrible idea. 

After hours of doing your best to fall asleep, after what felt like minutes once you were, a strong hand was softly shaking you awake. You blinked into the sunlight, groggy and unsure of yourself. 

“Rise and shine. Breakfast will be served in half an hour.”

You grumbled, pushing yourself up into a seated position, hair a tangle around your face. Kate was standing at the side of the bed, looking down at you, already dressed and looking perfect. You blinked again, rubbing at your eyes, trying to clear away the haze. 

“Right, okay, yes,” you said. 

Pushing the duvet off your legs, you stood, stumbling for a moment before she caught you. You dragged your eyes up to her face, finding her so close. You could feel the curves of her body, the brush of the wool of her jumper, the scent of her perfume clinging to her skin. 

“Careful,” she murmured. 

You jerked out of her hold, stumbling over to your bags again. You didn’t look at her as you scrabbled for clothes. Closing yourself in the bathroom, you took a deep breath, trying to push away the tiredness clawing at your eyes. One weekend, you could get through it. For Kate, you’d do a lot worse. 

“Alright,” you said, exiting the bathroom, “let’s do this thing.”

She raised an eyebrow at you from her spot on the sofa. You waited until she shook her head and stood, holding an arm out to shuffle you towards the door. 

“Is this what you’re like before you’ve had your morning coffee?” she asked. 

“I suppose,” you replied, “no one ever really sees it.”

“Lucky me.”

The dining room was a hotbed of old masculine activity. You felt immediately out of place, in your jeans and jumper and non executive position in your organisation. Kate lifted her chin, staring down the room like she was in charge. Her hand settled on the small of your back again, leading you over to an empty table. 

“Coffee?” she asked. 

“You’re a goddess,” you said, sinking down onto the chair she’d held out for you. 

She lingered a moment, looking down at you with a wide eyed gaze. You blinked, staring up at her, waiting for an admonishment. It never came. 

“One cappuccino,” she said, placing a cup down in front of you. 

“I could get used to this treatment,” you said. 

“Kate,” a booming voice interrupted before she could say anything, “there was a rumour going around you might not make it this year.”

“And yet here I am,” she replied, shaking the hand of the middle aged man in a suit that probably cost more than your rent for an entire six months. And you lived in the heart of London. 

“And this must be the new Mrs Stewart,” he said, turning his attention to you. 

You got to your feet, holding a hand out to him. He brought it up to his mouth, lips brushing the skin of the back of your hand. Kate reached out, an arm wrapping around your waist, hand resting on your hip. It was a surprisingly possessive gesture and you were so focused on the warmth of her palm seeping through your layers you missed what he said next. 

“Sorry, she’s a little tired this morning. Unfortunately we didn’t get as much sleep as we would have liked,” Kate said. 

“Ah yes, newlywed bliss. I miss those days,” he said with a sage nod. 

Your cheeks heated again and you couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Kate’s warm chuckle was the only thing keeping you holding it together. Lips pressed to your temple and you startled. 

“Good work, Kate. She’s a beauty,” he said by way of parting. 

She gave you a squeeze before releasing you. You sunk down onto the chair again, wrapping your hands around the warm cup she’d brought you. Sitting across from you, the table was small enough her foot brushed against yours. 

“Sorry about that,” she said. 

“Who was that?” you asked, finally taking a sip of coffee. Of course it was perfect. Of course she’d managed to know your order without being told. Of course she did. 

“Donovan. Head of homeland intelligence. He’s never been best pleased with our interference,” she replied, looking at you over the rim of her own cup. 

“Which explains why he was… flirting. That was what he was doing, right?” you asked.

“His version of it, yes. Bumbling fool that he is,” she said, “I should have warned you. People might use you to try and get the inside scoop on… me, I’m afraid.”

“I think they’re going to be disappointed. I’m a pretty loyal gal,” you said. 

She reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together on top of the table. Your heart skipped a beat and for just a moment it was easy to believe the fiction you’d started. She took another drink from her cup, foot nudging yours under the table. 

“You’ve always been good to me,” she said. 

“It’s pretty easy,” you replied with a small shrug. 

“I’m rather lucky to have you,” she said. 

You looked at her from under lowered lashes, not sure what else to say. Anything more felt like you’d be slipping into dangerous territory where she might work out that your feelings were a bit more than professional. You didn’t want to be reassigned to a new division. 

Breakfast passed with warm looks shared over food and too many introductions with important men and their wives as they tried to sniff out the competition. Kate bestowed smiles on you like they were free and the way she kept finding reasons to touch you was making your head spin. 

And you were no closer to figuring out who the imposter was. 

“Will you be okay on your own?” she asked once breakfast was done and you were about to split off. 

“I’m sure I can manage,” you said, smiling up at her. 

“That’s my girl.”

Her lips brushed your forehead and your breath caught in your chest. She gave your hand a squeeze before leaving you with the wives of the men she was going to investigate. 

“Come on, love, we’ll take care of you.”

An arm threaded through yours, tugging you away from the retreating back of Kate. She glanced over her shoulder one last time before the doors were closed between the two of you. 

“Ah, new love. We promise you’ll survive without her,” Elaine said, leading you into the sitting room. 

“No, I know,” you stumbled over your words, “that’s not…”

“Relish these early days, my dear. Being this smitten won’t last forever and then it will be boring drudgery day in and day out,” she said, steamrolling over your words. 

“And weekends away in Scottish castles,” you said. 

The tittering laughs of the other wives made you look from face to face, trying to work out what was so funny. Elaine tightened her arm around yours, giving you an indulgent smile. 

“I see why she likes you,” she said, “hard as nails that one but I suppose she has to be when she’s in the boy’s club.”

“Really?” No one at work would describe Kate as hard as nails. Kind, compassionate, tough at times but not some kind of steel lady. 

“Oh yes. She holds her own with the men,” one of the other women, Helen, said, settling on an upholstered settee. 

A swell of pride wasn’t what you’d been expecting but the distaste at the assumption she might not be up to it was. Of course Kate could hold her own. She was one of the most capable people you’d ever met. 

“I bet you give her a run for her money,” Elaine said. 

“Oh, I’m not sure-” you tried to say. 

“But then you’re such a pretty young thing I’m sure you have her wrapped around your little finger,” Elaine continued, 

You were not going to like the rest of the day if this was anything to go by. 

After hours of invasive questions you did your best to dodge, you finally managed to get a moment to yourself, slipping away to your room upstairs. You were no closer to figuring out who was the disguised alien and all you felt was sympathy for Kate for dealing with this alone for years. Staring out the window on the expansive grounds, rain lashing at the windows, dark clouds pressing in, you tried to work through anything you might have learnt. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

“Hello, wife,” you said, turning to look at Kate as she shut the door with her foot. 

“Mm, I could get used to such a warm greeting,” she said, sauntering towards you with one hand in her pocket. 

“Any luck?” you asked. 

“None,” she replied, “you?”

“Well, all the women here seem to think I’m young and pretty enough to have you wrapped around my finger,” you said with a small shrug, “so nothing new.”

Her warm chuckle was throaty, making a shiver go down your spine. If only they knew who was really the one wrapped around a finger. If she asked, you’d impale yourself on the gate out front. Which would be concerning if you really thought about it. 

“The ruse is going well then,” she said, “I spent the morning fielding questions about how I managed to convince you to marry me.”

“Oh, it was definitely the pay rise that came with it,” you said. 

“Undoubtedly,” she chuckled. 

She stood beside you, looking out on the rain. Shoulder to shoulder, you stayed in silence for a moment. 

“These people suck, Kate. I don’t know how you do it,” you said. 

“They don’t teach diplomacy in university but my god, I think they should,” she replied. 

“Sorry,” you said, duly chastised. 

“Oh no, you’re absolutely right. They’re an insufferable lot with too much ego and not enough sense between them to know when to quit,” she said. 

You pressed your lips together trying to keep your laughter in, but once the first giggle slipped past you couldn’t stop. Her own face lit up, a smile spreading, eyes sparkling when she caught your eye. Her shoulder brushed yours as she lent closer, entering into your personal space. 

“There’s no one I’d rather suffer through this weekend with than you,” she said, “you’ll at least see the humour in it when they inevitably put their foot in it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The way she was looking at you made you forget that this was all a lie. That you weren’t there with her for a ruse to find an alien. That there was something more between the two of you. You wished there was. 

“Now, chop chop, we need to get dressed for dinner,” she said, breaking the moment. 

“Oh god,” you groaned. 

“Don’t be like that. If you’re lucky, there’ll be dancing.”

That thought didn’t comfort you as you threw on your dress and did your hair all pretty. Kate was gallant enough to let you take the bathroom, giving you the space to panic in peace as you prepared your game face. You weren’t one for fancy dinners and dancing. More like late night take away food and lounging on the sofa. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you took a deep breath. You looked up, finding Kate staring at you, lips parted, something in her gaze that had your skin heating. Something about it was addictive and you wanted more. You always wanted more with her. 

“Did I do okay?” you asked, voice soft, unsure, hand smoothing over the silk of your skirt. 

“Wonderfully. I’ll be the luckiest person in that room tonight,” she said, taking slow sauntering steps towards you. 

Your eyes skated over her body. The suit she was in was tailored to her body and your mouth grew dry. It wasn’t that different from how she usually dressed at work, if only a touch more formal. Her white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be tantalising, and having the long column of her neck on display like that was making you lose your train of thought. You had to take a deep breath to chase away the thoughts of leaning forward and brushing your lips over her pulse point. 

“Maybe I should make formal wear a requirement for your position,” she said, her eyes sweeping down your body then back up. 

“I think that would be abusing your position of power,” you said, cheeks heating up. 

“Quite right,” she said, stepping back, the familiarity disappearing from her face, “I suppose we should head down to dinner.” 

She held her arm out to you, your hand threading through her elbow. Leading you down the stairs, you could hear music coming from the back of the castle. You took a deep breath and she paused a moment around the corner from the open doors. 

“Ready?” she asked. 

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied. 

She lingered another moment and you thought she might be about to say something more. But then she put on a pleasant smile and steered you into the ballroom. 

The room was lit by crystal chandeliers, warm light, soft and flattering, beautiful in a way that was hard to replicate for less money. The hardwood floors were polished and at the far end a string quartet were playing lovely music. Waiters were wandering around with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres and the crowd of twenty people made the entire place feel empty and too big for their gathering. 

“This is eerie,” you said. 

“It’s a show of power. ‘Look how much money we have, beg us for some of it to keep your lights on’,” she murmured in your ear, “look suitably impressed. Here comes Donovan.”

“Ladies, you’re the last to arrive to our little gathering,” Donovan said, approaching the two of you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said, smiling at him. 

“I hear you both cut out of the activities early this afternoon. Enjoying your suite in your newly wedded bliss?” he asked. 

Your stomach roiled at the implication. 

“I’m sure you remember what it’s like having a beautiful new wife,” Kate said, her arm once again curling around your waist. 

“Indeed I do.” His eyes swept over your body and you did not feel the same warmth you had with Kate, “you’re a lucky son of a gun, Stewart.”

“Don’t I know it,” she said. 

She pulled you half a step closer. Your body rested against the length of hers. Her hand rested on your hip and you curled an arm around her waist too. She looked down at you, smiling softly. You found yourself smiling up at her, not able to help yourself when she was looking at you like that. 

“Harold, are you bothering the young people?” 

Elaine slipped her arm through Donovan’s smiling at the two of you. 

“Oh yes, you make a handsome couple,” she said, looking at the two of you. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

“It’s nice to see Kate finally settling down again. She’s been alone too long,” she said, “you’ve done her the world of good. Look at that glow.”

Her arm tightened around you, keeping you pressed along the long line of her body. 

“I’m not doing much,” you said. 

“You’re doing more than you know,” Kate murmured, lips brushing your temple. 

“See, Harold, I told you their love was real,” she said, “you should hear how that one talks about Kate.”

“How do you talk about me?” she asked, looking down at you, that twinkle back in her eyes. 

“Like a normal person would,” you said, that sense of embarrassment welling up again. 

“She thinks the world of you,” Elaine said. 

“Quite right,” she said, giving you one of those little smirks that had your heart skipping a beat, “luckily, I feel the same way.”

You felt yourself leaning closer to her, getting lost in her eyes. Soft fingers gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, lingering on your jaw long after it was necessary. Your lips parted, an ache starting in your chest, wanting to lean forward and close the distance, to taste her, to fall into her well of gravity. 

“Oh honey, the dancing has started.”

You blinked, coming back to the moment. Leaning away from her, you took a deep breath, trying to settle your heart. Her gaze lingered, before she turned away, watching the couples begin to dance on the floor. 

“Do you feel like there are less people here than this morning?” you asked, trying to count all the people.

“I think you might be right.” Dark eyes swept over the crowd, assessing the number of people in the ballroom, “that’s concerning.”

“They're not dead, right?” you asked.

“It’s too soon to tell,” she replied, then looked down at you, “I’m sure they’re fine.”

A stab of fear went through you. Sure, you were used to complicated situations, but killer aliens were more the purview of the Doctor than you. Kate’s arm tightened around you again, her steady body keeping you from falling apart in front of everyone. Your unsure smile seemed to amuse her more than worry her.

“Let’s dance,” she said, “see who is still here.”

She swept you onto the floor. Your hand settled on her shoulder, the other clasped in hers. She was perfunctory in her movements, keeping to the beat but not as graceful as you might have once thought. Still, being within the circle of her arms, bodies brushing together, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, it made your heart beat hard.

“At least three of the men are gone,” she said, pulling you closer, lips brushing your ear with each murmured word.

“But you saw them before returning to the room?” you asked.

“Mm,” she hummed, “keep an eye out for someone who is trying to get anyone alone.”

“What if they’re just trying to get off with someone?” you asked.

“Then that will be awkward for a moment but at least they won’t be dead,” she chuckled. 

Her hand was warm as it skimmed over the skin of your back before it settled in the curve of your spine. Your breath caught and her eyes flicked back to you, an eyebrow pulling up. Your cheeks heated and you looked away, focusing on the couples dancing over her shoulder. 

Helen was leaning over Elaine’s shoulder, whispering to her. Elaine stood, shooting a look over at the two of you before a small titter came from their lips. Older lady disapproval. That cut you deep to the core.

“I do look okay, right?” you asked.

“Darling, you’re beautiful,” she said, “dazzling. I doubt these men have seen anything so wonderful in many years. Donovan keeps looking at you like you’re something to eat.”

“I wish you hadn’t told me that,” you said.

“I agree, that went a bit too far. No one needs to know that about Donovan,” she replied, giving you a small smile, “now careful.”

She dipped you, giving you the chance to see the people behind you. Back arched, you waited a moment before she pulled you up again, closer than before, chest to chest. Your curves were melded against hers, and you could feel her breath brushing over the skin of your throat. You shuddered, not able to stop it. She chuckled, the vibrations reverberating through you like a tidal wave. 

“I think you’re better at this than I am,” she said.

“Well, I did take a few years of dance when I was about 10,” you said.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said and you weren’t sure what her tone was but it made your stomach sink.

She twirled you, and in that moment when you couldn’t see her face, you felt a sense of panic. The feeling that she was trying to hide something from you grew, only making you more desperate to see face, to gauge her emotion. But then she pulled you back in, hand on your hip, swaying to the music as she let her forehead fall to rest against yours. 

“May I cut in?” 

You blinked, turning to find Donovan by your side. He was holding a hand out to you, a cocky grin on his face. You opened your mouth to reply, only for Kate to wrap her arm around you, keeping you pressed against her.

“Elaine has run off with Helen and I find myself in need of company,” he said.

“And what will I do without her?” Kate asked.

“I’m sure you can spare her for one dance.” His eyes swept down your body and disgust curdled in your stomach. 

“Darling?”

You looked up into her face, finding something you hadn’t expected to find there. Annoyance and frustration and something you hadn’t seen in her eyes before. 

“Do you want to?” she asked.

“You know I’ll always prefer to be with you,” you replied, really not wanting that man to put his hands on any part of you.

“Correct answer,” she said.

“You have her well trained,” Donovan said, interrupting the moment.

“I’m not sure that’s what-” Kate began to say.

“But you can loan her out to me for one dance, can’t you?” he said, “after all, Elaine seems to have slipped away with Helen to whisper in the corner and I find myself all alone.”

“I’m afraid I still require her,” she said, “I really don’t want to let her go just yet.”

You slid your own arm around Kate’s waist, keeping as close to her as possible. Her chin dipped towards you and it was like Donovan stopped existing. She was the only one that existed and the way she was looking at you made heat spread through you. She was definitely better at this than you. Those heated looks and the possessive touches and the dancing. It was all making your head spin and you had to keep reminding yourself it was all pretend. 

“You never have to,” you whispered.

She drew closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped from you. Her eyes darkened as they darted down to your lips. You lent closer, not able to keep from practically begging her for a kiss. 

The first brush of lips was soft, stealing your breath. You pressed closer, kissing her more firmly, your hand coming up to curl around the back of her neck. The small noise she made as your tongue swept along her lower lip had warmth pooling in your lower stomach. Her arm tightened around you as you melted against her. 

The low wolf whistle interrupted you, thoughts rushing back into your brain after the emptiness her kiss brought. She pulled away from you, a stricken look on her face. Donovan was watching the two of you, looking as if he was enjoying the show more than the two of you had been, which was saying a lot given how you were feeling. She tugged out of your hold.

“I uh… I need a moment,” she said.

She turned on her heels and disappeared through the crowd. All you could do was watch her back as it got further from, disappearing through the doors of the ballroom. 

“It appears as if you’re free for a dance now,” Donovan.

“Not so much,” you said, hiking up the skirt of your dress to chase after Kate. 

Following her footsteps up the stairs, you chased her down the halls until you reached the door to your suite. Catching it before it could close, you slipped inside. Kate was pacing, hands shoved in her pockets, muttering under her breath.

“So,” you said, watching as she froze, “are we going to have to file paperwork with HR now?”

“I must apologise. We never discussed the boundaries of pretending to be in a relationship and I went too far. I would understand if you wanted to make a complaint with our HR department,” she said.

“What?” You’d already lost track of the conversation.

“I took the ruse too far and crossed your personal boundaries. I can only apologise and hope that you can forgive me,” she said.

“I don’t-” 

“If you felt pressured in any way,” she interrupted, “you have my sincere apologies. The thought that I have ruined our working relationship with this brings me great pain. Not that I want to guilt you into dropping the issue.”

You ignored her, striding over. Both hands cupped her cheeks and you pulled her in, kissing her again, muffling the words against your lips. Her hands hovered a moment before they settled on your hips, pulling you closer again. Your tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her, wanting more. She groaned, deep in her chest, muffled in your mouth.

Your back hit the wall, pinned between it and her body. Your fingers found their way into her hair, tangling in the soft blonde strands, tugging until she made a small noise in the back of her throat. You arched against her, begging her for more.

Her hands slid up your body, cupping breasts through the silk of your dress. You moaned her name as her lips began to trail down your neck. Your head fell back, giving her the access she wanted. Her tongue ran over your skin, making you gasp, gripping onto her hair tighter. When her teeth sunk in, a groaned curse fell from your lips, arching into her touch, fire coursing through your veins. 

“Fuck, darling,” she moaned against your neck, “what are we doing?”

“What we should have been doing months ago,” you replied.

“Months ago?”

She pulled back, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, watching how her eyes focused on it. Her thumb brushed against your hardening nipple, your hiss making her smirk down at you.

“Months?” she asked again.

“I might have had a bit of a crush,” you said.

“Around that trip to York to chase the ghost?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you said, focused on the way her thumb was making you feel. 

“That’s about the time you started being so distracted,” she hummed, thoughtful, tortuous in how slow she was touching you.

“I suppose so,” you said, breathless, watching her from under hooded eyes. 

“Now that does explain a lot,” she said before swooping in to kiss you again. 

Her name was muffled against her lips. Fingers scrabbled with the zip of your dress, tugging it down. Sure hands pulled the top of your dress down, dragging it over your arms, leaving you exposed. Her hands found their homes on your breasts again, skin against skin making your head spin. 

You moaned her name, your own fingers making short work of the buttons on her shirt, pushing it from her shoulders. Her mouth was finding a home on your neck as fingers pinched your hardened buds. Your hands were travelling over the skin of her back, warm and soft against your palms and you wanted more. She was murmuring something into your skin, her tongue tasting you. 

“Just to be clear,” you gasped as she rolled one of your nipples between thumb and forefinger, “we’re not pretending anymore, right?”

“Correct,” she said, lips brushing your skin, “this is very, very real.”

“Okay good,” you sighed, pressing closer to her. 

Her hands pushed your dress over your hips, letting it pool at your feet. You kicked it away before she swept you up into her arms. Your legs wrapped around her waist, your fingers tangling in her hair again as you tipped her head up. Leaning down, you kissed her deeply, your tongue in her mouth, tasting her. 

When she placed you down on the side of the bed, she knelt in front of you, looking up at you with smouldering eyes and smirking lips. Her fingers were slow as they unbuckled your heels, fingers brushing over your skin in a way that had you trembling. 

“You’re so beautiful, darling,” she murmured, “do you really want this?”

“God, yes, Kate. Fuck, if you don’t do this I’m going to be so angry,” you said.

“Well, I can’t have that,” she said.

Her lips skimmed over your calf, teasing you as she took her time to reach the apex of your thighs. Her mouth ghosted over your underwear covered core, humming when she realised you had soaked through them. Your fingers were tangled in her hair, pressing her closer as your legs spread further apart, trying to coax her closer. 

Her fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, slow to drag them down your legs. She paused a moment, her breath ghosting over your heat, making your hips arch off the bed, begging her closer. She chuckled, eyes finding yours. Your mouth opened, ready to admonish her, cut off when her tongue swiped through your folds. 

Your hips rose into her mouth as you fell back on the bed. The groan that fell from your lips felt filthy and her gratified answering groan had you tightening your fingers in her hair. She took her time, exploring you, tasting until you were breathless and begging her for more. She mostly ignored you, teasing you, dark eyes staring up your body as you clutched at your own breast, touching yourself until you were gasping for breath.

Her lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking, her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as she kept you spread out for her. Her name was a chant, a prayer, a moan as you urged her on. Fire was creeping through your veins, burning away the person you were before, leaving you a phoenix to rise from the ashes of your desire. Her tongue was insistent on you, making you gasp, hips rolling against her face as you chased your high. 

It was the vibration of her moan that had a wave of pleasure breaking over you. The cry of her name from your lips was loud to your own ears but it was hard to care when her mouth was still on you and your orgasm was still singing in your veins. 

You tugged on her hair, pulling her up your body, letting her press her lips to your skin along the way before you kissed her, tasting yourself on her tongue. Her hands were sure on your body, holding you tight as she kissed you, humming her approval as your legs curled around her waist.

“Why are you still dressed?” you mumbled against her lips.

“Because you’re not very effective at undressing me,” she replied.

“You distracted me,” you complained, pouting when she drew away from you.

“Hasn’t that been your problem for months now?” The corner of her lips pulled up and you knew she was teasing you but you still wrinkled your nose. 

“Fine, then I won’t undress you as I let you distract me again,” you said, “I won’t even listen to you and just agree with anything you say.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that,” she murmured, swooping in to kiss you again.

It wasn’t until the morning, wrapped up in her arms, warm body pressed along your spine that you allowed yourself to consider the actual purpose of your trip again. Soft lips trailed over your shoulder, the hands on your body holding you in place against Kate’s body. You hummed, slow to roll over and look at her in the morning light. The light was warm, lighting her up like she was glowing from the inside out. Curling an arm around her neck, you nuzzled against her.

“I could get used to this,” you said.

“If we weren’t here for work, I’d suggest we stay right here,” she said, “all day in bed, nothing to interrupt, just giving in to any impulse we might have.”

“But we have to find an alien that is abducting people,” you said on a sigh.

Her hand skimmed down your body before she sat up, the covers pooling around her waist. Your eyes trailed over her body, considering everything you’d do if you were able to stay in bed all day with her. A very naked Kate Stewart was certainly a nice view to have first thing in the morning. 

“Are you distracted again?” she asked.

“Can you blame me?” you asked, fingertips brushing along her spine.

“You’re insatiable,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Only for you,” you groaned when she pulled away.

“Come on,” she said, standing from the bed, “we have an investigation to finish.”

It was during your shower that it hit you. Not even bothering to grab a towel, you rushed back into the bedroom. Kate looked up from where she was bent over, putting on her shoe on the edge of the bed. 

“If this is your attempt at convincing me to stay in for the rest of the day,” she said, standing, tongue dragging over her lower lip as her eyes traced over your wet body, “it’s working.”

“It’s Helen,” you gasped, grabbing her forearms.

“I’m not following,” she said, the lascivious look dropping from her face. 

“Helen is the alien,” you said, “she took Elaine off during the ball last night. I saw them talking together. Donovan even told us she’d taken her away into a corner and couldn’t find her afterwards. And she kept trying to convince me to take a walk with her through the rose garden alone. I put her off by talking about you but she kept trying to get me alone.”

“What did you say about me? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you sure?” she asked.

“Positive,” you said, “it’s her.”

She pulled you in, a perfunctory kiss placed on your lips before she turned away, pulling out her mobile phone. You dried off, listening to her call in the rest of the team, explaining your theory to them. She turned, watching as you pulled on your clothes, the appreciative look obvious even from across the room. When she hung up, her eyes were dark and you were breathless. 

“You’re brilliant,” she said, cupping both your cheeks and pulling you in for another kiss. 

You laughed, muffled against her lips as your hands settled on her hips. It was warm and soft and so achingly good you never wanted it to stop. 

“We should be downstairs when the team arrives,” she said, pulling away just enough to speak.

“Fine, but if we’re getting the train back to London I want a private compartment with you,” you said, tangling your fingers through hers.

“You can have whatever you want,” she promised.

Your eyes swept over her body and she chuckled, warm and throaty and you knew she knew exactly what you were thinking. Her arm slipped around your waist, directing you towards the door. You rested your head on her shoulder, snuggling into her side. 

“We are definitely going to have to file paperwork with HR now,” she said.

“Fine, but you should know I’m going to be even more distracted now that I know for certain how good you are in bed,” you said.

“As you should be,” she chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again.

[writingwithcolor]

Dark features/people as blessed, white and light people as sick

ladyoftheseastuff asked:

I'm writing a fantasy story where the world is permanently covered in snow & ice. The people share a common culture & are loyal to their city states, but they are not homogeneous in appearance; there will be many, many characters coded as PoC. The main religion centers on the sun, & those with dark features are 'favoured' by the sun god, while pale people or anyone who has white/blonde hair are thought vulnerable to "snow sickness", a disease caused by environmental factors (1/2) & have other rules and customs to gain religious approval. It's dangerous & infectious but not well understood. It affects social standing and opportunities, but it's meant to be tied with ideas of youth, vitality, & fear of aging & sickness: it's not limited to those coded as white. This is a cultural detail and not part of the main conflict, but I want to avoid unintentional allegories/parallels & fetishization. Is this a concept that's too close to crossing any of those lines? (2/2)

This feels less like a means to show dark skinned people in an empowering light and more like a weak attempt at subversion. My primary concern (which you have not specified) is how do the "blessed" class treat the "sickly" so to speak. We have fantasy stories like The Grisha Trilogy and Girls of Paper and Fire, which deal with magical ability/feature-based segregation and conflict.

In both cases there is a sense of entitlement which comes with hailing from the "favoured" class, quite obvious, since there will always be an inherent othering metaphor whenever you create such a division, whether it was meant to be a source of conflict or not.

However, the two mentioned series use the "magical people are blessed, non magical people are to be pitied" arc which is somewhat more subtle than divisions created just on the basis of skin colour.

Disclaimer as I do not have albinism or vitiligo: The latter can be extremely harmful, and not just in a racial context, but in cases of albinism, vitiligo etc.

~Mod Mimi

The pitfalls of subversions

While it is always lovely to see dark features considered in a favorable way, there are some issues you may come across. Such a story could easily end up dressing those you wished to uphold as bad guys in the readers' eyes, even if the story's society and the sun god etc. thinks they're amazing, and white and light people as the victims of dark people, deserving reader sympathy. This may especially be the case based on how these groups get treated in the story.

These sort of subversions lean dangerously into "reverse discrimination" plots which are not overall accurate or favorable allegories for your real, human audience. There being diversity on both sides doesn't necessary fix this issue or remove racial or ethnic implications. On that note, and as Mimi mentioned, being demonized and ostracized particularly for skin and genetic disorders like albinism is already a thing. What does your concept say of them?

I think Dark/Black as good and Light/white as bad is a doable concept. Your concept differs a bit from simply subverting black/white tropes. This is not just Black good guys and night skies being peaceful or neutral. It's not just white/light villains (as opposed to victims) or snow symbolling death or sickness.

White and light people are quite blatantly being declared as sick and unfavored and they may very well be victims in the reader's eye with the dark people being the villainous, unsympathetic bunch. Is this your intention?

More to consider

Such a concept requires thoughtful, careful planning and intentional writing. You should have an understanding of what your story implies to the readers and the real-life takeaways.

I think it's possible to make dark skin the favored skin of the sun god without it meaning white/light people stand in a negative light and are sick or unworthy.

Consider what it is that you like about the concept of your story. Can you keep the essence of whatever it is that excites you about your ideas, without denying a whole group of people favor? If not, how will you go about telling such a tale that is not meant to symbolize a sort of reversal of roles discrimination?

Why does the sun god get to determine what is good?

Are there other gods that might have different strong opinions? Perhaps who is favored varies by time of day, season, region, culture, god?

Can dark skin get its favor without white and light features being deemed unfavorable as a whole?

How big of a deal does this favor have to be? I advise reconsidering it being the point of discrimination to white/light people for all the reasons already described.

No matter the directions you go, please research and get the appropriate beta-readers for feedback on the in-depth concepts and story.

~Mod Colette

[peggyao3]

Pt. 13 - (Pseudo) Pregnancy

A/N: The only trope yee aunt Peggy will never ever write is actual pregnancy… Meanwhile cannibalism, dune-typical incest, non-con, no problem, but pregnancy is just too close to irl body horror for me, but luckily I can make up anything in the world of fiction and beat the trope into a shape of my liking 😂😌 thank you @nocturn-warrior for the spark of inspiration to pick this prompt hehe 🤭

Can be seen as part of the Night Crawler universe, I think <3

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, breeding kink, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms without an actual child growing in there, FMC is thin enough to see a distension of the womb, squirting, dub-con

WORD COUNT: 450

"You're whining so much today," Feyd-Rautha groans, situated warm and hard between her spread thighs.

"Yes," she grates out through clenched teeth, pushing against her husband's round shoulders with no real fight aside from the nails that scrape over his velvety skin. "I'm too full and you damn well, a-ahhh, k-know it!" 

A hard jab of his cock has made a splash of wetness spatter against his hard abdomen and she burns up with shame, feeling the wet glide of skin against her already distended belly.

"Too full, sweetling?" Her insatiable husband grins black and wide, slowing his thrusts and canting his pelvis against the spot that causes her nerves to jitter and more essence to drip past the root of his cock. "I think there's room for a few more of my whelps in your warm, little womb."

Her channel spasms around his obscene girth upon that and he taunts her with laughter. His sweet wife is rotten and can't help the twitching of her needy cunt at the thought of being bred round and full by her virile husband.

All of this is just play. The na-Baron doesn't like the idea of sharing the attention of his treasured toy with a bawling, nagging, vomiting offspring. She can all but pray that it remains this way. Forced into marriage and this play of pretend, she won't allow him to force her into anything else, or their marriage will end in a bloodbath.

"Mmmh, just be still, my darling. Your husband knows what's best for you." Feyd-Rautha picks up speed, stuffing himself into her slick hole despite her indignant whines about the change of tempo. "If you don't wanna keep still, I might just strap you in next time, put you in a harness like a broodmare and stuff you so full that my seed drips down your legs."

His cock jumps against her snug walls and he lets his head fall forward, drool on his lips when he empties himself with stuttering hips, forehead pressing against his wife's. She shivers when his eyes snap open, dark and yearning beneath blonde lashes.

With every rush of seed into her body, the artificially injected cocktail of enzymes that lies dormant in her blood induces a rush of amniotic fluid into her womb. The pressure makes her groan and whine and that's also how she knows it's not real, because it happens too fast. 

Feyd reaches one hand between their bodies, the one with the wedding band, and pats her belly, whispering with gravelled breath how pretty she looks, swollen with his heir and how well she carries his Harkonnen brood.

The effect lasts only a couple of days— But Feyd-Rautha fucks his wife more often than that.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring

[afkenma]

sleep your peace — tsukisima.k

gn Reader X Tsukishima Kei

A/N: AAAHH this is my first time writing outside of school, so I thought I’d start with one of my favorite tropes. it’s pretty mushy and gross, but hopefully I’ll get better at this soon!! I also made the situation slightly unclear because I had no idea what specifics to add, my bad :)

tsukishima kei could only be an astute observer of how tired you were tonight; bleary eyes blinking slowly, hand motions translating into visual gibberish that wouldn’t help explain the confused, disheveled responses you gave to each new development in a crime show he’d been talking to you about. you had stayed up much longer than you should have the night before on homework you should’ve completed much earlier, and it drained all the energy you should have saved for this pre-mediated sleepover. you constantly took sips of energy drinks you didn’t like but bought anyways earlier today just to keep awake a little longer. this wasn’t a classroom, so why couldn’t you look away from the clock, doting on a comfortable time to suggest sleeping?

tsukishima knew he was talking to a wall, and even his words were out of focus. it was much easier to stare at your tired head resting on the bedframe than anything else, and it was so much easier to get lost in the small details he wouldn’t normally gaze at you long at you enough to notice: the skin on your face wasn’t uniform in colour, strands of your hair had fallen down to your face, and your lips were slighly chapped and pale, and it was all so beautiful. he noticed he’d been staring early into the night but gave up on trying to avoid your face, especially since the rest of the room had never looked so plain.

painfully embarrassed after replacing a character’s name with yours for the third time, he abruptly excuses himself to get water for the both of you, which you don’t mind. you’re left alone to quietly stare at all the different decorations on his walls, like the figurines of dinosaurs clustered together on a shelf, or the abundance of old movie posters and coloured food advertisements pasted onto the corner opposite. there are some bright sticky-notes with writing you just can’t see from the position your in right now, so you hazily shift around his bed to take a better look, but slowly curl up into a ball as the sweeter arms of sleep ultimately draw you closer and closer.

two glasses of water enter the room soon after, along with a sleepy, calm blonde who’s staring between his love softly snoring on his bed, and the silly post-it notes you’d given him with small hearts and doodles. he internally scoffed over how dumb he must’ve been to forget hiding it before inviting you over, but can’t ignore the overwhelming heat blooming on his cheeks. he stares back over at you. your back was arched inwardly and you were loosely hugging your knees towards you, and your face showed the slight discomfort and cold you were sleeping through. muttering out a breathy complaint, he takes you into his arms like a child. your body stayed limp, barely hugging onto his back as he straighten out his bedding with his free hand, and cautiously tucked you under warmer blankets.

you let out hearty exhales as you unconsciously snuggled deeper into bed, and tsukisima felt overbearing tides of raw fondness crash through him, a euphoric step deeper into his love. it took a couple moments to regain composure and sense of reality, and a nagging part of him cringed at being smitten for a sleeping beauty. he slowly dragged his eyes away from you to quickly stack up the items on his desk into a large pile on the side, before power-walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth before closing the door, turning of the light-switch and carefully seeping into the bed with you.

with his glasses off and barely adjusted to the darkness, he squints in a struggle to see your figure hunched over and facing the opposite direction, which was annoying him. if only he had positioned you facing towards him. that way, he might’ve been able to pine over you just a little longer, but alas. there’s always tomorrow morning, and the day that’ll ensue, and then the many days later because your his lover and he’s yours and all he can think about now is how calming your ambiance is. your presence is peaceful, and it forces even an arrogant jerk like him to lower his guard and feel it, so sleep your peace.

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: A friendly reminder: Don’t challenge your two large dog hybrid boyfriends Pairing: Alaskan Malamute!Ming x fem Netherlands Dwarf Rabbit!reader x Bernese Mountain Dog!Yunho Tropes: poly au, hybrid au, abo au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: abo dynamics, hybrids, polyamory Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, knots, predator-prey play, dirty talk, pet names, nipple play, spontaneous female orgasm Word Count: 1,154 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Note: part of the Mr. Wolf universe Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Paranoia by Kang Daniel

“It’s not like you guys could outrun me anyway.” You poke at your boyfriends, “I’m a bunny. Don’t they outrun dogs all the time?”

Mingi growls lowly, “Watch your tongue, cottontail.”

“Wanna test that theory, bun?” Yunho adds.

A shiver runs down your spine. Yunho’s eyes are dark as he stares at you. Something in the air has shifted. His typically smooth pine scent sharpens, and the undertones of dark chocolate become more present. Even though your eyes are fixated on Yunho, you can still smell Mingi. Your nose twitches as Yunho’s scent mingles with Mingi’s spruce and winter air scent. You glance at the hallway and debate your best course of action. Either you could stay here like a bunny trapped in the corner by big scary wolves, or you could find a hole, bolt down the hall, and make a game out of it. 

The second option seems far more appealing. You turn your small upright ears to the side, listening to where Mingi is on your left. He isn’t moving, but you know his eyes are fixed on you. Yunho is directly in front of you, and he’s not budging any time soon. The space just to your right is wide open. If you move at the right time, you could easily make it down the hall and into your bedroom. Yunho’s eyes shift to Mingi for a moment. That’s the opportunity you needed. You bolt. You make it about halfway down the hall before you find yourself thrown over Yunho’s shoulder. In hindsight, you should’ve known better. Both your mates are dog hybrids, hunting dog hybrids at that. Mingi walks up to where you and Yunho stand in the hallway. One moment, your eyes are on the ground, Yunho’s fluffy dark brown tail also in your field of view. The next, you see Mingi. His finger is under your chin, making you look at him. He’s bent over slightly so as not to strain your neck too much.

“You wanted to play chase so bad. Let’s see how well our pretty little prey can handle the consequences.” He hums, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Again, I can outlast both of you. We all know bunnies last far longer than any dog can in bed.”

Yunho tugs your tail, making you squeak, “Let’s see if you’re still saying that when you’re hanging off our knots.”

Mingi finally moves his hand from under your chin and steps around Yunho to walk ahead of both of you into the bedroom. His spruce scent follows him in a waft of air. It makes your head spin with need. Your own scent must’ve sweetened because Yunho’s fingertips dig into the flesh of your thigh before following the other dog hybrid into your bedroom. You don’t even get a moment to process what’s happening before Yunho is throwing you onto your bed and quite literally ripping your clothes off your body. Mingi pulls you into his lap, his fluffy white and grey ears poking up out of his blonde and red messy hair. Your bare pussy against his joggers feels like both heaven and hell at the same time. You immediately start to grind against him. A low growl from him stops your motions. Instantly, you bare your neck to him, ears pinned back against your head.

“That’s a good little bunny. Listen to your alpha.” He smirks.

“M-mingi, please?” You whine.

“Please, what?” He teases, teeth gently grazing against your mating gland.

You whimper at the feeling of his sharp canines against the sensitive skin, “Need you inside me so bad.”

Your fluffy tail wiggles a bit in anticipation. Just as you think Mingi is going to sink his teeth into you. Your other mate, who has been relatively quiet since ripping your clothing off, pulls you from his lap. You’re sitting back against Yunho’s bare body. You can feel his hard member pressed against your back just beside your tail. Yunho lifts your body as if you weigh nothing and guides you to sit down on his cock. A loud moan escapes your lips as he starts to move you to bounce on his cock.

“That’s a good little bunny. So good for your alphas, aren’t you?”

You nod, “Feels so good!”

Yunho chuckles against the shell of your ear, “And to think, you were talking so big about how a little prey hybrid like you could outrun and out fuck us. You’re leaking slick, bun. You’re such a fucking mess.”

“Yun– alpha! Fuck!” You moan loudly.

Mingi stalks closer to you and smirks, his sharp, pearly white canines on display as he does so. He drops his head in front of your chest before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You squirm and whimper at the feeling of Yunho fucking you, combined with Mingi’s tongue swirling around the hard bud. His hand moves to stimulate your other nipple. You can’t help but bury your hands in his messy, dual-colored hair. The moment you do, he uses his free hand to grasp your wrist in one hand. You’re rendered completely helpless. Yunho’s knot starting to bump against your leaking entrance makes your mind completely blank. 

“You gonna cum on Yunho’s cock, cottontail?” Mingi teases, his sharp teeth teasingly nipping at your nipple.

“Feels so–” You cut yourself off in a broken moan.

“So what, bun? You already that fucked out that you can’t explain yourself?” Yunho teases further.

You can’t hold back your orgasm anymore. Your body shakes, and your pussy convulses. As you ride out your high, Yunho pushes his knot into you. The feeling of him finally popping it in sends you into a second, much more unexpected orgasm. You feel tears start to roll down your cheeks at the intense feeling. Mingi’s teeth still tease your nipples as you come down from your high. Although Mingi didn’t get to knot you at the same time as Yunho, the cum on both his thighs and yours is evidence enough that he came at some point during your back-to-back orgasms. Mingi finally moves away from your sensitive chest and places kisses against your mating gland. You positively melt at the feeling. A moment later, Mingi’s lips are gone from your neck, and although you can’t see it, you can still hear him kissing. He kisses Yunho’s mating gland as well, and the other alpha growls at him half playfully. The sound of the growl has you whimpering and grinding against his knot.

“You’re fucking insatiable, bun. Is our pretty little prey hybrid desperate still?” Yunho tsks.

“Please?”

“Maybe I should give attention to that cute little clit of yours while you’re stuck on Yunho’s knot.” Mingi suggests a condescending hint to his tone.

You clench around Yunho’s cock.

“I think our little cottontail likes that idea.”

“I really really do.” You admit.

Mingi smirks, “I best get to work then.”

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[jadeddangel]

Hellooo may I request Husk with a reader whose appearance in Hell is that of a cute little mouse? She is shy and the kind of person to put things as nicely as posible, so she finds it hard to stand up for herself. Basically the "opposites attract" trope, if you are so kind! Thank youuu <3

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! AHHHH I SIMP FOR HUSK SO BAD

Warnings: talk of gambling, alcoholism, addiction , Trauma and suggestive themes

If you aren't over the age of 18 or of legal age please don't interact, having said that, Enjoy!!

A game of cat and mouse

The sky was dark red and black when you woke up.. there weren't any clouds, and aside from a red hue everywhere, the only thing that stood out was a giant clock in the middle of well wherever you were. Standing up, you brushed yourself off with your paws, wait... paws? You froze looking down at your hands, I mean, they looked normal-ish. I mean, you still had skin, but it was Grey and had fur running down the back of your hands, arms, legs, and shoulders. You had black claws, and you were staring to get overstimulated at all the sounds going on.. you went to put your hands over where your ears were when you were alive and let out a scream of sheer panic. You were scared there were so many things going on, and now you were missing ears?! You paused after a moment, realizing that it was ridiculous. How did you not have ears and be able to hear? And so you finally took a deep breath and went into an alley way as you were pretty much feeling yourself up.

You felt all over your body coming into contact with the large ears on your head and the long fuzzy tail you had. "OK, it's ok. Deep breathes. We'll figure this out it's not a big deal, right? I mean, this is probably just a dumb dumb dream .." You spoke to yourself

You lied. It had been 2 months since you got here now, and no matter what you've done to try and "wake up," nothing was working. And that's why you were standing here in front of the not so popular hazbin hotel. The outside of the large building looked mediocre, at best, and you were being modest. Taking a deep breath of the polluted air you knocked on the front door carefully, the echo of the loud knock spooking you nearly out of your fur. You could hear running towards the door before a brief pause and a blonde demon opened the door. "Hello there, little demon!! Welcome to the hazbin Hotel! Please come in come in!" Charlie greeted as she maneuvered around you, putting a hand on your back and leading you inside the doors closing behind you. You frantically tried to adapt to the new surroundings the princess of hell had forced you into. What you immediately spotted was a couch, a large stair case, a few people, and a bar? I mean, you had heard this was a place for rehab pretty much, not just a standard hotel. Charlie nudged you towards the couch. "Let me introduce you to everyone!! Ok, so we have angel dust, " charlie blabbered out as Angel looked up from his phone and gave you a brief head nod "alastor, our facilities manager, vaggie, my girlfriend and our general manager!! Oh, oh ! And here we have Kiki, razzle and dazzle, they work to protect the hotel!! That's nifty!" Charlie pointed to everyone excitedly, most of them barely even looking at you before the girl she addressed as nifty ran at you with a giant needle." Rat! There's a rat in the hotel!!" Nifty yelled. With a shriek, you jumped onto the coffee table. "I'm not a rat. I'm not a rat!!" You were nearly crying. You were embarrassed about everything feeling like a big deal, and then on top of the panic of being in a new place, it felt like your head was bursting. You had closed your eyes, and the next thing you knew, there was someone picking you up off the table after they had noticed you panic. It was angel dust.. he was holding you high above nifty's reach though he didn't need to cause you saw this.. cat person? Holding nifty up by the collar of her dress.. he seemed tired.. and grouchy . Angel finally set you down "sorry 'bout that cutie, nifty can be a bit much at first," angel said, crouching a bit so he was face to face with you instead of face to tits . You nodded a bit. "Thank you, angel dust," you said quietly, "it's alright, cutie, it's no problem to me, my friends call me Angie btw," Angel said sweetly

And just like that, your stay at the hazbin Hotel began. It was starting to calm down after a few months. You had grown close with angel, the two of you often hanging out at the bar. The cat's name that you had learned was husker, but he preferred husk. Then it all started, late night drinks and talks with husk though you did most of the talking or it wad just quiet. You both talked about so many things, what foods you liked, what drinks you preferred. And even though you were opposites, you were both crazy attached to each other.

You and Angel were having some small talk at the bar just laughing with each other. "And then! Hahaha ha and then Val has the guts to ask me to redo the scene!!" Angel laughed out. You both had been talking about funny stories and about things when you were alive . Angel finished off his drink before winking at husk. "Oh husker~, you wanna do me a favor and poor me another drink kitty?~" Angel asked with a smirk. You could hear husk grumble under his breath about something. Husk then turned to you. "Want another soda? I know you're not much of a drinker, so I asked Charlie to get us some, " husk said, leaning against the bar counter slightly. You gave him a happy nod before handing him your cup, soon husk left, and Angel smirked at you .oooooo you and Kitty got somethin' goin' on, don't ya' ?" Angel teased poking your shoulder a bit. Your cheeks turned a darker Grey at his words "w-what?.. me and husk what? No way psht- that's ridiculous. Why do you think he likes me?" You were embarrassed, but God, you were curious. Did Angel know something you didn't. "Mm, I'll tell you if you tell me what made you die , deal?" Angel held his hand out a bit.. you took a moment questioning if it was worth it before shaking his hand. "Deal.."

You took a deep breath "Alright uhm it was my boyfriend's fault.. you see, I had this really bad habit of falling for people that really didn't care about me.. they just wanted a body or something they thought they could gain.." You spoke quietly before clearing your throat."I was beaten to death.. I thought I was just going to sleep, but uhm, he had caused internal bleeding and..." You zoned out a bit."That's why I'm a mouse.. I'm just viewed as prey and a good pet for some person that thinks their god. " You ranted a bit

Angel looked guilty about making the deal, having heard that.. "Oh, cutie.. I'm sorry.. uhm, I don't know if husk likes you, deary, " Angel said softly while rubbing your back . You sighed a nodded a bit; husk returned back to the main bar and handed you your glass full of soda gently careful not to spill any before carelessly handing angel his drink ,husk put his hand over yours when you went to grab your drink " are you alright mouse? You don't seem well.. cmon, let's take you to your room.." husk said softly as he walked around the bar and helped you off the high chair before grabbing your drink and helping you walk up to your room. Husk sat you down on your bed, trying to get you to relax a bit. He rubbed over your shoulders, trying his best to soothe you from your emotional anguish that was written on your face. "It's gonna be ok, just relax," husk said quietly while rubbing your shoulders. Husk looked down at you, worried. "I heard what you and Angel were talking about.. I'm so sorry you had to go through that" husk was rubbing along the edges of your ears to help calm you, "Now uhm I now I suck at stuff like this but it looks like you need one " husk said opening his arms a bit. You pulled husk close and cuddled into him, relaxing at the smell of sandalwood and rum. Husk wrapped you up his wings, holding you close. "Thank you, husk.. " you said softly, husk smiled ever so slightly as he rubbed your arms and back carefully "yknow I heard everything even about a certain crush you have. " Husk chuckled a bit. You blushed a bit and went to pull away from the hug, but husk kept you close to his chest "let me finish.. I really like you too little mouse and I'd really like to stay with you for as long as I can.." husk finished finally letting go a bit so that you could pull away if you so pleased. But you could never.. husk made you feel safe made you feel whole.. and nothing could change that.. You had a big smile on your face as you pulled him closer "I really like you too husk.." you muttered. Husk smiled a bit more "so how about we just stay here for a bit and just hang out mk?and if I may be so bold I'd like to ask you to be my girlfriend " husk rubbed your back in soothing circles. You squeaked happily (blame the mouse part) as you nodded like crazy.

Everything is perfect

[dejwritesarchived]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀rekindled, john price

divorce can either turn dark or be a smooth ride down lala land. john and you've been divorced for a while now, but it's not really much of a secret that he just can't stay away from you. especially when he has returned from being whisked away with task force 141.

♔ ˖ ✧ — general warnings: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, black reader written in mind, ex husband!john, established past relationship, john and reader have a set of twins, reader gossiping with her friends, italics means a flashback, profanity usage, slight second chance lovers trope // smut warnings: oral (f.receiving), standing position, dirty talk, possessive!john prince, some love bombs are dropped, breeding kink, description of making out // word count: 4.4k, // ao3 // minors dni.

YOU AND YOUR EX-HUSBAND DIDN’T REALLY LEAVE ON A BAD NOTE. But You didn’t leave on a good note either. Your marriage just slowly became dull. Of course, you still had your beautiful twin boys that seemed to steal that charming smile John had. However, you were fully aware that attempting to stay together for the sake of the kids—did more harm than good. The divorce was finalized and the two of you were okay with co-parenting, actually, you’ve been doing it for over a year now. It’s been working well considering what John did for a living, so the majority of the time the boys were with you. When he came back home, they stayed with him. 

It was okay. You were okay being newly divorced, having a nice paying job that you enjoyed, your two sons striving in academics and extracurricular activities, and you even oddly joined a book club also. The book club was filled with different types of women. From the women married to rich bachelors to the freshly divorced who snuggled up with their pool boys after the children slept. They were quite an odd crowd to hang around, but you were genuinely happy. Although you couldn’t relate to your husband buying you a brand new Mercedes or having a sultry affair with your child’s teacher, this group of women knew how to have fun when they wanted to.

Maybe that’s how you whine up at the town’s local bar with them. After realizing how hot and steamy the chapters of this month’s book club book were, you and the ladies decided to go into town for a drink or two. It’s the least you guys could do after a long week of student-teacher conferences and football tournaments. 

“Do you ever miss him?” Blonde-haired Cheryl asked as she down a shot of tequila. Her face scrunched up as she picked up the lime slice to suck on. “You know? John?” She adds to ensure that her question was meant for you.

“What is there to miss? We divorced and went our separate ways. Our boys are happy, and that’s all we care about.” You answered truthfully.

“And what if she told you he just walked in right now as we’re speaking.” Thirty-two-year-old Sheila asked. Her brown skin glistened under the bar light as she leaned back into the booth seat. She twirled her finger around a coil on top of her head before letting out a drunken dreamy sigh. 

“He isn’t coming back to town until next week.” You answered. The two women stared at you as if you’d grown another arm out of your body. You were sure it was because they drank too much, but Sheila had pointed at the figure that stopped to greet the very popular bartender that had seen everyone who stepped foot in here at their lowest. 

You followed where she was pointing, and your breath hitched in your throat. There John was chatting with the bartender—completely making up for the lost time of him not being around. Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip as you quickly turned around before he could fully notice you. You watched as Cheryl placed her head in her hand with a cheeky grin on her face. 

“What?” You asked as you leaned forward to capture the straw in your alcoholic beverage. “It’s not a big deal; he could be here to meet someone. You know, we’ve divorced you guys. He’s allowed to date.” 

“Mhm, okay.” Sheila laughs. “Why are you suddenly so fidgety? You can’t even sit straight now.” 

Now it was Cheryl piecing the pieces together. She’s been with you from the start of the divorce and even asked her husband to be your lawyer. She and Sheila knew you so well. Yes, she knew that you haven’t gotten laid since the divorce, claiming so many times that it’s messy to introduce a man in your life so soon. Despite you and John being divorced for a while now. But Cheryl was calling bullshit. She then covered her mouth in complete shock as the alcohol gave her a boost of realization. “You didn’t!?” She shrieks loudly, and that causes some people to glance in the table’s direction.

“Did what?” Sheila asked as she looked at her before popping another peanut in her mouth. 

“You gave him some, didn’t you?” Cheryl asked. She collected the untouched tequila shot meant for you and downed it with ease. “You gave John some before he left and didn’t even tell us. Here I’m thinking you were practicing abstinence?” Her manicured fingers pointed at you like you were on trial for the Salem Witch Trials. 

“What? That’s nonsense,” Now you were taking huge gulps of your drink. Even took the skinny black straw from the drink and down it until it was burning your insides. 

“She did. She sees him and suddenly can’t sit straight. Don’t even want to see him. So, she must have enjoyed it.” Sheila laughed. “Spill the details now, or I’m throwing this peanut at your forehead.” 

You couldn’t even lie your way out of this. What they were saying was true. Before John had to leave, right after dropping your sons back off to you—one thing led to another, and you found yourself gasping out his name and seeing stars in the moment's bliss. You hated to admit that was what you had thought about since he left. When your eyes closed to go to sleep, you visualized that moment of him being in between your thighs that night. Your cheeks even heated in embarrassment as you sat here trying to deny it happened. Having sex with your ex-husband was messy, especially when you have been telling your friends that you've been going out on dates and attempting the dating pool again. 

“He dropped the boys off, and it just happened, okay?” You threw your hands up in defeat. “One thing led to another, clothes being torn off—you guys know the deal.” 

“But did you feel anything, or was it just sex?” Cheryl asked.

“Like, did he fuck you with meaning or like a one-night stand?” Sheila asked.

“Sheila!” Cheryl shrieked as she playfully smacked her arm. 

“What, Cheryl? I think this is an important question to ask, considering the circumstances. If he fucked her like a one-night stand, he just wanted a last little taste so he could go on about his life. But if he fucked her with some meaning, maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to let go just yet.” Cheryl had taken a sip of her vodka tonic and gave you a grin. “So which one was it, Y/N?” 

Which one was it? You couldn’t even remember. You sat twiddling with your thumbs as the memories of that night came swirling around your brain for you to remember.

“They’ve been playing all damn day, so I figure that would be ready for bed when they get here,” John commented as he tucked one of the children in.

You only hummed at his response as you leaned down to tuck your other son in. It was good that they were going to bed at a reasonable time since they had school the following morning. You just were grateful that John was being a responsible parent and returning them at a good time that worked for both of you. As you two left the twins' room, you felt like this feeling was a little too familiar. The tucked the boys in, the each giving them a kiss goodnight and then sneaking out of the room not to wake them. It felt strange now, knowing with the divorce finalized—the two of you didn’t go to the shared bedroom together. Instead, John would share his farewell and just leave. 

You were still getting used to your home's subtle silence now that John wasn’t here. You knew that if he were still here around this time—you would hear the laughter of your three favorite boys playing video games or watching television. But now it wasn’t like that. You no longer heard John’s loud laughter that echoed through the halls, no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. It was just silence. 

“I’m going away for a couple of weeks, possibly a month max.” John breaks your thoughts as he stops you from going further down the hall. He noticed the grasp he had on your hand and quickly dropped it. 

You were used to talks like this. Once again, it was different with you two being divorced this time. Your lips form a straight line as you realize that you’ll have to give your sons the talk. “Did you tell the boys?” You asked.

“Of course, they took the news quite well. Shockingly,” John chuckles as he rubs at his facial hair before sighing. “I just wanted to let you know also.” 

“They’re not our little babies anymore; they’re getting so big.” You admitted. “But I appreciate you telling me,” You added. 

He gives you a grin of satisfaction before he shares his farewells to find his way out. However, now it was you stopping him from departing. “Just return back to us—I mean them, in one piece.” You gave him a genuine smile that you knew he had to return. 

“And if I don’t?” John turns to take a step forward, once again closing the gap between you two as you stand in the hallway. 

“I’m going to come to save you myself if I have to. I am not going through these boys' teenage years alone, you smug asshole.” You said as you were trying to bite back a grin. 

John glances at you with a twinkle in his eyes. His heart pinged at the sight of that grin. Some days he found himself questioning what went wrong without realizing that nothing can go wrong in a relationship. However, people can outgrow each other. They can just realize that it wasn’t working out anymore, and John was trying so hard to attach that statement to the two of you. He just couldn’t. The captain couldn’t let you go. He was quite upset that he let you go—that he sat and let the divorce happen. 

“So please, John Price, return in one piece quickly.” You repeated. You noticed his eyes glancing at your lips and soon staring back at you. He did that when he wanted to kiss you. You’ve known him for years to tell that.

“And if you want one last kiss, just get it over with, John.” You threw your hands up in defeat, knowing that this would only complicate and confuse things. But then again, this could be the last time you see him. 

With that, he’s kissing you. He’s kissing you so hard that you forget to breathe for a second. Your fingers grasped at his shirt to get him closer. Your back was pushed against the wall as John deepened the kiss. His tongue glides across your lower lip, aching to taste you. His guess was you were drinking wine before he dropped the kids off because, on Sunday nights, you spent it drinking wine and indulging in a bubble bath. Of course, he remembered that. He knew you more than he fuckin’ knew himself. 

Your lips parted without a fight or fuss just to let John in. His tongue slithers in your mouth, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling. John’s kisses always took you to another universe. They were so intense that they made your knees go weak. They made you sit and think about them. They had you wanting more. Maybe this kiss and the fact that you haven’t been laid since the divorce had you eager for more. His lips disconnect from your lips to kiss your jawline and then to your neck. His facial hair tickles you, and you bite back a childish giggle as you notice how fast he moves. His hands lingered in the pastel pink silk robe that seemed to loosen each second. 

“Fuck, I missed this,” John whispered before he planted a kiss on your swollen lips again. 

“We’re going to wake the boys. We should go into the room,” You said between the subtle breaks of the kiss. “They’ll question why you’re still here, you know?” 

“We’ll figure that out when we get there.” He leads you to the master bedroom that once was shared by you two. The scent of John still lingers around even though you even redecorated the room to your liking.

Your back pushes against the room door to close it shut as your eyes watch John tugging the shirt he wore over his head. Your teeth got caught in your lip as you took him in. From his broad shoulders to the battle scars. The sight of him had your panties wet and forced you to clutch your thighs shut. He took two steps to be closer to you again, his eyes taking in your features. From your coils that fell in your face due to your wash-n-go style to those eyes that put him in a trance every time he looked at you. His hands travel down to untie the knot of the silk robe.

Your skin is now garnished with goosebumps as soon as the crisp air in your room hits your skin. Your nipples had already hardened from just the sight of John, so they immediately poked through the silk fabric. John’s mouth watered at the sight of you. He always thought you were the most beautiful woman he had seen. His tongue wets his lips before he gets on his knees without a word to help you step out of your panties. He’s prompting one of your legs over his shoulder without a care, and without warning, he’s indulging in your taste. The flat of his tongue gliding across your wet folds. John missed this. He missed being between your plush legs, hearing you whimpering his name and clawing your fingers through his hair.

His tongue flickers at your clit, which got you talking. Your hand went up to muffle your moans, but as soon as you felt John’s tongue trace the outline of your entrance—you had lost any grace to keep your voice down. Your knees buckled slightly at the feeling of him in between your thighs. John ignored your pleas and cried about how good he made you feel. The only thing on his mind was the thought of tasting you. Making you come so good that when he left—he was the only thing on your mind. Was that selfish of John? Probably so, but he didn’t give a damn. 

Teasingly he placed a kiss on your thigh before going back in. His nose nuzzled at your pubes as he took his index and middle finger to insert inside of you without warning. He let his tongue flicker at your sensitive bud as he thrusts his fingers inward. Your juices dripped down his slender digits as he fingered you. His eyes make eye contact with you as he’s curving his finger just to hit that spot that causes you to yell out his name. 

“John baby, please. I’m about to-“ Your words stopped abruptly when you felt him remove himself from you. Your orgasm blew away as quickly as ever as John stood up off his knees. He’s staring at you with so much lust in his eyes���it was the same look he gave you the night the twins were conceived. 

His bulge was noticeable in his pants; you took it upon yourself to tug him closer in a heated kiss. The taste of you now encrypts your tongue while you undo the button on his pants. You let your hand rub at his bulge, causing him to groan in the kiss. As you were helping him out his bottoms, his callous hands fully tugged the silk robe off. The robe decorated the brown wooden floors alongside John’s clothes, and with each passing minute, you became whole again. 

He lifts you up easily, and a chill goes down your spine at the feeling of his cock brushing against your entrance. You were expecting him to carry you to the bed. You wouldn’t have minded him taking you in a missionary position where you could feel extra stroke; he put his all in. Or doggy style, where you could muffle out his name in the fluffy pillow. But instead, he’s using the door to lean your back upon, and with one hand holding you up—he using his other to help guide you upon his cock. Your arms snake around his neck in a strong grasp from the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out and the fear of him dropping you. You two had never done a position so vulgar, so this came as a shock to you. But the only thing you could do is indulge in the glorious feeling of John. 

It was such an amazing feeling. It felt like John was the only thing you could stutter out. How his hands guided you up and down his cock had your eyes lolling in the back of your head. Your teeth nibbled on your lower lip to muffle your moans because you didn’t want to wake the boys. With each thrust upward, you felt your juices dripping down your thighs. When you made eye contact with John, you didn’t think you could get any wetter than you already were. He looked so wonderful like this. Balls deep inside you, uttering how well you’re taking him and how beautiful you look. Were you falling back in love with him, or was that just the way he was fucking you that had your brain all mushy inside. 

“You haven’t been giving this pussy to anyone else, have you?” John questioned through his rhythmic thrusting. 

You couldn’t muster up an answer until he fully tugged himself from thrusting upward inside of you and slamming himself back into your wet pussy once again. This time repeat the question so you can answer him loud and clear. 

“No, I’m all yours, John.” You whimpered out with tears of pleasuring, staining your lash line. 

You leaned in to kiss him deeply, your fingers combing through his hair, just wanting to feel closer to him. Although your bodies were already swapping sweat and intertwined closer than ever, it just felt right at the moment, wanting to be closer to John. His thrusting became quicker, and you knew he was most likely about to cum. You could always tell when he was about to come.

Cause when John came, he came a lot. Big heavy loads of his cum just oozed out when he came. He had a thing where he would always come inside you unless you told him not to. But it didn’t shock you; he told you before you two got engaged that he wanted kids. You always joke that it was why you were graced with twins instead of one child. 

His face would get as red as a tomato, and the only thing you could hear him say as he cast soft kisses upon your neck and collarbone was your name. 

“Y/N..Y/N..I love you, Y/N.”

When the two of you were being tugged down by the intense feeling of your orgasms, you quickly went to tug on your rob. Your skin felt hot, sticky, and you smelt like him. You were shuffling in embarrassment as you collected John’s clothes off the floor and shoved them in his hands. You couldn’t even progress the fact that he uttered those words to you. 

“You must get out of here before the boys see you.” You were avoiding looking at him because you knew you would want more. You knew you couldn’t say those words because it would further confuse you. 

You were expecting him to argue against your words, but John collected his clothes and started to put them on. The two of you were silent as you sat on the bed, attempting to collect your thoughts. You had just slept with your ex-husband and enjoyed it. Actually, you were eager for me. 

And the last thing John said to you before leaving the bedroom you once shared was to give the boys one last kiss for me. 

You leaned back into your seat, watching as your two friends were a giggling mess.

“I can’t believe you kicked him out afterward. You could at least let him sleep in the guests' room.” Cheryl said. 

“Hell, he had his head in between her thighs. Might as well sleep in the master bedroom.” Sheila adds.

 Sheila would finish her drink and check her phone, “Oh shit, the wife has come to pick us tipsy stranglers up.” She says as she looks at you. “I mean, you can always ask John for a ride. Considering you already…you know.” 

Cheryl snickers as she tugs her jacket on and collects her belongings. “Sheila, we have to be serious. He can’t know what we know. Now I’m heading to the ladies' room before we leave; you coming?” 

“Oh yeah,” Sheila says.

“I’ll meet you two outside.” You slipped on your jacket and moved by the crowd in the bar to exit. Purposely avoiding the direction that John was near. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. You just knew seeing him would mean you’ll bombard yourself with feelings that you've been thinking about since he left. You’ll be forced to think about how maybe letting him was a huge mistake. 

As soon as you stepped outside, you called the babysitter for your sons to let them know that you were on your way home. Your back leaned against the brick wall waiting for Sheila and Cheryl—of course, they would take forever in the bathroom when you needed to run away from someone. You tugged your jacket further on your body once you felt the crisp nightly breeze brush by you. Suddenly, you could feel someone standing next to you. And you knew it was him. 

For one.) he probably saw you leave in such a hurry you would think you left your oven on at your house or two.) Cheryl and Sheila didn’t actually go to the bathroom. They most likely drunkenly approached him and said that you were waiting for him. 

“We need to talk.” It seemed you two said at the same time. 

Now you were facing him, the sound of the bar door was pushed open, and your two friends bubbly stumbled out, arms linked with each other as they walked towards Sheila's wife's car. 

“Bye, John,” Cheryl drags out his name with a childish grin, not hiding that she knew you two slept together. “Y/N? Are you coming? They can drop you off also.” 

“She’s in good hands, Cheryl. I’ll make sure she gets off safely.” John gives her a half grin, and you look at your friends, trying to telepathically tell them not to leave you alone with him.

But Sheila only winked at you before wishing her farewells to you and John and dragging a tipsy Cheryl away. Now the two of you were alone. Just you, him, and your thoughts about that night before he left.

“We should get going. The babysitter is waiting for us—I mean me.” You said, and with that, you followed John to his car. 

Too many memories hit you all at once when you were in the passenger seat. The scent of John, obviously. The one crayon marking from one of the twins was on the dashboard. The driver's side that you occasionally would glance at John and watch him drive. He’ll always catch you staring before you look away in embarrassment. Gosh, you couldn’t forget the times that seat was reclined back, and you climbed on top of him like a hormonal sex-deprived woman. But you shouldn’t be thinking about this at the moment. You wanted to have a clear conversation with him without anything sexual getting involved. 

“Is this the part where we awkwardly talk about what happened?” John questioned. His eyes stared ahead on the road, and you just felt so little in his car.

Facing your feelings head-on as soon as that question comes out. Your fingers toyed with the bracelets that decorated your wrist before speaking, “We had sex. What more is there to say?”

You could hear your ex-husband tapping at the steering wheel. He clicks his tongue before speaking, “That’s what it was? Doesn’t seem like it, but okay.” He makes a turn, and you take note that he was purposely taking the long way back to the home you two once shared.

“Okay?” You asked. “Is that why you’re taking a long way home? Come on, John. We’ve taken this route before when we want-” You stopped midsentence realizing what you would say.

It was the same way he would take where he would pull over after a romantic date, and the two of you would engage in a heated quickie. He would take the same route if you two needed to argue a little longer to prevent your sons from hearing it when you were home. The last time you took this route, your lips parted to utter the word divorce; the rest was history. 

“Because we need to talk. You know more than I know that what happened was more than just sex.”

You grew silent, slowly slumping in your seat. “But what’s next if I say I felt more?” You asked. Your arms cross over your chest, sighing. “We can’t just get together.”

“Why not?” John stops at the red light, forcing you to meet his gaze.

Oh, that gaze. He knew what he was doing. He knew that right now, the way his eyes drank in your looks as if you were the finest bottle of whiskey made your heart flutter in your chest. You looked away, not having an answer to his question because there weren’t any. Deep down, you wanted to give you and John another try. 

It was only right that you rekindled the old flame that blew out.

After a minute of silence and the low hum of whatever generic pop song was playing on the radio, you asked. “So, how does this work?” 

“I guess we take it one step at a time.” He gives you a reassuring smile that you return.

“One step at a time.” You repeated before finally relaxing in your seat.

One step at a time at rekindling your marriage.

​━━ ♡ TAGS // @takemichiluvr @astennu @maydayaisha @introvered-violinist @diorlov3er @xintothewoodswegox @erieniee @photosbyameil @monstas1ut2 @princessd4isyjr @indiecursor @pranksterfan13 @mommiej @sweetsummerpie @caramelanins @alinvert @blackwolfqueenzz @attemptedgull @arctic-writes @h0rror-wh0re @yoshimurah @honeyhoneyyyyyy @hellshedevil @shamelesshoefairy @koresflora

[readychilledwine]

What Dreams May Come

Part One - Asher

Summary - 50 years after sending his pregnant mate and children into hiding, Tamlin wants nothing more than to reconnect with his family.

Warnings - Rhys Slander is HEAVY in this series, references to smut, references to abuse, death, schmurder, fated mates and hidden family trope, kind of angst, tension, if you see an error, no you didn't 👀

A/N - I was going to wait to post this mini series, but I can't. I've been rereading it over and over and judging it harshly (as I do all my writing), so I'm putting it out there before I abandon it. Ps- each child has their own powers. You will learn each child in depth during Araceli's chapter. These are just little previews. Bonus points if you can figure out what Asher’s might be.

🥀What Dreams May Come Masterlist🥀Tamlin Masterlist🥀Master Masterlist🥀

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears (seriously peep the blog. Adorable season court Dividers)

Asher was thoroughly unimpressed with the horned beast staring him down as he flirted with the twin river nymphs he had been chasing for a few days now. Feral eyes were locked on his chocolate brown ones before the body of the beast because to slowly approaching. Asher sighed as the nymphs dove back into the water of the river, whispered melodically in their native tongue. “And what manner of beast are you,” He motioned up and down. “I believe parents should write stories about you. Ugly thing, you are.” 

He froze as the beast shifted, long blonde hair and sun kissed skin replacing the fur. Strong arms went across a wide chest, “Be careful with your words, son. You look just like me.” 

Asher, in fact, did not look like Tamlin. Tamlin screamed of sun, golden blonde hair and green eyes, Asher sang for the moon, dark short hair styled to one side, deep chocolate eyes he must have gotten from his mother's side, tanned skin. It was in their facial structure, the sharp jawline, the nose. That is where the signs of Tamlin rested in his son.

He had grown into a tall male, strong from what Tamlin could tell, but definitely with the same soft heart he had. Tamlin could see it in those eyes. Eyes that currently swan with confusion. The Lord of Sping simply opened his arms smiling as his first son dropped the act and came to him. 

“Dad,” the word was foreign on Asher’s tongue. They had been in hiding for so very long, not even mentioning the word out of fear. Asher had not been held by his father since he was 4, but it felt like he remembered. 

Hugging Tamlin, hugging his dad, it reminded him of the first warm rain in a season. Of getting a blanket warmed near the fire on cold nights from his mother. Asher melted into it, savored it as he took in the vaguely familiar scent of petrichor and freshly trimmed grass.

“I missed you,” Tamlin's deep voice made his eyes close as he rested his head on his shoulder. “Tell me everything. Tell me every happy moment, every ache, tell me you hate me. Anything, Asher. Anything.”

His mother was not home when Asher brought him back to the cave she had turned into a true home. The rumors that she could move mountains were, possibly, not rumors in her son's eyes, because, behind the waterfall the cave was hidden by, she had created a home. Everything he and his siblings had needed was magically summoned and made by his mother. They never wanted anything during the 50 years they had been isolated. 

Asher knew now his mom's magic ensured they had beds, blankets, comfort, through technically stealing. To be conjured, it had to come from somewhere. He had written a poem once about being a shopkeeper in the Night Court and coming into an emptied out shop, but Asher would put money on his mother somehow leaving a note to bill the High Lord of Night. 

Asher had also written a poem about his Uncle finding said bill. His mother told him it was inappropriate while smiling and folding it into her back pocket. 

He and Tamlin stayed quiet as he let the blonde male look around, “They say you can take the female out of the Night Court, but never the Night Court out of the female.”

Asher scoffed at that, “I believe she picked our furniture and goods on where she wanted to take from. Can't feel bad stealing from a rich asshole,” he quoted her exact words. 

Tamlin gave him a look, his lips clearly trying to remain in a stern position. “Your uncle is a-”

“Pompous asshole who feels that he is the change the world needs by just existing and not acting,” Asher was raising a dark brow at him as he poured them some tea. “Mom told me.”

“Asher,” Tamlin continued to try to be firm, “We do not speak of family that way.”

Asher blinked at him, unphased. This child, his oldest son, his mind was unwavering. Not even the Gods themselves could convince them of his Uncle Rhysand's good had they tried. It was his mom's fault, she was blunt and cut throat with her honesty, even when she knew lying would have been best.

Asher had found the history. He'd read the story of how his grandfather had threatened the life of his grandmother, forcing his father's hand to tell him where Rhysand would be meeting his mother and youngest sister. He read how his grandfather forced his father to watch as he mutilated them. 

He then read how Rhysand and his maternal grandfather got their revenge. Minds being melted, an innocent female, a victim in her own right, slaughtered mercilessly. Asher’s mother had still chosen his father, though. She was the only one who saw both sides and felt both heavy hands. Asher knew from the sadness in her eyes she would pick Tamlin again and again, though he had not met his own mate to know why yet.

“Do you always chase females,” Tamlin finally sat, relaxing enough to truly appreciate how handsome his son was.

A wide grin appeared on Asher’s face, “I can't help but to chase them. I've never met an ugly female,  father.”

Tamlin internally cringed at the word father, so informal to the earlier plea of “Dad”. “So no type?”

“Pretty, and they all are. Has to enjoy my poetry, and they all do. I have a, uh, certain way with words."

“So you seduce them with just words?”

Asher glanced up, “Why try something else when I am so good at it.” His face was filled with pride as he went to the book shelf and grabbed a leather book worn with love. He handed the heavy collection of paper to him, “Go ahead. Tell me how fantastic I am.”

Tamlin chuckled as he opened the book. It was definitely made in the Night Court, a sign of where his wife had been technically stealing from outside the obvious furniture and leathers Asher was wearing.  The pages were thick, stained slightly from ink transferring from paper to hand and back. His son's handwriting was influenced by his wife. Soft scrolls flowing together like a melody. The poetry was good, very good. “You haven't decided if you like Quatrain or Villanelle, have you?”

“No,” Asher shifted. “Should I have?”

Tamlin shook his head, “I'm over 500 years old and still bounce from around with different formats and stanza structures.” He continued reading an odd feeling setting into him before he closed the book and saw the shocked look on his son's face.

"You write poetry?!" He watched deep eyes light up and the conversation flew from there, father and son, bonding over poetry, over literature. 

The topics grew, varying from serious, to funny, to gossip. Tea constantly poured between them as they discussed being forced to train, of their mutual love of chocolate, of their favorite writers. Tamlin learned so much as the hours past before Asher asked if he wanted some fresh air.

Asher was strong, mentally, emotionally, and physically. It comforted Tamlin as they moved outside using a back magical gate made by Araceli. It took them to a vegetable garden that thrived, insects flying all around, fruit hanging from heavy trees. “Where is this place,” Tamlin looked around.

“We're still in The Middle,” Asher laid out the blanket before gently tossing his bag down. “I'm sure you secretly do recognize the cottage we're near.” The High Lord did, nodding as he studied the place he'd been told his whole life to avoid. The Weaver’s home was deadly, dangerous, and forbidden. Yet his son sat outside of it like it wasn't even phasing him. “Mom made her a deal. The Weaver likes her hair. Mom likes the protect she gives us. Once a year, mom let's The Weave cut her hair for threads in exchange for protection and us being allowed to grow this garden.”

The horrified expression on his father's face wasn't missed by Asher. A bargain with a being like The Weaver was not taken lightly. His mom worked hair to ensure her hair stayed healthy, long, and ready. The Weaver claimed her hair had some magical properties, but all Asher envisioned when he was young was the ancient being using them as some sort of enchanted tie to his mom, ready to rip her from them and eat them at any given notice. 

“Is she insane?!”

Eyes narrowed at him, “She was alone,” Asher emphasized the word making it a dagger. “She did a lot of dangerous things to protect us. You should be worshiping the very ground she walks upon.” 

Momma’s boy. 

Asher was still momma’s boy. 

Tamlin shook his head, “I love her. More than you know and understand. I love you more than you understand.”

“Loved them so much you hid them away in one of the most dangerous places in the realm?” The soft female voice had Asher smirking. Tamlin turned to face a young blonde, her hair falling in soft waves with braids placed strategically to help prevent the locks from falling into soft green eyes. 

This. This was him. Had Tamlin been born a female, this is what he'd look like. One cheek dimpled as she smiled, the asymmetry flattered her, complimenting soft cheek bones, a gently sloped nose, full blush lips. Along every inch of her face, freckles danced, marking her skin like soft kisses. 

“Sister,” a pen met paper as Asher spoke. “You are busy little bee I see.” 

Her hands were both filled with baskets almost overflowing with herbs, vegetables, edible flowers. Her nails had dirt under the nails and staining the skin. She carrying a look of pride and accomplishment Tamlin knew well. This was her garden and it was fruitful. “Your squash was ready,” she was speaking to Asher but her eyes were on Tamlin. “Momma said she could turn it into soup?” Asher nodded, but he was deep into capturing Something on page, a grunt was his only other response. She continued to stare at Tamlin, “Do you know which of your children I am?”

Tamlin wanted to roll his eyes at her, say of course, but he refrained, watching as she moved, sitting next to Asher but slightly behind him. “I know my own baby girl, Taryn,” the High Lord said. “Your dimple gives you away.” He couldn't help but reach for her cheek, but a firm hand stopped him from touching her.

“I don't believe my sister gave you permission to put your hands on her face.” A smirk of pride grew on Tamlin's face as Asher now fully looked at his father and little sister. “You may touch her when, and if, Taryn allows. Until then, no.”

Taryn leaned her head onto Asher’s shoulder as Tamlin lowered his hand. “You two are close?”

“Very,” they answered in unison.

“How were Darya and Amaya?”

“Who?”

“The river nymphs twins,” Taryn glared at Asher. “The two you've been trying to bed for a week now?”

Asher sighed and laid back, “They're impossible!”

Taryn and Tamlin glanced at him, “How so,” the high lord asked.

“They're identical! They said they only sleep with males who can tell them apart! Their hair is the same length. Their eyes both sparkle like a clear lake. They both have the perfect little nymph figure. Hair black as coal. They're gorgeous, fun, witty.” Asher covered his eyes by dramatically laying his arm across his face, “One of them I am most interested in. I believe it is Darya.”

“Does she have a shell braided Into her hair?”

Asher nodded at his sister's question, “She's.. she's just stunning. Inside and out. I may be in love."

Tamlin hid a smile as he reached into Taryn's woven basket filled with fruit and stole an apple. Asher continued telling Taryn his woes before sighing. "I wrote a new poem for her," he whispered with an air of insecurity. "I just.. wish she would respond some way, any way really.

He stood and then reached down to grab each basket, “I'll take these home. I.. I'm going to try just her. Maybe that will help?" He looked to his sister and father for some reassurance.

Taryn nodded, “I like that idea.”

“I think she's special.”

“Then she is,” Tamlin answered simply. “Go. I'll take care of Taryn.” Asher nodded, disappearing in the same gate his mother had opened.

Silence fell between the two on the blanket. The air was thick and heavy, a contrast to the brightness of his daughter's garden, to the smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes.

“You may hold me.”

4 words. 4 soft words. Spoken with hesitation, anger, grief, fear. 

Yet they opened a floodgate as a father pulled his daughter to him, the process beginning again as the sunset behind them. 

Tamlin knew his goal as he took him the scent of strawberries lingering in her blonde hair.

Board by board. Brick by brick. Nail by nail. He was going to rebuild his family. Even if doing so hurt him in the process.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

And my fellow Tamlin girlies:

@nocasdatsgay @pit-and-the-pen