#we're told he wanted to force her into marriage

[ghouldump]

Been thinking of armand x reader x louis and their whole dynamic. I could see her being one of the actors, i want them WHIPPED for her. Like sis has these two powerful beings wrapped around her finger, scary dog privileges fr

Trust | Armand x Reader x Louis

ෆ born for stardom, but destined for chaos, the last thing you ever expected was for two old vampires to become your companions.

it is finally here, the amount of requests for these two has been ASTRONOMICAL 😅 I promise there will be more in the future!!!!

“Open your hands,” your father barked. Holding out your palms, you winced, tears running down your face as the belt came in contact with your hands.

Drawing your hands back, he stopped you and roughly grabbed your wrist. Yanking your arm forward, he brought another lash to your stinging palms.

“You've been missing church to be at that bar, seducing those men like a harlot,” he screamed at you. You could see your mother looking away, too afraid to intervene. She never helped you, her marriage was first, and you were always an afterthought.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to sing, I was only singing-

“Are you alright, my love?” Snapping out of your thoughts, Armand lifted your head to look at him. You sat comfortably on the floor, surrounded by the handsome models, but looked up at your maker, while he stared down, his soft curls in his face.

“I’m okay,” you smiled, watching as he went to stand next to Louis, who sent a wink your way. Knowing him, he heard or saw something in your thoughts and told Armand.

“Shall we continue?” The photographer asked nervously, relieved when Louis nodded at him.

"Did she have to be practically naked?" Armand asked.

"You look amazing, darling, fabulous," the photographer praised, snapping the pictures.

"She wouldn't have wanted it any other way," Louis said, as they focused on the photoshoot.

In the bedazzled lingerie, you posed provocatively, the male models surrounding you. Your fangs out, lightly pressed against the model's neck for the photo.

The model tried blinking away the headache, unable to see Armand glaring, using his powers against the young man.

You were above all these mortals, yet you allowed them to touch you so freely. You and Louis were more willing to work alongside the humans, allowing them a safe space, to feel comfortable, he would never.

"And that is it, I think we're done," the photographer announced, as your team clapped.

"Great, thank you all for coming," you said, pecking the cheek of the model your teeth were pressed against.

You could feel the intense gaze from your companions, territorial and envious. Standing, you walked in front of them, the staff eyed you in fascination seeing you move so fast. Since Lestat had revealed himself, Louis had been quite stressed. He had no intentions of getting back with the blonde hotshot, but he still cared deeply for him.

Mortals didn’t believe the authenticity of his claim to be a vampire, while the elders were furious. Out of love for your companion, and the thrill of living life on the edge, you revealed your own identity, taking some of the spotlight off of him and shifting it to yourself.

If you were going to break the ancient laws, why not go all the way out and serve cunt while doing so. Becoming the next biggest Pop sensation, you were sure to cross all boundaries, and the best part of all of this, you were elusive, untouchable by almost all vampires. Being with Armand and Louis, others were scared to even look your way, despite their desire to see your demise. The next Madonna? Britney? Gaga? Rihanna? no, you were better. You were selling sex, covered in a catchy beat and raunchy choreography, and the world was eating it up.

"You two looked a little close," Armand pointed out, while Louis stared at the model, as he slipped back into a shirt.

“Stop it,” you grabbed their jaws, forcing them to look at you.

"Don't I look tasty?" you changed the subject.

"Yes, although, I wished you would have worn something less revealing for our...guests"

"I thought you liked it when I showed off, Louis, do you like my outfit?" you nuzzled your nose against his own, as his hand went around your waist. Taking in your scent, he nodded.

"I never said I did not like it, or that you did not look ravishing," Armand recanted, wrapping an arm around you.

“I think you could show better than you could tell me,” you smirked. Closing your eyes, you hummed, feeling the pairs of lips against your skin.

“Beautiful,” Louis whispered, as he continued kissing along your neck.

“The most perfect,” Armand added, moving from your neck to your lips.

“I want both of you,” you said, in between the sweet kisses, hearing Louis’s low groan.

Armand was about to command the team to leave the penthouse. They had private business to tend to with you, when your assistant, Joy, came walking in, clearing her throat.

"My apologies, your reporter, he has arrived," she said, as the two men slowly pulled away. Your silk robe, flew across the room, into Armand's hands, before he began to place it onto your body.

“Aw, and I wanted to show him my outfit,” you laughed as Armand looked at you, the idea infuriated his thoughts.

“You've shown off enough today,” Louis said, going to tie the robe closed.

"Let him in," you said, giving them both a kiss of reassurance.

However, you ended up humming in approval, as the tall man entered, he seemed too handsome to be a reporter, a Clark Kent archetype.

"I'm Robert, it is a pleasure to meet you, Vogue is extremely eager to work with you," he held out his hand for you.

"The pleasure is all mine," you winked, snickering as he backed up, glancing at the two figures behind you. You could feel Armand’s icy glare, mixed with Louis’s judgmental frown.

"Don't mind them, they won't bite, will you?" You asked them. They remained motionless for a moment, contemplating simply shredding the guy into pieces, his thoughts loud, staring at your legs, your cleavage, the rouge lipstick.

"No," Louis said, he was usually first to give in. He was loyal as they came, too focused on pleasing you to go against you.

"Armand?" You turned to your maker. He stared emotionless at Robert, who uncomfortably shifted under his gaze.

"Love, tell Robert you won't hurt him," you said, as you held his jaw, his eyes shifting to you, softening.

"I won't," he agreed.

"See, they are very well behaved, they just don't like to share, we can go into the living room, it was recently redecorated," you exclaimed, intertwining Robert's arm with your own, while they followed behind, trying to swallow their burning jealousy.

Sitting across from you, the three of you stared at Robert, watching as he pulled out his notes and laptop before he cleared his throat.

"We have been thrilled about your willingness to work with Vogue, you are very inspiring to many artists, the youth, and I'm sure other vampires. I have questions from our team and you can answer them freely, and whatever is too uncomfortable, you just let me know"

"Okay," you nodded, crossing your legs, smirking as he looked, gulping as the robe rose slightly.

'Let's start with your persona, you claim to be a vampire, is this in any way connected to the rockstar, Lestat-

"No, he is not the only vampire to exist, my maker, is much older than him. I will admit, the ancient laws, so sacred and honored, are boresome, I think the both of us would agree," you said, pausing, as he typed your words.

"Ancient laws, could you elaborate for us... mortals?"

"Think of it like our commandments, no writing about vampirism, killing other vampires, don't turn children, no revealing your nature, and allowing the person to live. I could go further, but it's all incredibly uninteresting to me," you shrugged.

"How many others like you are there?"

"I'm not sure, I don't keep count of every vampire there is," you said, as you and Louis shared a chuckle.

"Will you only ask her questions about vampirism?" Armand asked, a frown already forming.

"It's fine," you told him, as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

"Um, your career, were you always into music, or was it a passion that came over time with your gift?"

"Oh, I've always had quite the stage presence, throughout my years in high school, I think I managed to play lead in every play. Also, there was a lounge near the apartments I lived in before I turned, I performed there regularly"

"Were you pursuing a music career?”

"Not really, I knew it was something I was good at, I mean, I was great at acting and singing, but I needed more than hope and a childish dream to pick up my entire life, to try to achieve either"

"Please forgive my questioning, but since you've revealed yourself, many are fearful of your potential eating habits, any comment?"

"I cannot speak for all vampires, but my maker, companion, and I all receive blood in the most cruelty-free way. Yes, we are technically able to do these things but there are better things to do than picking up random people to kill"

"Your maker? The person, or I should say vampire, who turned you?"

"Yes"

"Who is your maker?"

"Armand," you said, watching the emotion leave his face, as he briefly glanced at him.

"If possible, could you tell us a backstory maybe your previous months, leading to your transformation”

"No," Armand interrupted, before you whispered into his ear, Robert was interested in knowing what you could have said leaving the vampire much more relaxed than before.

“I was born in a small town, less than 5,000 people. Everyone knew everyone, and they all seemed to follow the same customs, until me. My mother told me when I was a child, she knew then, I would be a star, but my daddy thought differently…”

“I swear, if she is in here, I’m beating her into next week,” your father, Joseph said, turning off the car.

“Joseph,” Sandra, your mother screamed.

“This isn't a grocery store, first she's missing church, now she is a liar,” he said, getting out of the car, his wife scrambling to follow him.

It was your mother who convinced him to let you have a job in the first place. You had been working at the next town over, for about two years now. You were able to purchase your own car and save money. The problem came in because you broke your end of the deal. You got the cashier job, but you still had to continue with church and choir with your family.

However, your parents didn't even know you didn't work at a grocery store. You managed to find a nice bar, willing to pay tips and you got to perform. Dressing up, you were able to sing and dance whatever your heart desired, as long as the lustful men got to watch you.

Easter Sunday came and went and you were nowhere to be found, leading them to begin investigating the town over, where they heard about the bar.

You stand straight as Tiffany’s

Diamonds, Diamonds

I don't mean rhinestones

But diamonds are a girl's best friend

As you finished singing, you nearly fainted as you made eye contact with your parents. Your mother had her mouth covered, while your father held a look of disgust.

The music, the form-fitting dress, the hair, the make-up, you were practically a lady of the night, dancing for these men. Nervously bowing, you accepted the tips, before you approached your parents.

“Where are your keys?” you father started.

“In my bag,” you winced at his every move, afraid of getting one of his brutal punishments.

He was strict, and it wasn't uncommon for him to get physical if he even felt like you were trying to act unladylike.

“Get your things now, you can ride back with your mother,” he told you, hardly sparing you a glance.

Quickly changing, you explained your situation to your manager, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly sitting in the passenger seat, as your mother drove you home.

“He’s going to kill me, mommy,” you whispered.

“Why would you do this, Y/n, dressed like that, tempting those men,” she stressed.

“You always said I was meant to be a star-

“That doesn't mean dress like Marilyn Monroe, of all people, she has a terrible legacy, is that what you want? To be seen as a sex symbol by all of those men?” she asked. Yes. Yes, you did, your embarrassing daddy issues made you crave the attention of men. If using your body and looks made them fall to their knees, you didn't care.

“I’m sorry-

“You’ll have to tell that to your father,” she cut you off.

“I’m 20, how long am I supposed to let him spank me as if I am a child,” you raised your voice at her. She didn't say anything the rest of the drive, pulling into the driveway.

Your father stood, leaning against your car, and as soon as your mother parked, he took long strides towards the door, opening it, and yanking you onto the grass.

Trying to get up, your efforts were futile, as he grabbed your hair, dragging you into the house. Your mother kept her head down, unable to watch the sight.

“Daddy-

“I won't let you become so whore, you are a young girl and you need to act like it,” he said, taking off his belt. You sat on your knees, crying, rubbing your head from the soon-to-be headache, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what was coming.

“Open your hands,” your father barked. Holding out your palms, you winced, tears running down your face as the belt came in contact with your hands.

Drawing your hands back, he stopped you and roughly grabbed your wrist. Yanking your arm forward, he brought another lash to your stinging palms.

“You've been missing church to be at that bar, seducing those men like a harlot,” he screamed at you. You could see your mother looking away, too afraid to intervene. She never helped you, her marriage was first, and you were always an afterthought.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to sing, I was only singing-

“You sing at church. Not some bar full of lustful drunkards, you’ll learn, no more working, no more car, after this, you can reflect on your choices,” he said, as he began swinging the belt freely.

By the time he finished, you lay stiffly on the carpet, the welts already forming. You were too tired from crying and squirming to move around, but you knew one thing, you needed to leave as fast as possible. You couldn't stay in this small town and keep dealing with the treatment.

Forcing yourself off of the floor, you limped to your bedroom. Packing only a handful of outfits in a backpack, grabbing your stash of saved money. Once you were sure your parents were settled in their room, you snuck and took your car keys from your father’s jacket.

Running outside, you quickly started your car to leave. You had to get as far away as possible, and you could find a new job wherever you went. You had enough money saved to get an apartment, but as of now you simply wanted to drive, cry, and hope to end up anywhere better than this shitty town.

“You are in luck, my dear, we just recently finished cleaning up a one-bed, one bath - the only problem is it is on the third floor, and the elevator only goes to the second,” the landlord, Gary said, smiling sheepishly.

“It doesn't matter to me, I need a place as soon as possible,” you told him.

“Then we can work something out, you seem like a sweet girl with a good head on your shoulders, I won't do a background check, just finish the application and we’ll go from there,” he said, standing as someone rang the bell in the lobby.

“Excuse me,” he said, leaving you, as you tried your hardest to hide your smile.

After hours upon hours of driving until you finally stopped in San Francisco, and the first apartments you checked, you were already finding a place to stay. Gary, the landlord, was the kindest old man, everything you wished your father was.

As he said, the process went by quickly, and before you knew it, both of you stood outside of the door, as he placed the keys into your hand.

“It’s only you and the neighbors across the hall, but you won’t have any issues, they stay to themselves,” he explained.

“Thank you so much,” you told him.

“Oh please, dear, I hope you enjoy your stay,” he told you, turning to leave you.

Your living situation was now secured, you just needed a job. The sun was beginning to set, but perhaps there were a few places you could check- your hand instinctively went to your stomach as it growled. Maybe you could eat something first, preferably something budget-friendly.

Driving around, the lounge caught your eye, Midnight Oasis, and they sold baked goods! Parking your car, you made your way inside. The room was dimly lit, most of everyone's attention on the stage. A man sat, playing a saxophone.

Going to the counter, you ordered a slice of the velvet cake, along with a cold-cut sandwich. Sitting at the bar, you watched in amazement, as the man played the instrument. Back home, you weren't allowed to listen to music on the radio, it was the devil's music, your father had even taken it out of your car.

All you had was old vinyl, bought at the record store, and all of the albums you owned were from the sixties or older. When you worked, you grew familiar with a few artists you liked, Queen, Donna Summer, and Abba, just to name a few, but you hadn't been listening long enough for any of it to stick.

As the cute plates were placed in front of you, you slowly ate, watching the performance. The man playing the music was quite handsome and had strong features, dark eyes, and a cute haircut. He kind of stood out, he didn't look like the type to be in lounges.

“Is he an upcoming artist? He's really good,” you asked the nearby bartender.

“Christopher? No, he's just a regular, the tips are nice so he keeps coming back,” she laughed.

“He doesn't work here?” you asked surprised.

“No, you sign up and the stage is yours for nearly an hour, you can do music, stand up, dance, whatever,” she said, as she cleaned the glasses.

“How do I sign up?” you asked, interested in the idea of easy tips.

“Sign that paper, I don't think anyone else has signed up, so you may be next,” she pointed out by the cash register.

“Thank you,” you said, going to the cashier to pay for your meal, along with signing the paper.

“Oh, you actually signed up,” the bartender said, surprised as you came back.

“Yeah, could I have two shots of…do you have whiskey?” you asked, taking out a few bills to pay.

Quickly making the shots, she slid them to you, watching as you reached for them.

“To new beginnings,” you mumbled to yourself. Throwing each shot to the back of your throat, you grimaced at the burning sensation, shaking your head sourly.

“That was Christopher with his self-written piece, next up, Y/n,” the cashier announced with a microphone. Exhaling, you took off your jacket and purse, revealing the shirt you'd cut into a crop top with daisy dukes.

“Could I leave this here?” you asked her, sitting it on the counter as she nodded.

Walking through the crowd, you could already feel the alcohol warming your body. You smiled at the variety of men, as their eyes widened, watching you walk past. Making eye contact with Christopher, you looked him up and down, moving to the microphone, while he walked off of stage.

“Hey,” you called out to him, biting your lip as he looked back at you.

“Do you play piano?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Could you…” you motioned.

“Sure,” he grinned, coming back on stage.

“Do you know Natural Woman?”

“Uh, yes,” he nodded.

“Okay, follow along,” you chuckled, grabbing the microphone from its stand.

Lookin’ out on the morning rain, I used to feel so uninspired-

As you started singing, he began to press the keys, and the crowd of men began whistling, wooing you. Continuing to sing, you walked from the stage, passing a few of the men, swaying your hips. The performance seemed to catch the attention of nearly all of the employees, hearing how rowdy the audience was getting.

Sitting on one of the many tables, you looked down at both of the brown-skinned men. They stared at you as if you were prey, and in a twisted way, it only made you more confident in your appearance.

Hoping up, you went back to the stage was the song was coming to an end, dramatically bowing as everyone cheered for you. The staff, the audience, security, even people that had been walking by had came in to hear your voice.

“You were amazing,” Christopher started, as he stood up.

“I know,” you laughed.

“Are you new in the area? Maybe we could get lunch sometime,” he said, and just like that, he became unattractive to you.

“I don't know, it seems a little bit too soon for any of that,” you apologized.

“No, it’s okay, at least take my number, if you're ever bored, call me,” he said, quickly writing his number on a napkin and giving it to you. Grabbing his saxophone case, he waved, before he left.

Walking from the stage, you accepted the tips, from everyone. Thanking each of them with a wink, when a man stopped you.

“That was a beautiful performance”

“Thank you”

“My name is Donald Willis, I’m the owner of this establishment, and I would love to offer a position as a full-time performer. You would get paid weekly, along with your tips, please accept, we have been this crowded for years,” he said.

“Okay,” you nodded, excitedly.

“Come back tomorrow night and we’ll talk more, Miss Y/n,” he said, eagerly, walking away.

Going to the bar, you sat down, putting your things back on.

“You certainly know how to put on a show, and Donny offered you a job,” the bartender came back.

“Thank you, I’m so excited,” you beamed. Everything seemed to be falling into place for you, leaving home was one of the best things that could've happened.

“Brava, it has been a long time since I’ve seen such an eccentric performance,” you heard, making you turn around. Of the brown men, one was clearly black, but the other was possibly desi. They were handsome, with a hungry, and lustful glint in their eyes.

“You have a beautiful voice,” the second man spoke.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“For you,” the brown man spoke, holding the folded bills, it had to be a few hundred, sticking the money in your waistband, you got goosebumps as his cool fingers brushed against your skin.

“I’m Y/n,” you spoke, they shared a smirk, before looking back to you.

“Louis”

“Armand,” you brown man spoke. His eyes felt like they were piercing through you and it only drove you crazier.

What was wrong with you? You loved men like your father, stoic, stern, a little evil, but what you loved even more was doing to them what you couldn't do to your father; break them. To have these scary men falling at your feet, there was no greater ecstasy. You certainly weren't a virgin, perhaps that was one of the many reasons your father was cold to you, but the distance between you both slowly was replaced by your nymphomaniac tendencies.

“Why’d you turn down the kid with saxophone, he seemed nice,” Louis asked.

“He’s not what I’m looking for, especially in a man,” you crossed your leg over the other.

“Really now?”

“Hm, I prefer older, mysterious men,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Is that what you think? You should get home, too dangerous for a young girl to be out alone,” Armand said, turning to walk away.

“I am not a little girl,” you told him, taking your purse, storming past him. You were too offended by his words to notice his smirk. They could hear your thoughts loud and clear, he could see the sass in your walk, this was the most intrigued Armand and Louis had been in a while.

“Hey, he didn't mean that sometimes he just speaks before he thinks,” Louis called out, trying to keep up with you, your humanly fast pace.

“It's okay, Louis, I appreciate it, not everyone can have the looks and a way with words, your loverboy lacks the latter,” you said, as Armand slowly approached the two of you.

“My apologies, I am very aware that you are indeed fully woman, I was only letting you know, that there are scary men who would give anything to hunt a woman with a face as cute as yours,” he told you, grinning as you mentally questioned why he sounded like he was from another time.

“Let them, I can handle myself,” you told him, looking away as his eyes explored your figure. He didn't even hide it, while Louis was more discreet.

“Hardly, it would only take one swift move, to have you against the car, if you knew any better, you would take my advice,” he said, making your laugh.

“Is that what this is? Your advice? You haven't been able to keep your eyes off of my cleavage since you introduced yourself, if you wanted me, all you had to do was say it,” you smirked, looking at him. He stared at you, before sharing a look with Louis.

You are the dancing queen

Young and sweet, only seventeen

Dancing queen

Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah

Singing loudly, you vacuumed the large rug in your living room. It had been only a few weeks since living in San Francisco, and things were really looking up for you. You'd been hired at the Midnight Oasis and quickly became popular, the money growing each night.

Louis and Armand, you didn't see any more, which bummed you out. After that night, what happened between the three of you, in your car, you hoped they would at least try to keep contact. However, you couldn't stay stuck on the same two people, which is why you had already been on a lunch date with Christopher.

He was there nearly every other day, and after a few conversations, you agreed to meet him for lunch. He was sweet, the stereotypical good guy behavior. He wasn’t your type, but perhaps it was what you needed, instead of the same men you kept dealing with.

The sound of knocking interrupted your thoughts, lowering the radio, you rushed to the door and swung it open. Raising your eyebrow, you were surprised to see Louis.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey, could you keep the music down a bit,” he smiled.

“You’re my neighbor, and I’m just finding this out,” you said, your eyes widening as Armand opened the door across the hall.

“We’ve known about you for some time now, just been busy,” Louis said.

“I was wondering when I’d see you both again, I figured you didn't want to see me anymore, especially since you both thought I was too much of a little girl to leave your number, but woman enough to fuck,” you raised your voice for Armand to hear. He had been staring, unblinking with those piercing eyes, never once speaking to you.

“You practically begged for it, but you are a young girl and you need to act like it,” Armand said, your eyes immediately watered, his choice of words reminding you of your father.

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis looked back at him with a frown.

“Don't listen to him-

“I don't know what your problem is, Armand, but I have some news for you. I certainly wasn't begging you, shrimp. I’ll keep the music down, Louis,” you said, slamming the door shut.

Leaning against the wall, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to calm yourself down. You had lied, trying to hurt Armand’s pride, he and Louis had been the best you'd ever had. You didn't understand what was his problem though. His eyes showed that he yearned for your attention, but the first time he saw you in nearly a month, he said something so mean.

The next morning, opening your door, you were shocked to see the bouquet. A small card, simply stating, “sorry”, not even a name. Balling up the note, you angrily took the flowers and tossed them in the trash.

As much as you were attracted to these men, it was best to do them the same thing they had done to you, leave them in the past. There were too many options for you to be stuck on two men you didn't know.

You began avoiding them like the plague, going to work and coming home. Occasionally, you made plans, but you mostly stayed in your apartment or at your job. Christopher because a recurring person in your life, and you didn't mind, if it meant the two would leave your thoughts.

I love to love you, baby

I love to love you, baby

I love to love you, baby

Finishing the Donna Summer song, you waved, facing Christopher as he pulled you into a hug. Rocking left to right, his hand rested on your lower back. Pulling away, you accepted the tips, before the both of you were at the bar.

“You did amazing, you always do, I don't think I've ever met anyone like you,” he confessed, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips. Laughing, you leaned close, pecking his lips.

“Would you like to come to my place?” you asked, tilting your head. Eagerly nodding, he stood as you held his hand, leading him to his car.

Back in the apartments, Louis leaned against the wall, and Armand sat on the sofa, trying to stop himself from destroying the area out of jealousy. They could hear you, loud and clearly. Your moans, giggles, the sound of the bed, he couldn't stop his leg from shaking.

“You can't be jealous, after what you did,” Louis told him.

“What have I done?”

“You were all inside her brain and used those words against her”

“You were in her thoughts as well, and I was trying to create distance between us, it will either be death or she is turned, if we reveal our identity. Something about her is very special, and I don't know if she should have the dark gift,” he confessed, grimacing as you whispered the saxophone boy’s name.

“That would be up to her to make that decision, I like her and I know you do too, so there is no reason for you to act like that, when you could just try to get to know her, outside of invading her thoughts,” Louis told him. It sounded very easy, but Armand couldn't help that he ended up saying the wrong thing.

Standing up, he could hear the two of you getting dressed, and soon your door opened, and you walked the boy to the stairs. Just as you were coming back, Armand opened the door, staring at you.

“Can I help you?” you rolled your eyes.

“You were loud,” he lied.

“Okay? Turn on the radio to drown me out,” you said, gasping as he was in front of you within a span of a blink.

“You choose to live vivaciously through your daddy issues-

“Excuse me?”

“When you are worthy of more than this,” he said, his eyes briefly looking down at the robe. Staring into his eyes, you smashed your lips into his own. Naturally, he picked you up, his hands moving down your back to your bottom. You moaned lightly in the kiss when suddenly, you slapped him.

He could see the tears building up in your eyes as you ran into your apartment, slamming the door. Looking back, he shared a look with a very disappointed Louis.

“You live vivaciously through your daddy issues, why the hell would you say that?” he asked Armand, as he came back into their apartment.

“I was trying to be nice-

“By bringing up trauma? When the hell has that ever worked for anyone?” Louis stressed, going into their shared room. Armand seemed like a lost cause, any possibility that he and his companion had to see or experience you again, was dropping, quickly.

“Wait, so you had a threesome with your neighbors? They're not gay?” Christopher asked. He had become a regular at your apartment, oftentimes cuddling, talking, being intimate. In a way, he seemed like your boyfriend without the title.

“Not completely, obviously, because it happened, but Armand has been the biggest asshole ever since, it really has been too much,” you shook your head.

“Do you want me to tell him to back off?” Christopher asked.

“No, he has been keeping his distance, hold on, I need to give Gary my rent,” you gasped, remembering that he said he would be out of time for two weeks.

“You want me to come?” he said, watching as you slipped into the pajama pants and slippers, grabbing the check.

“No, it's fine, I will only be a few minutes,” you said, going to the stairs.

Making your down to the lobby, you rang the bell, hearing Gary call out, one second. Leaning against the counter, you patiently waited, jumping as your name was called.

“Y/n, how are you?” Louis asked as he and Armand entered the building.

“I’m okay, you?”

“Great,” he smiled at you.

“Y/n, I-I would like to apologize for my actions towards you, how I spoke to you is inexcusable, I spoke wrongfully one too many times without thinking,” Armand confessed. You didn't say anything, staring at him.

“Gary, I’d like to pay Y/n’s rent this month,” He said.

“No, I don't need you to do that,” you refused.

“I insist, think of it as payment for the emotional distress I’ve caused,” he said, counting out a few hundred dollars, and handing them to Gary, as soon as he came from his office.

“You can spend your money on something nice,” Louis told you, as Gary looked at you.

“That is very kind of you two,” Gary nodded in approval, taking the money, and going to his office.

“You didn't have to do that, you could have done anything else,” you told Armand, your heart fluttered as he smiled.

“I told you, think of it like my payment for the distress I’ve caused you, I knew matter to speak to a lady in such a manner, but I let my tongue run loosely in the presence of a beautiful woman like yourself,” he spoke. Your eyes widened, surprised by his words. He expressed as if he was a completely different person.

“Well…apology accepted,” you said, making your way to the stairs, both of them following close behind.

“Would you two like to come over for lunch-

“We have plans tomorrow,” Louis spoke, feeling guilty as you mouthed, ‘oh’.

“But you can come over tomorrow night, do you play board games?” he continued, blushing as you smiled, nodding.

“Then we will see you tomorrow, after sunset,” Armand told you, as you approached your apartment.

“See you then,” you nodded. As you entered your apartment, Christopher looked at you confused at your smile.

“You seem happier than before you left, something happened?” he asked.

“Nope,” you said, your smile faltering as he stood up.

“I have to leave, I have class early tomorrow, I’ll see you later?” he asked, putting his shoes on.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll just see you later,” you nodded, letting him peck your cheek, before making his way out of the apartment.

Christopher made his way out of the complex, walking towards his car, when he stopped, seeing the familiar man, leaning against his car.

“You, again,” he grumbled.

“I need your help, you’ve gotten to know Y/n, and how does one grand sound?” he asked, Christopher pondered on it.

The man had approached him, some time ago, offering him money, to have access to you. The longer he declined the deal, the higher the offers became. Christopher had been trying to hold out because he did like you, but he was a struggling college student. From his understanding, in your hometown, you didn't have any plans concerning college, and since you had been in San Francisco you had taken all of the money he could have earned.

“What is your name again, sir?”

“Joseph”

“Alright, Joseph, I will let you know when we can begin planning,” he said, shaking the older man’s hand before getting into his car.

Meanwhile, Armand and Louis began getting ready for bed, undressing.

“You did good, telling her how you feel,” Louis told Armand.

“You don't think I overstepped?” Armand asked.

“She agreed to come over, so it worked,” Louis told him, as he nodded in agreement.

“Right”

“We just have to wait for the right time to tell her,” Louis said, as they climbed into their coffins.

After spending countless hours observing, they had determined that you were indispensable, the crucial element to their companionship. The apple of their eyes, from the way you walked down to your sassy mannerism, they would do anything, be anything, if it meant they could have you.

“Make your move, Y/n,” Louis taunted. It had been well over two weeks and you were beginning to form a friendship with the two males. Regularly hanging at their apartment whenever you were off or spending time with them after your performances.

“Armand, help me,” you whined, holding the cards close. You were losing terribly in the card game and with you asking for help, he immediately felt compelled, reaching forward, grabbing the necessary card.

“Why did you actually help?” Louis asked, as you laughed.

“Don't be a sore loser, Louis,” you pointed, before glancing at the clock.

“Oh god, it is getting late, I need to get dressed for work,” you said, standing up.

“You picked up tonight?”

“Donny asked me last minute if I could do it, you two should come, we can get a few drinks afterward,” you said, turning around. You caught a glimpse into their shared bedroom. You didn't know if your eyes were playing tricks on you, but it looked like a coffin inside.

“Sure, did you want to ride with us?” Louis asked.

“Will your boyfriend be there?” Armand asked, trying to hide his jealousy. Smiling, you stepped closer to him.

“I don't have a boyfriend, and no, I would rather my outfit be a surprise,” you smiled, backing out of the apartment, as Armand walked forward.

“Then we will be there waiting for you,” he said, taking your hand into his own, and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

Going to your apartment, you immediately began fixing your hair and makeup. Thinking about Armand and Louis, you couldn't help but smile, they were so interesting. A few of your colleagues warned you, claiming the men seemed strange and could potentially be dangerous.

You didn't believe that though, hanging around them nearly every day, despite how intimidating they were to everyone else, they were nothing but gentlemen to you.

Just as you slipped on your fitted dress, you heard a soft knocking on the door. Smiling, you were going to peek out and tell Armand or Louis, they had to wait. However, your smile dropped upon seeing Christopher. You hadn't seen him at all, for the last two weeks, he wasn't answering the phone, nor was he ever showing up to the lounge anymore.

“Y/n, may I come in?” he asked, unable to meet your eyes.

“Fine, you have some nerve, showing up after all this time, I was worried about you,” you said, letting him in, going to a nearby mirror to fix your lipstick, slipping your earrings into your ears.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, looking as if he would burst into tears.

“It's alright, Chris, no need to look so emotional,” you laughed, going to grab your car keys and heels.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, making you look back at him in confusion, when a cloth went to your mouth, roughly pressing against your face, until you fell unconscious.

At Midnight Oasis, just as Louis was parking the car, they felt weird feeling. You were in trouble, starting the car, then quickly went back to the apartment. Your door was shut, but by making the door swing open, they could see that you struggled only a little, knocking a few things. Picking up the cloth, it was obvious someone drugged you. Armand frowned, the cloth burning into flames before he stormed out of the apartment.

Waking up, you groaned, your head throbbing. Blinking repeatedly, your heart was pounding as you recognized your surroundings. You were home. Trying to get up, you realized your hands and ankles had handcuffs on them. When suddenly, your father walked into the room, Christopher behind him, with his head down.

You didn't know when you got here, or how long you had even been here, but you had to get out of here, as soon as possible.

“Dad…”

“You have no idea what you’ve put your mother and me through to get you back home, it was thanks to this young man, I was able to get you back,” he grinned, patting his back.

“Chris?”

“I needed the money,” he told you, looking away.

“And you, young lady, you’ve shown why you don't need to be away from home,” he said, as Christopher hesitantly approached.

“Your neighbors, they- they are some kind of monster, it may be best that you stay here,” he tried to make you feel better, as he showed you the pictures. Louis and Armand, both biting into people, seemingly killing them, fire, lots of it, as they burn the bodies. None of it was logical, you had no logical explanation for it, but all you knew was the two had treated you with chivalry and you weren't going to trust him when he had kidnapped you for your father.

“You’re wrong, get away from me, I hate you, I hat-” You dropped your head when your father slapped you in the face.

“Thank you for your help, Christopher, take your money and get out of my house,” he said, as he began taking off his belt.

“Mom, mommy,” you screamed, tears already piling up in your eyes, out of fear. Five months had come and gone, you began to live a life, free of this, but in his presence, you were filled with fear.

She came from out of their room, tears in her eyes, and she shook her head.

“Joseph, don't do this, this isn't the way, please,” she cried. You both knew this spanking would be worse than any of them.

“Shut up, go in the room,” he screamed at her, making her lower her head at his tone.

Swinging the first lash, you gasped, feeling as if your breath had been taken away. Falling over, your face landed on the carpet, as you took a deep breath, although he didn't let you recover, as he began swinging the belt harshly. You would die, you were sure he would kill you from this.

You could hear your mother crying, begging him to stop, you had enough, even Christopher hadn't left, watching the scene unfold. He questioned within himself if he had made a mistake, in helping your father. You lay crying quietly, flinching after each hit when the door broke open.

Armand and Louis walked in, and immediately, Louis was in front of Christopher, snapping his neck. He had given you up for money, making him equally guilty. Your mother screamed as you widened your eyes. Armand stalked towards your father, fire appearing in his hand, as your father backed away from him. Crouching down, Armand ripped handcuffs off with ease, caressing your wrists, then ankles.

“What are you two doing here?” you sniffled.

“Here to get the woman we love,” he said, holding your face.

“What are y-

“We will explain, everything, but trust me when I say, you will never be treated like this again, you will only know love, I promise you. Louis and I will cherish you, seeing you for all that you are, if you allow us to be your companions. Would you grant us the greatest gift, to be yours?” he asked, as Louis approached, crouching next to him.

“Yes,” you smiled, wiping your tear-stained face, as they both embraced you.

“You whore, you’ve defiled yourself, giving yourself to these demons, who have committed acts against nature,” your father spewed, as the two of them slowly looked towards him.

“That is something I have to live with, Dad,” you told him, slowly standing up.

“Do you think I am letting you leave this house after you have shown you love what is evil, it would have been better if you had never been born,” he said, pulling out a pistol from his waistband.

“Joseph, no-oh god,” your mother screamed, the most terrifying scream, as the gun went off. Holding your stomach, you looked down at the blood on your hand, before your eyes went to Armand, then Louis.

Louis caught you, as you began to fall, while Armand stood, as darkness covered his eyes. You could see the fire sparking from his hand, your vision going in and out, as he gruesomely killed your father. Breaking his limbs, drinking his blood, setting him on fire.

Louis held you, trying to keep you awake, while he searched for the bullet. Finally, as he pulled it out, Armand rushed over lifting you into his arms. Louis looked back at your mother, who cried hysterically, about to stand up, you reached for him.

“Spare her,” you struggled to speak.

“I’m going to make the pain go away, okay,” Armand told you.

“Are you sure you want to do it? I can do it-

“No, I got it,” Armand said. All this time, in San Francisco, he had been trying to push you away with mean words, to avoid this happening to you — but now at this moment — he wanted only his blood flowing through your veins.

Struggling to nod at his words, your eyes began to roll back, as he began drinking your blood, and before death could take you, he pulled away. Your breathing was shallow, slow, and unsteady, as you reached to hold his face.

Using his nail to slice his skin, he brought his wrist to your mouth. “Drink,” he told you, watching as you slowly began to swallow, holding onto his arm. Finally, after you had enough, you let go, laying back in his arms, as your eyes went to Louis, reaching to hold his hand.

“We will teach you everything you need to know, in your new life, but things of your former life will have to be left behind,” Louis told you, motioning to your mother. Nodding, you watched as he stood up, approaching her. She flinched away from him, but he grabbed her, glamouring her, telling her a fabricated story, before sending her to bed.

Despite still having a wound, your stomach no longer hurt, but rather churned. Armand looked down at you, Patting your stomach, he smiled.

“No worries, it is normal, and won't last for long,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“What are we?” you asked him, as your body felt physically exhausted.

“We are vampires and we will have an eternity together”

“Promise?”

“I promise”

“I’m sorry,” Robert said, genuinely feeling pity for you.

“Oh no, there is no need to be sorry, my father was a terrible man, as was Christoper, no different than Judas, it was unfortunate that I had been shot, but my maker and companion both avenged me, before I was given the dark gift,” you said, as Armand kissed your intertwined hand, while Louis kissed your cheek.

“And what of your mother?”

You remember as if it was yesterday when you got the letter in the mail. She was old, wheelchair-bound, and waiting for her time to come. She had sold everything and now lived in a retirement home. Louis had only wiped her memory up until the night you left, blaming her husband’s death on sickness. She wrote you a letter, begging that you would come see her, and out of curiosity, you showed up.

You felt bad for her, she couldn't help that she was brainwashed into the role of what was considered a good wife. However, when you showed up, first she praised how young you looked before she began to scold you. She couldn't believe you would up and abandon your family because of mistakes your father made, it was shameful, etc. You knew it was wrong, but you made her remember everything, a devious smirk on your face as you left the facility. She screamed that same scream from that night, terrified by the things she had seen and allowed.

“Her memory was erased and she lived the rest of her and died a happy old woman,” you smirked.

“After your time at Midnight Oasis was that the night of your music career, until recently?”

“No, I continued there a few more years and went on to do some behind-the-scenes work, songwriting, producing, a little bit of everything”

“Do you ever…do you ever think of seeing other vampires, or even people? An eternity seems like a long time to be bound to someone,” he managed to get out. You could practically see the steam radiating from Armand and Louis, as they stared at him. Laughing, you lay your head on Louis’s shoulder

“Not really, companionships are different than any average relationship, so the circumstances are really the same either”

“Miss Y/n, excuse me, but your meals have arrived,” Joy peeked into the living room.

“I’m afraid this interview will have to be cut short, Robert,” you told him, leaning forward, an enthusiastic grin on your lips.

“We will finish on Zoom, ciao,” you waved, as he blushed, packing his things.

“I will see you, then,” he said, unable to meet the eyes of Armand and Louis because of their harsh stares.

“Did you have to scare him?”

“He’s lucky he didn't get worse,” Louis said.

“Exactly, with his perverted thoughts, I should have ripped every limb from his pathetic body-

“If you two kill every person who wants me, who will fawn over me?” you asked them, while they shared an expression.

“Us,” they said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Obviously, but you like when I’m performing, being ravished with attention, not just you two but others,” you pouted, as you began to open the robe.

“Of course, but it is infuriating hearing the thoughts of everyone who thinks they could have a chance with you”

“Let them have their fantasies, it is on the stage that they can use their imagination, but you both know I won't be going anywhere any time soon,” you said, kissing Armand’s lips, then Louis’s.

“Promise?” Louis asked you.

“I promise,” you laughed, your pinkies wrapping around both of their pinkies.

“Miss Y/n, your first meal…”

i'm not sure about how i feel about this one, but time will tell…

[elliestwoleftfingerss]

marry that girl, marry her anyway - simon riley x female!reader

author's note: i was in a writing mood, so voila! (my cat was sat in my lap and i couldn't move, so i was forced to do something Imfao shush)

synopsis: you and simon make a pact to marry at thirty if you're both still single.

pairing: childhood best friend!simon riley x female!reader (use of y/n)

proofread: none.

warnings: very mild language, mentions of substance use (alcohol), suggestions to simon's past, simon and reader bestie-d so hard that they made a marriage arrangement <3

"if neither of us are married by the time we're thirty," a twelve-year-old you told simon, holding up your pinky finger in hope that he'd wrap his around yours, sealing the promise you were about to make. "we'll marry each other. you promise?"

offering you a shy smile, simon reached his hand out and used his own little finger to curl around yours. "yeah. i promise."

truth be told, you were both naive kids in the stage of growing up where you had no idea about all the up's and down's of life outside of childhood. the deal, as you saw it now, was something silly; something that you'd both look back on and think, 'how stupid were we to make a promise like that?' being it unlikely you'd actually go through with it. you'd probably forget about it in years to come.

simon moved away some time during secondary school, and you didn't get to see much of him anymore. your conversations consisted of chasing each other over facebook accounts that weren't yours, sneaking your parents' laptop into your bedroom to talk to your friend uninterrupted. you'd both spend hours talking late into the night, rubbing away sleep and prying your eyes open every time your body tried to rest.

it was strange not seeing him in school anymore; that's where you saw him the most, and that's where you'd met. a pair of young seven-year-olds, sitting on opposite sides of a rotting park bench in your crappy primary school. seven-year-old you sat silently, eating your lunch, when simon sat down on the other end of the bench. that's when you looked over at him and innocently offered him a sandwich from your pink, sparkly packed lunch box.

and the friendship just blossomed from there.

you really missed him. at times, you'd catch yourself thinking about him when you weren't talking and instead imagined him sitting right beside you, speaking to you like he'd never left at all. it was bittersweet.

the pair of you kept in contact, but it became difficult as you got older. you had more responsibilities, more reasons that pulled you away from the dream world you experienced whenever you got the opportunity to talk to him. the dream world where you could be best friends forever. but life was never like that.

as you grew up, messages were periodically exchanged. the occasional 'hey, how are you?' message here, the sporadic 'we should meet up' phone call there. it was rare that you two would actually see each other, seeing as you lived your own busy lives, but it was the thought that counted.

you were just glad that, even though he wasn't in your life as much as he once had been, he still took it in himself to check on you. that warmed your heart.

it was almost like a ritual at this point. your phone chimed, the familiar sharp ding drawing your attention. you flipped the device over and opened the notification, your thumb hovering over the screen as you read the message in front of you.

hey. i'm back in town this week, for your birthday. figured we could meet up? go for coffee?

you couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at simon's text. he'd remembered your birthday; and he wanted to meet up.

your fingers drifted over the digital keyboard as you thought of a reply before you started typing out a message. the tapping of your fingertips was the only noise as you read what you'd written before sending the text off.

hey,

i'm having a small get-together at my house. you should come. it'd be nice to see you again.

the green active dot floated beside his profile picture - or lack, thereof - before three small circles jumped up at the bottom of the screen to indicate that he was typing again. the phone pinged again.

count me in.

and that was the last message you received before he arrived a week later. it was a saturday evening, and some of your close family and friends were gathered in your house, drinking and chatting. you'd given simon your address, but you were yet to see him.

unbeknownst to you, he slid through the front door, greeted by a few members of your family as he slinked into the small house. as he was paused at the door, he caught sight of you fluttering between rooms, drink in hand. a small, crooked smile graced his face as he spotted you, before he was dragged back into conversation.

you escaped to the freedom of your kitchen after a long conversation with your mother, which you found yourself zoning in and out of, leaning your back against the closed door with a sigh. you forgot how tiring parties could be, especially when you were the host.

with your cup - now empty - in your other hand, you picked yourself up and walked across the kitchen to refill it. the plastic solo cup crinkled as you put it down on the kitchen island, humming a quiet, incoherent tune to yourself as you sought out a replenishment.

aha! your fingers wrapped around the neck of a two-litre bottle of lemonade, holding it to your chest as you twisted the cap. the sizzle of the evanescent beverage masked the sound of the kitchen door opening.

when you turned around to pick up your cup, you almost dropped the plastic bottle to the ground out of shock. a mountain of a bloke stood in the doorway, hands slipped into the pockets of his dark jeans as he took a few steps forward, into the light. his thick plane of chest muscle rippled beneath the tight constraints of a black polo-shirt.

"y/n," he said, that familiar manchunian accent rolling over you like a wave, encapsulating you like a warm blanket.

you stood there for a moment, a little too dumbstruck to come up with a coherent thought. of course, you could recognise that accent anywhere - tinged with a mixture of gruffness and amusement, as per usual.

you knew he'd grown up - obviously - and he joined the military. but you did not expect that.

"simon," you murmured, putting down the bottle so it wouldn't end up slipping from your suddenly-sweaty hands. "jesus christ, you look so-! i didn't recognise you!" you stuttered.

"it's nice to see you too, y/n," he chuckled, the sound deep and gruff in his throat. he strolled forward some more, his steps leisurely as he stopped at the island that separated the pair of you. he put down a card and small, wrapped box that he'd had tucked under his arm. "happy birthday."

"thanks," your gaze fell to what he'd put down on the countertop, before running back up and landing back on his face. "can i get you a drink?"

"please, love," he gave a curt nod, pulling his hands from his pockets and propping them against the edge of the island instead. the petname slipped from his lips as smooth as butter. "anything'll do."

you bent down behind your side of the counter, searching the lower cabinets for another cup. the cover also gave you the opportunity to hide the flush that had appeared on your face and neck. hoo, was it suddenly hot in here? you should open a window, y/n.

"so, the big three-oh, eh?" simon said as you popped back up with an extra cup in your hand. a lazy smirk appeared on his face as he watched you pour him a drink. "that went by quick."

"tell me about it," your eyes darted up to meet his as you tightened the cap on the plastic bottle of lemonade. "how've you been?"

simon's fingers curled around the edge of the island as he didn't let his eyes waver from you. as much as you thought he'd changed, he thought the exact same of you. "that's a loaded question," he chuckled. "mostly good. busy."

you carefully slid the mixed drink over to him. "you still with the military?"

"yup," he said with a soft sigh. "special forces."

both of your eyebrows cocked up simultaneously. "that's an achievement."

"i guess so..." he said, ever the person to avoid too much intrusion. he wasn't all that fond of talking about himself. he paused in his endeavours and picked up the cup, taking a sip before he spoke again. "enough about me; how are you?"

"good, thanks," you said simply.

you were, in all honesty, too distracted to make full conversation as you took in his appearance. the person who was once a scrawny, prepubescent boy was now a giant of a man, built like a tank as he filled in the kitchen doorway. simon riley, the kid who was built like a bean stalk and stayed the same height until he was a teenager, was now standing in your kitchen.

but he wasn't a child anymore, no. he was a man. and a massive one at that.

"what brings you back down this way?" you spoke up, your head cocking slightly to the side as your eyes ran back up to his face. and that's when you saw it. the smirk he was wearing. that god forsaken smirk, the same one that'd got you both in trouble too many times to count. it was painfully obvious that he was thinking about something, and his facial expression was an open door into his train of thought. he was stirring something up, and he was well aware that you knew. "why're you looking at me like that?"

he gave a small shrug and put his cup down on the island, letting his smirk drop to a more neutral expression. "it's your birthday, and i haven't seen you in person for... a while. i couldn't pass it up."

something in your head didn't fully believe him. as much as you loved him, you thought he had another reason to be here. he lived a busy life; surely he wouldn't come all this way for some lousy party? "is that- is that all?"

"actually, come to think of it," he hunched a little over the kitchen island as he peered down into the interesting depths of his drink. "there is something else."

you blinked at him expectantly, wondering what it was he had to say. he pushed the tip of his tongue into his cheek, choking back a small laugh. he couldn't believe he was about to bring this up.

"y'know, when we were little," those brown eyes fluttered back up to meet yours, "you made you promise me something."

he laughed a little louder this time at your expression of apparent confusion. funny. you were always so enthusiastic about the future, and now you couldn't even remember the little thing you told him, though. it wasn't so little, after all. that little promise stuck with simon, and he wasn't a man to break something like that, as much as people would take the piss out of him.

"you had me promise that i'd marry you, by the time you turned thirty," you watched as the behemoth of a man gently pushed his cup across the island, following close behind it so he could step towards you. "what'dya think of that, love?"

oh. well. you didn't expect that.

you don't know what you'd expected. it'd been nearly two decades since you told him you'd marry him. you thought he'd forgotten. heck, you'd forgotten yourself.

"i was a kid, i didn't know what the hell i was on about," you said, eyes slowly following him as he moved himself closer. "we made that promise when we were children."

"it was still a promise. it was real to you."

now that the memory was fresh in your mind, you could see it as clear as day. it was some time during break, at school, and you and simon were sitting under an overgrown willow tree at the near back of the school field - your willow tree.

the grass was green and overgrown underneath, the long, drooping branches just touching the ground. the tree was so overgrown that the grass never got it's monthly cut around the base of the tree; just lazily cut around the perimeter, and it made the perfect cushy spot to shade yourself: from the weather, from the teachers, from the other kids. it was your own little haven where you and simon hid beneath.

you'd both been sat against the trunk, staring into the mass of willow branches as you quietly unpacked your lunch. you pulled two clingfilm wrapped sandwiches from your bag, tossing one to simon. he usually came to school without lunch, which you picked up on, and it became a ritual for you to make an extra sandwich for him and stuff it in your backpack.

the sandwich hit his chest, and he huffed, murmuring a thanks as he started unwrapping it. and that's when your uncensored mouth worked before your little brain could keep up.

"i think we should get married when we grow up," you said, so casually, as if you were having a conversation over tea - well, sandwiches.

simon, who had just taken a bite of his sandwich, stopped mid chew, a bit of lettuce peeking between his lips. his head whipped over to look at you. "come again?" he cocked an eyebrow, his tongue slipping out to pull the piece of greenery into his mouth.

"i said i think we should get married," you said again, your gaze finally darting over. you snickered at his expression. "not now, obviously. when we grow up."

"where'd this idea come from?" he asked, getting over his bewilderment and biting off another bit of salad sandwich.

"dunno," your thumb came up to wipe some stray butter on your top lip, inspecting it before licking it off. "sounds kinda nice. just living with your best friend. ooh, no. we'd need at least four dogs and six cats, too."

simon laughed at your innocent delusion. you may have been close in age, just children, but he didn't really buy into ideas like that. he knew better, when he shouldn't have. they reminded him of his mother and father's marriage - once happy, once full of love, before something changed, some flip was switched. and the entire family; simon, tommy, and their mother, got the brunt of their father's uprising.

but maybe with his best friend, it wouldn't be such a bad thing. they get along just fine, and who would he be to say no to retiring to rest every night to find his bed full of dogs? he wasn't... opposed?

"okay," he swallowed down his mouthful. "but what's in it for me? you get all these animals, but what do i get?"

you thought about it as you thumbed through the layers of your sandwich. "you get to spend more time with me."

"right."

"thirty."

"thirty what?"

"if neither of us are married by the time we're thirty, we'll marry each other. you promise?" you blinked at him, holding up your free hand.

"i promise."

simon folded his arms across his chest, now stood before you. you'd backed up against the fridge, and his movements to lean on the island in front of you pulled you from your recollections.

"yeah... i guess it was... real to me," you murmured, gently shaking your head as you looked back up at him. his smirk had been replaced by a thoughtful look as he inspected you from head to toe. "but it's not that easy anymore, simon."

"of course it is. we can go, right now," he slowly took a sip of his drink before laying it down on the counter, out of the way. "what do you say, y/n?"

"i say..." your words trailed off to silence.

it sounded stupid. you couldn't just go off and marry him. you had responsibilities. you had a life. so did he. and an important one, at that. was that going to put everything else on the line? everything you'd both built? is this the whole reason he came to the party tonight?

but the line between what you needed and what you wanted were two different things. and yet, they started to blur. fading into one life where you had everything you required, and everything you desired. and what you wanted right now?

you wanted him. you needed him.

"marry me, y/n?" his voice had dropped an octave, and he'd taken a step closer to you. you watched him hopelessly, pushing your hair back from your face.

"yes," you whispered, so quietly he probably wouldn't have heard had he not been standing so close.

and with your breathless acceptance, he slammed his lips against yours.

author's note: i blatantly REFUSE to believe that this man isn't a hopeless romantic 😌💅 hope you enjoyed, me pookarinos <3

[archangeldyke-all]

teacher reader and teacher sev finding out about jinx’s crush on the new boy at school (ekko). i feel like sevika would be the type of teacher to purposely assign them seats together to watch how their relationship would unfold ☺️

GAHHHHHHHH CUTE (i'm obsessed with this little story hehehe)

men and minors dni

sevika finds you in the teachers lounge, a mischievous smile on her face. "you got jinx next period, right?" she asks.

you snort. "yeah, why?"

sevika kisses your cheek in greeting before sitting beside you, propping her feet in your lap. ran rolls their eyes and pretends to gag. you laugh.

"i think she's got a crush."

"what?! on who?" you ask.

one of the best parts of your job is watching teenage romance blossom between your students. despite the fact that sevika acts like she doesn't care, from the giddy giggles she's letting out right now, you know she does.

"y'know the new kid? ekko?" she asks.

you snort. you do know the new kid. he was home-schooled by his parents most his life, but he's decided to finish out his high school education at zaun high, wanting to experience a 'real' school before getting sent off to college. he's a sweet boy, he's already asked you about joining the 'volunteer club' you run every wednesday after school, and he's always excited to talk about the reading assignments in your class.

"what makes you say that?" you ask.

"she actually ran laps today to keep ekko company. apparently, she's appointed herself to be his 'school guide' until he gets used to things."

you giggle. "maybe she's just being friendly."

sevika gives you a deadpan look. "baby. it's jinx."

you laugh. "alright, alright. i'll see what i can do." you promise.

sevika corners you again after school, while you're straightening up your classroom.

"so, whaddya think?!" she asks, sitting criss-cross on one of your student's desks. you giggle.

"i think you're onto something. i put the kids in pairs today to edit their essays. jinx and ekko were giggling the entire time."

sevika grins. "i knew it!"

you laugh and approach your girlfriend, kissing her forehead. "you're a genius. they're pretty cute together, too."

sevika hums. "are you done here yet? i wanna take you out for dinner."

over the weeks, you and sevika make little changes in your classrooms to nudge ekko and jinx closer to one another.

sevika conveniently assigns them as partners for most of the drills she forces the kids to do. you assign them desks beside one another. you even get ran and mel in on it, both of them pulling strings in their own classes, too.

ekko drags jinx to voulenteer club every wednesday, and sevika says jinx has been hanging around during the boys' baseball practice to watch him play.

the first time you catch the two of them holding hands down the hall, you almost break your neck with how fast you run to the gym to tell sevika the news.

"woah, easy there tiger!" she laughs as she catches you when you stumble. you giggle, kiss her cheek then tell her the news.

"jinx and ekko were holdin' hands." you say.

sevika grins. "fuck, really?! i told you!"

by the time it's homecoming season, the pair have made it official.

you and sevika watch ekko and jinx slow dance from the corner of the gym where you're supposed to be chaperoning. you giggle.

"they're gonna get married one day." you say. sevika snorts.

"they're sixteen!"

"look at 'em!" you laugh, gesturing to the couple. ekko's giggling as jinx twirls him under her arm, and she chuckles as he swoops back around and kisses her cheek. "they're clearly soulmates." you say.

sevika snorts. "well, if they do make it to marriage, we deserve an invite to the wedding." she mutters. "we're the whole reason they're together in the first place."

"do you think they know all the little tricks we pulled to get 'em together?" you ask.

sevika snorts. "hell no. i've done everything i can to make them think that i find them disgusting."

you cackle, then pinch sevika's ass. she jumps and glares at you. you giggle and blow her a kiss as you jog away to the other side of the gym to stop some freshmen from spiking the punch bowl.

kofi

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[szarina]

Hiiii, do we ever get an origination or backstory for each darling in your JJK yandere stories? Like how did the yandere got y/n to marry them, did they use blackmail or kidnapping 🩵🩵 I really like your stories.

TALES OF UNREQUITED ROMANCE

♱ featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ notes i might write a one shot for each origin. starting from gojo to geto.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ content warnings noncon, babytrapping, villain! nanami, murder, gore, manipulation, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, blackmail, kidnapping, degradation, dark themes. dead dove do not eat.

obsession starts in mysterious ways. unrequited love. forced affections.

GOJO SATORU

a childhood friend to the likes of gojo satoru doesn't bode well in adulthood. now a wife to him. you didn't dream of being a wife. you wanted freedom. away from the hostile environment of the jujutsu society but one can never be gone from the family you grew up with.

your father the clan head of a minor jujutsu family, have ties with the gojo clan and often brought you in clan meetings to learn the way of how the jujutsu society works and then you meet the wielder of the six eyes and infinity. the bearer of the innate technique that is unique to the gojo clan. gojo satoru became your friend in the days of your father's visit. forming an unlikely bond with a sheltered kid like him.

gojo satoru was lonely. you've seen it. the days where you visit is where you only see him smile and you told him there's a vast world outside of the compound in where he lives. the outside world where no one would dictate how he would live his life. servants and maids alike fuss over him. spoiled a kid like him but never allowed to venture the outside world that only he would see is the lark and the walls surrounding him.

satoru once accepted that this is the life he would have for the rest of his days but he was wrong. when he meet you one winter day where the snow came down to earth and there you were covered with snow flurries. staring awkwardly each other before you gathered the courage to speak to him. he likes it. no courtesies or whatever formal shit. you spoke to him normally.

“satoru.” a hushed voice calls out to him and he looks around for where the source of the sound may be coming from. he finds you perched in your brother's shoulders. calling him outside of the wall, enough for you to take a peek. you point at the direction of the deserted part of the compound. “come, no questions asked. we're going outside.” he didn't need to be told twice.

he weren't allowed outside where average humans and curse users alike blend in the crowd wanting his head. his clan forbidden him so but here he are. holding your hand with your brother trailing behind guarding his sister and her friend. gojo looks at the intertwined hands belonging to him and you. your hand is so soft and warm too. it perfectly holds against his own and satoru looks at you and for the first time he might be in love with you.

might is not exact word. he is in love with you deeply but you're not. when you both have grown and his technique was fully awakened, you both drifted apart with the hatred you have for him. he grew but not with emotional maturity that comes with it and you were the subject of his mockery. you were his chubby childhood friend and you didn't shed the weight as you grew older and it attracted satoru's teasing to you until it escalated into something more and you can't take no more of it. you left.

he realized it later years and the clan have come pressuring him into taking a wife to continue the bloodline and the legacy of the clan and he only thought of someone who is perfect for him, you. accepting his proposal and with you being his wife, he would make up for the years for the pain he had caused you.

however life have different plans for him. the proposal was rejected. he met your father asking for your hand but your father refused, saying it's not his place to answer him and it will come from you and that's what he did but you also refused. you won't be tied to a marriage you didn't want and to the person you didn't love. it left a bitter taste to his mouth but he won't give up.

easy it was for him to make you accept his proposal. you loved your family that was your weakness and it took him to accuse your brother of the crimes he didn't commit and exile to your family if proven guilty. you came running back to your family and you asked him what your family did to him to plot such acts against them. you were met with an answer that it was your fault and if you won't accept being betrothed to him, they will suffer.

a wedding took place and after the exchanging of cups, you sealed your fate him much to his pleasure that you will always be bound to him.

“you're beautiful.” he whispers to you. his lips grazing to the shell of your ear. fingers untying the knot in your obi. “i only accepted what you want but that doesn't mean i will love you.” your eyes swelling with tears. “ it's fine you will learn to love me.” pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and your kimono drops to the floor. leaving you bare for his eyes to see. “can we have this for a another night, satoru? I'm not ready.” taking a gulp of air and you shivered from the cold air.

“i've waited long for this, i'm sorry and i won't hold back.” his lips kissing your soft back and you don't think there's a way for you to escape this.

NANAMI KENTO

a sheep in a pack of wolves.

that's how he sees you working in this company and he would say you were too lucky to survive for this long and how did you get here working for this place. this isn't a place for people like you. people here are going to devour you and he's not an exception.

the blood are splattered all over the glass walls. the floor is wet with blood and the pile of corpses increases as a body drops. slicing them with his blade like the body were made of butter. he brings a cloth to wipe his blade clean before putting it to his holster and he was ready to take off then he hears a squeak. nanami removes his glasses upon hearing the noise. he knows it is you before commiting such acts to his coworkers but they're nothing but a soulless flesh to him.

he hears you breathing. staggering as tried to keep it silent and you know what he's really capable of and you have the sense to hide before he wrecked havoc in this company. it was his first massacre and what's better than to slaughter these greedy scums and you're the exception of his punishment.

crawling is all you can do after deciding it was clear for you to get out of the table you were hiding in. cursing yourself earlier after making a sound and you hoped that he didn't hear when he began killing your coworkers and his. you go the warning earlier when a colleague hits the wall after being kicked by him and that was your cue to hide. you didn't nanami that much. reserved and only talks when a conversation is being initiated and you never had much interacted with him before.

turning around to study your surroundings, there was no trace of him except for the dead bodies of your colleagues. bleeding and cold unto the floor with their eyes open and you began to cry softly. thinking how he could do this to everyone and to you. you won't be an exception.

looking at your reflection in one of the glass walls separating you with the others, a scream almost came out from you if it wasn't for the hands clamping to your mouth. it's nanami. staring at you in the reflection of glass and he stops you from screaming but there's no sound you can produce even with his hand covering your mouth and your eyes are the only part of you that screams for help. peering at him with your blurry vision from the tears streaming down your face. “quiet.” he tells you and you nod. not wanting to be killed in a painful death. he let go of your mouth and you cried heavily. you were so tired and the moment your body relaxes, you lost consciousness and the last thing you see is him.

nanami picked your unconscious body before leaving the building and the next day, the killings were on the news with two person missing. you and nanami.

when you woke up the place you were on is soft and realizing you were in a bed. you grabbed your clothing and you were changed in a new set of clothes and then upon looking your surroundings, you see him. sitting in a leather chair dress in his white dress shirt and pair of slacks. reason a book with a glass of wine in his coffee table.

“where am i?” you ask him, confused on why are you still alive and now in a bed with the killer who slaughtered your colleagues with no mercy. “my place.” he answered you. closing the book and standing up to tend you. tentatively touching your cheek and you met his gaze. “why?” you dare ask him and he knows what you meant. “they are scum.” he takes the furrowing of your eyebrows as needing for more answers and why he did spare you. “.... and you're not.”

“can i go home?” his thumb caress the roundness of your cheek. his brown eyes turned cold and then you were doomed when he answered you.

“no. you're going to stay here by my side.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI

you don't pick strays from the street. they will come back and sometimes would abuse you.

your situation with toji was like that. you find him on the verge of death. blood pouring out from his abdomen and bruises littering all over his body when you found him and out of the goodness of your heart, you took him. tended to his wounds until he was healed up and was ready to go wherever he wants and that was your mistake.

you should have left him for dead.

that was close. toji thought when he woke up in a stranger's bed. all patched up and a meal beside him. then a woman appeared, his savior. you weren't his type and he didn't gave you a second look upon greedily shoving the meal you prepared for him and that was it. no thank you and only a grunt. he left the following day and you think that was it? you were wrong.

he came back. and the next and the next.

“you have no business here, toji. there's nothing for you to come back here.” you say it to him. no pause and all sincerity that you're done and he was also done. there was no strings attached and you are strangers. a kindness is all you've given him and he don't need you anymore. end of story but why does he always come back to you.

there was no appeal from you and surely now he would be in another's woman bed. a body of a model with huge assets with their thin legs and a fat wallet for him to take. squeezing them out for his pleasure. one can't resist him. a gigolo he would be now. he always has been. can't stay permanently to one place and moving to another. jumping from woman to woman and surely he could have forgotten you but why would you crossed his mind like you were a bad memory but you weren't. you were good to him. you say you just have took care of him out from kindness and when he comes knocking at your door, you shooed him off. kindness is a treasure one must not give for free and you did it but why won't you let him return the favor. you could have accepted him but you didn't.

fucking bitch. he cursed you every goddamn day that passed. cursing that you should die and leave his thoughts alone for good but what did you do for him to act this way. you're fat and people like you should be kind cause it's the only way you can redeem yourself from being one. yet, he craved you like he yearned for the blood of those who are above him. if you won't accept him, he would make you.

with the blood money he recently received from a anonymous organization, he purchased a penthouse. it cost a leg but it was worth the purchase considering it would be put to a good use. he would use it for you and you will play like a good housewife to him. it was decided from the start that you would be his wife. a place to live in. check. the only one thing that is left is you.

he took you like you rescued him that night. unconscious and waking up in a unfamiliar place. the scar on the corner of his mouth twitches when he smirked at you. panicked and out of breath resisting him but he was quick to place. he knows you won't accept him but he would make. quick to mount you like a stallion to a mare.

gripping the plushness of your body while he fucked his seed inside you. watch as your body jiggles from the impact of his thrust. deaf to your cries and to your pleas. after he dumps his seed deep inside you. you were presented with marriage documents. his signature is already signed and yours is the only left. he says that he's done breeding you and soon a brat will come soon. you needed to be married to him. he won't father a illegitimate child. toji does illegal things but it would be illegal to not marry you.

“come on now, sweetheart. you don't want our child to be a illegitimate one, eh?”

GETO SUGURU

you were just like him. sort of.

ostracized by the monkeys and forced yourself to live in the shadows and that earned you a part of his life. geto suguru runs a cult where he exploits of what he deems as the monkeys of the society. filthy they are as they were dumb.

spewing insults to you for the things they can't see and understand. living in the dark isn't pleasant and geto took you to see the light.

he saved you and you owe him for that and debts must be repaid for what he have done. you get what you have wished for. a place you can call home and a family. the special grade curse user treated you like one and you followed him.

you were perfect. he's a good judge of character. you would be useful to him. a technique and a mind like yours is what he needed for the world he was about to make and you were a maternal figure to his adopted twins. mimiko and nanako always spoke highly of you from how good you were treating them and suguru likes you for that.

you never shared the same ideals as him but he's fine with it. he can't force you on things but with his words that flows like honey coming from his mouth. saccharine sweet that it makes your teeth rotten. completely delusional to his beliefs and how you've survived for long, you adapted to things that would ensure your survival and he made you fall for his words.

that's why it feels natural to you while he disrobe you. how his kisses were far from platonic and not so familiar. stripping you bare while his fingers dip in the plushness of your cunt. hanging to his every words while he molds you to his likeness. a marionette he plays you. pulling you to the strings of what he wants you to do and you get into it. loving every minute of it and you devote yourself to him now.

[yup-thats-me]

—Last Resort • P. Seonghwa

🀢pairing; ❝ceo!Seonghwa x fem!secretary!reader❞ 🀢summary; ❝Has Seonghwa's secratory always been a perfect match with the ceo?❞ 🀢a/n; ❝this is inspired from @wooyoungiewritings's latest series, "Borrowed Time." Go read it, like RIGHT NOW. Its honestly so good🤌😩Tell me if guys want me to continue, tho. feedback is greatly appreciated<3❞

"Fuck," Seonghwa cursed under his breath, the papers and the coffee spilling all over the marble flooring of his office.

As the ceo tried to tidy up his mess, he heard the glass door open, and heels clicking against the floor. He doesn't even need to look to know who it is.

"Let me help, Mr. Park," her voice is ever so soft as she grabbed the fallen papers now stained with the coffee and even then she smiled encouragingly.

Seonghwa sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. "Thank you, Y/n," he muttered. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Honestly."

Y/n smiled as stood up, the papers in her hand. "You keep me on a very high pedestal, Mr. Park. You'll do just fine without me."

Seonghwa shook his head. "Nonsense. You're one of the most efficient in this office, hell, the company even."

"Thank you, Mr. Park," She tipped her head in modesty. "Well, I'll be back with a set photocopy of these dcuments then?"

She smiled, walking to the door. "Y/n."

"Yes?"

Seonghwa stared at the woman for a second, eyes glued to hers. "O-oh yeah," he stammered. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"It's really nothing, Mr. Par-''

"How many times have I told you to call me Seonghwa instead? Mr. Park sounds too uptight."

With a giggle, Y/n nodded. "Alright, Seonghwa. Be back in ten."

Seonghwa stood there, watching as Y/n, his secretary waving, small talking his other employees. She's a natural, Seonghwa thinks. She seems to know what exactly to say and do at all times, always smiling. Not the smile that seems forced or practiced, but natural.

Seonghwa would have liked to stand there and watch her when the buzz from his pocket interrupted.

"Seonghwa."

"Hyung," voice cold and distant.

"You remember, right? Dinner on Saturday?"

Seonghwa groaned, nodding. "Yes, yes. I remember, alright?" He seems to be losing temper.

"Just checking," The older spoke. A beat of silence. "Mother and Father are worried about you, you know."

The ceo looked out the window that oversees the city, bright and bustling in the morning sun. "Mm. I know."

With a "okay," the two brothers hang up.

Marriage. A scary thing indeed.

How many years has it been that Seonghwa's parents have been telling him to get married? "We refuse to die without seeing your children, Park Seonghwa," his father reminds him every time he calls.

After years of persistent nagging, they had to take a step.

"Seonghwa, your patience,, it seems is limitless" His father had warned just last week when he paid them a visit. "You seem to have no plans of getting married! Look at your brother, he's happily married and with two beautiful kids too."

"If not for his passion for his job, he would've taken over instead." Seonghwa silently balled his fist by his side. "Would've been better, too."

With a sigh, Seonghwa's father composed himself. "We're setting you up with the Choi's."

"What?"

Seonghwa almost jumps from his seat. "I don't recall asking you to do that?" He groans. "I'm capable enough to look for my own wife."

"You're not," Mr. Park slammed his hand against the table. "You're getting married this year, no matter what."

That was a week ago. It had been on Seonghwa's mind since then. If he doesn't do anything, he'll be married off. Married off to someone essentially thrust into him. Someone he barely knows. But he is the ceo, too. If he stalls any longer, his relatives within the company would begin an uproar.

As ridiculous as it sounds, he has to have a wife and children by his side to continue as the chief executive, or else rumors start to fly. Rumors that can singlehandedly destroy all the hard-work into further growing his company. As much as he hated the idea of settling down, it's pivotal for his standing.

Seonghwa's train of thought is broken by the glass door opening again.

"Mr. Pa-," Y/n corrects herself with a shake of her head. "Seonghwa, here. Can you check if something is missing?"

Seonghwa takes the document from her, their fingers brushing past for a second. "Yeah," he answers mindlessly. "Everything looks great," he smiles.

Y/n nods. She was saying something about an upcoming meeting, but the ceo is not listening. His eyes flickering from her eyes to her hand. Is she single? Seonghwa doesn't remember seeing someone pick her up nor a ring on her finger.

"Y/n, you seeing someone?"

The question stuns the girl for a moment, taking only a second to compose herself again. "No, Seonghwa. I'm not," she answers, voice laced with a hint of curiosity. She looked at her hand, observing. "Too busy for relationships," she laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mm, right. Just wondering."

Y/n leaves again, appointments to make, projects to look over. Seonghwa spends the morning trying to focus on his work before him. Trying.

He breathes a sigh of relief when lunch break comes around. Desperate for a coffee break, Seonghwa heads down to the cafe downstairs.

The small cafe is filled with most of his employees. They stand as he walks in, greeting him. Nodding at them, Seonghwa takes the table at the farthest corner. He needed a breather.

"And I told him, not interested, for like the third time that night!"

Looking up, its Y/n chatting with her co-workers, rambling about how she had to turn down some guy in a club. When their eyes meet, Y/n waves at him. Her voice is relatively quieter than before.

Seonghwa finds himself smiling, despite himself. Shaking his head, he orders for a coffee and some pastry.

"You should have a proper meal, you know," Y/n smiles. "Can I sit here?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," Seonghwa stands up, taking out the chair for her.

"Thanks."

"Anytime. I thought you were here with them?"

"Oh," she looked back at the table she previously sat. "Thought you could use some company. Want me to leave?"

Seonghwas shook his head. "No, no. By all means, keep me company."

The air between them suddenly feels thick. Was it the weather? Maybe it is.

"Wow, so hot," Y/n awkwardly fans herself.

"Hot indeed."

What is going on? Have the two always been so awkward? Y/n could not tell.

"Here," she started, offering him some teriyaki with chicken. "I may not be good as madame Park, but I promise it's edible."

Chuckling, he ate it. The pause he took to speak again made Y/n feel she was standing in front of Gordon Ramsey at the MasterChef's.

"This is...great," his eyes wide in surprise. "You really made it yourself?''

Y/n finally breathed, air filing her chest with a tinger of pride. "Yes. I told you, its edible."

The lunch passed quicker than Seonghwa would like. Y/n has been working for almost two years now. Was there ever a time the two took time to just...chat? With their tight schedules and busy lives, Seonghwa can't deny it feels rather good to just have someone to talk to.

As the day rolls on, Seonghwa finds himself looking forward to the times Y/n would enter his office with something else or the other. She would say something but his mind always seems to running back to one single thought.

She's single, not with someone nore seeing someone.

And for some weird reason, it makes Seonghwa...happy? He doesn't know how to put it. Was he feeling relief that she's not with someone? Yes. But if asked why, he would not be able to say. Maybe beacuse she did fit the part of the perfect career-driven woman that Seonghwa liked, or the fact that he maybe just maybe have a chance with her.

"That's all that is set for tomorrow, Seonghwa. Any changes you'd like to make?"

4:30pm. The day is about to end. "No," Seonghwa replied, feeling rather jittery. He had to take a chance. if not now, then he might not get the chance again.

"Alright. Then I'll take my leave for the day," Y/n smiled, handing him his file.

"Bye, Seonghwa-," She 's interrupted yet again.

"Do you have plans for dinner?"

She blinks a couple of times. "N-no, no I don't, actually."

"Then," Seonghwa steps out from behind his desk. "Have dinner with me."

"Oh," Y/n answered, her heart thudding loudly against its cage. "Should I go and inform the marketing team as well?"

"No," Seonghwa shakes his head, chuckling. "No, Y/n. Dinner. Just you and me. You down for it?"

Y/n nods quickly, smile reaching to her eyes. "I'd love that."

"Lets go, then," Seonghwa holds out the door for her. Brushing out her clothes, Y/n smiled.

The ride to the restaurant is filled with smiles and jokes and both of hearts beating so hard that their owners thought it might actually fall out their chests.

As the two sat there waiting for their food to be served, Seonghwa started.

"Date me, Y/n."

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

E for the ficprompt

(I'm assuming this is for Rebelcaptain/Rogue One?)

E. Signing a document.

"What do you mean, getting married?"

Jyn feels herself blush slightly, and rolls her eyes in an attempt to play it off. Force, she hadn't even really meant to tell Bodhi, it just slipped out - not that it's a secret. Well, it is. She has a very secret appointment tomorrow to go sign a triple-encrypted document to change two lines of the quadruple-encrypted, six levels of code and false leads and subterfuge deep general and medical record of a high-ranking intelligence officer and a Pathfinder with ridiculously high code-word clearance. Both the appointment and the subsequent change are, in fact, extremely, stupidly secret. But that's not really the point here. It's Bodhi.

The point is, she didn't mean to tell anyone, because they're going to make this a big deal, and it isn't, and even if it is - okay, fine, it is, maybe, a little bit - then it's only a big deal to two people on this planet and -

"I thought you are married!" Bodhi says, bewildered, roughly jerking her out of her thoughts, and saving her from having to blush even further.

"What?"

"Aren't - aren't you?"

[prefer reading on A03?]

Jyn narrows her eyes at him. Half the organics - humans especially - on base assuming they're married just because they share weapons, and a bed when it works out with their schedules and the quartermaster, is annoying enough. It's so weirdly traditional, and cliché - don't they know there's a war on? Why does everyone have this silly preoccupation with oh, what's your traditional wedding headdress? I wonder what marriage marks they will choose (Cassian's a kriffing spy, for Force's sake)? Should they not have performed a traditional Coruscanti wedding dance in the karking Rebellion hangar? (Yeah, okay, she knows why. Because there's a war on. She still thinks it's silly. Who cares about union beads when you're all likely to be evaporated by an errant Star Destroyer tomorrow?)

It's bad enough that everyone else is being trite and boring and intrusive about them - or rather, was for a year or so and then got bored of it - but for Bodhi of all people to have joined in on that is somewhat shocking, honestly.

"... No."

"Then what was that - that thing that you had to sign that Cassian lost like a week of sleep over?"

"Huh?"

"That - like, like three months after... after, there was this - this document that Cassian really wanted you to sign but was - stupidly nervous about asking? I thought -" Bodhi catches her nonplussed look and frowns a little more, clearly deeply confused now. "You - you don't even remember it? It was - He wouldn't say what it was, but he got, um, uncharacteristically drunk and told me there was this thing he wanted to ask you but it felt like - like too much, or too soon, and he didn't know how..." He stops, his frown ever deepening, then shrugs. "Looking back, I think maybe he thought I was Melshi. Or like, pretended I was. You really don't - don't remember what it was? I was so sure - it had to have been a marriage - wedding - whatever." He peers at her from underneath his worn goggles. "Is it possible you married him already and you just don't know it?"

"No."

"I've seen you sign stuff without reading it."

"Yeah, like a scandoc for incoming cargo or -"

Bodhi grins. "Frankly, I think - I think Cassian might have been desperate enough to just slip it in there."

"Very funny." She shoves him a little, mostly in a friendly way, and gets to her feet so she can glare at him better. "You know how often I've sliced into my personnel file. I would know if it said married."

Bodhi shrugs, and throws her a bright smile before returning to the machine part he was polishing. "Well, I'm happy to come to your second ceremony -"

"You're not invited, we're just putting our names on a dotted line."

"But I'm invited for drinks afterwards, yeah?"

Jyn huffs. Having friends again has its downsides.

---

"Kay? Can I ask you a question?"

"I hope this is not one of your questions that are actually requests, Jyn Erso. I had hoped to achieve a full recharge before take-off tomorrow."

"This is a question."

Kay inclines his head. "Very well."

"Bodhi says that I signed a document around three months after... after Yavin. One that Cassian was nervous about asking me to sign."

"His decisions and emotions in regards to you are often very incoherent."

She sighs. "Something important, I guess? I don't remember what it could have been. Any ideas?"

Kay's processors whir in a way that is oddly close to an exasperated sigh. How he achieves this with his updated body is a mystery to Jyn. She asked Cassian once, and he just shrugged.

"Requisition for a new pair of trousers, Standard Size medium, male bipedal, from the quatermaster due to your destroying Sergeant Dameron's in a regular sparring match?"

"... Probably not that."

"Written agreement to cease standing outside of General Draven's quarters and yelling until he comes out?"

"No."

"I do not think that should still be on file. You are clearly no longer adhering to it."

"Kay."

"Oh. There was also your code clearance paperwork."

Jyn, already half turned away, freezes. The code clearance. Granting access to most of Cassian's past operation files. A record of every dutiful, improbable, repugnant, brave thing he has done under orders. Every drop of blood on his hands, neatly filed, at her disposal.

Yeah.

She sighs, digging her finger into the crumbling stone of the droid bay wall. Yeah, that'd do it. Actually, she's shocked she hasn't looked at it this way before. She assumed it was a formality, a boring, procedural afterthought for him, but...

A koja-nut-sized chunk of mortar comes away under her prying fingers and crumbles to dust. It was a foolish assumption. Cassian is made of equal parts dedication and guilt, and this was a choice that could not have come lightly to either of those sides.

"Thanks, Kay."

"Was it that one?"

She wonders, briefly, if the information would help Kay compute Cassian's behaviour any better. But she also thinks he likes that Kay is bad at computing his behaviour - at least where she is concerned. Come to think of it, she probably also prefers that. Vastly, even. (There was that time he predicted time and duration of their "inefficient organic bonding rituals" much too accurately, and she does not want that repeated, or ever have to think about that again.)

"I guess I'll just ask Cassian."

"So I could have used this time for charging."

She rolls her eyes at him and taps the door frame in place of goodbye. "I'll see you on the ship. Don't let the outlet bugs bite."

"That is complete nonsense -"

---

"Bodhi thought we were already married," she mutters into the darkness, an hour or so later.

"Most people seem to."

"Yeah. Got me thinking, though," she says, running her hand up his neck to bury her fingers in his hair without accidentally poking him in the eye (she learned that lesson early in life, back when she was creeping into people's bunks in a barracks instead of enjoying the rare perks of sleeping with a ranking officer; back when staying quiet had been a primary concern).

He hums at her touch, so low she thinks she's only catching it because it's so dark and her senses heightened. This is the one upside of the quarters having no windows, and the dimmer being so unreliable it tends to throw out the breakers.

"Thinking what?"

"I guess we kind of are, in a way."

"Are we?" he asks, and he sounds like he's smiling.

"Yeah. You read my file. I'm cleared for yours." She lets her other hand roam over his chest, up to where she can feel his heartbeat, slightly too fast under her fingers. "I figure, that's spy marriage, right?"

"Maybe." His pulse is still a little fast, his muscles a little tense under her fingers, when he asks slowly: "Did you ever read them?"

"Most of them. It's a lot."

"Yes. A lot," he repeats, and she is pretty sure he doesn't mean what she does - namely, that his reports are both very dense and very detailed, so they are a painful thing to go through in more ways than one. She can feel him swallow heavily before adding, somewhat lamely and very quietly: "... and?"

She sighs, threading her fingers through his hair a little more tightly. "Well, I know not to get you Naboo Orange lemonade."

He doesn't flinch, but she can tell that it takes effort.

"Did you really think that'd be the thing to scare me off? Your files?" she asks after a while, and he shrugs.

"There was a chance. It's... a lot."

She sighs and curls herself closer to his side. "I'm not saying it wasn't a big deal for me, you know. But you've got it wrong."

"Got what wrong?" His voice has softened, and as he shifts her leg into position, he somehow finds a way to tug her a little closer still, and leaves his hand where it is, warm on her bare skin. She smiles faintly into the fabric of his shirt.

"It's... It made me stay," she whispers, and it feels silly to say, but maybe the lesson of the day is that they don't get to assume things, because they do miss stuff. Even with each other. "That you... that you made them give me that. That you trusted me."

He doesn't answer, but she feels his lips brush the top of her head.

"Well," he says finally, "I know it's a formality, but... I'm looking forward to being normal married."

"Seems less complicated."

He laughs softly, his thumb running idle circles over her thigh. "We'll see."

[leave a comment on Ao3]

[airybcby]

it’s for the married couple event :D

isagi + 🍉 + 🍭

have a great day 🫶

i hope you have a great day too!

an isagi yoichi watermelon sucker

જ⁀♡⊹｡° a dwindling , mercurial high

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!

♡ content — isagi yoichi x gn! reader, gn! reader, tried to make it as gn as possible but if you see a she/he in there referring to the reader pls lmk!, fake dating, kinda unrequited love, isagi still plays soccer, set in a high school, reader's had a crush on yoichi for a while

♡ synopsis — the plan was to get through this simulation as smoothly as possible, but when you're paired with isagi yoichi, that won't happen.

The marriage simulation program wasn’t just a quirky school experiment to teach life skills—it was a competitive test of teamwork, resourcefulness, and communication. And when your name was paired with Isagi Yoichi’s, the school’s friendly, hardworking soccer star, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Guess we make a good team, huh?” Yoichi grinned, holding up the assignment sheet with both of your names highlighted.

“Sure,” you said with a forced smile, your stomach twisting. Teamwork wasn’t the issue. Yoichi was great—kind, dependable, and endlessly encouraging. The problem was your not-so-tiny, not-so-manageable crush on him, something you’d buried for years.

And now, living with him for a month? Pretending to be married? It felt like walking a tightrope over your feelings.

The first week was easy enough. Yoichi, ever the optimist, took the tasks seriously: planning “dates” for extra credit, cooking dinner together, and even budgeting for pretend household expenses. You played along, keeping a safe emotional distance while fulfilling every assignment.

But things took a sharp turn when Yoichi came up with his next brilliant idea.

“People are talking about us,” he said one afternoon, scrolling through his phone.

“Talking about what?”

He turned the screen toward you, showing a string of group chat messages.

— Isagi and Y/N look so natural together. Are they really a couple? —They were holding hands yesterday during the task. Maybe it’s real?

Your face grew warm as you looked back at him. “We were holding hands because this stupid test required it!”

Yoichi scratched the back of his head, his sheepish grin doing nothing to calm your nerves. “Yeah, but… people are going to keep asking. And, well, if we tell them we’re actually together, it might stop the rumors.”

You stared at him, stunned. “You want us to tell people we're dating? You want us to fake date?”

“Just until the simulation ends,” he said quickly., as if he couldn't get the words out of his mouth fast enough. “It’s not like it’d be that different from what we’re already doing, right?”

His logic was infuriatingly sound, but it still felt dangerous—like inviting trouble into a house already on fire. Against your better judgment, you nodded. “Fine. But this stays between us.”

“Deal.”

The fake dating went almost too well.

Yoichi was good at playing the doting partner, maybe too good. He’d drape an arm around your shoulders during group outings, laugh at your jokes like they were the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and casually call you nicknames that sent your heart racing.

But when it was just the two of you, the act faded into something quieter, something closer to real. Like when he’d sit next to you during dinner, asking about your day with genuine interest. Or when he’d stay up late helping you with assignments, his focus unwavering.

You told yourself it was just for the simulation. Just part of the act. But deep down, you knew you were falling deeper than ever.

Things hit a breaking point during one of the simulation’s final tasks: a “couples’ interview,” where pairs had to answer questions about each other to test their “compatibility.”

“What’s Yoichi’s biggest dream?” the interviewer asked, her pen poised over her clipboard.

“To become a professional soccer player,” you said without hesitation. “He’s been working toward it for as long as I’ve known him.”

You were grateful for the easy question, everyone knew that about Isagi. Yes, you knew almost everything that had been asked so far too, but you assumed it was basic knowledge to know these things about your partner. (it's not, half of the other groups couldn't answer these questions.)

Yoichi’s eyes widened slightly before he smiled, his expression softening. “Yeah, that’s right. And Y/N's dream is to travel the world someday. They're always talking about all the places they want to see.”

Your chest tightened. You mentioned that once in passing, while the two of you were watching a nature documentary.

You hadn’t expected him to remember.

The interviewer beamed. “You two really know each other well.”

You forced a smile, but the weight of his words lingered long after the interview ended.

As the simulation neared its end, the line between fake and real blurred beyond recognition.

“I think we’ve got the highest score in the class,” Yoichi said one night, leaning against the counter while you washed dishes.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter than usual.

He noticed, of course. Yoichi always noticed. “Hey, are you okay?”

You hesitated, your hands stilling under the faucet. “What happens when this is over?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… us. The fake dating. Do we just go back to normal?”

Yoichi’s smile faltered. He looked down at the floor, his usual confidence replaced by uncertainty. “I guess so. That’s what we agreed on, right?”

Your heart ached at his words, even though you’d expected them. “Yeah. Right.”

What did you expect? Isagi Yoichi wasn't the type of person to fall for you.

You were just foolish.

The final day of the simulation arrived, and the apartment felt emptier than ever as you packed your things. Yoichi was unusually quiet, his movements slower than usual as he folded his clothes into his suitcase.

“So… this is it,” you said, forcing a smile.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice soft. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Good luck with soccer,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know you’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” he said, his smile faint. “And I hope you get to see all those places you’ve always dreamed about.”

For a moment, it felt like there was something hanging in the air between you—something fragile and unfinished. But before either of you could speak, the program coordinator knocked on the door, signaling the official end of the simulation.

Yoichi grabbed his suitcase and walked to the door, hesitating briefly before turning back to you. “See you around, Y/N.”

“See you,” you whispered.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you with an empty apartment and a heart full of questions that would never have answers.

fake dating isagi...yes pls

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[writing-appreciation]

Vassago Headcannons because because I am feral for Vassago content

To start, I want to say I believe Stolas, Vass, and Stella are all the same age.

Andre is a couple years older than Stella.

In my mind, hell's aristocracy has like an annual/semi-annual/semi-centeninal event in which children who are coming of age are formally presented into society.

Maybe they get their full powers, maybe they are presented to Lucifer and Lilith. Maybe they are arranged to marry.

But one thing is always the same, two Demons are always chosen, one male and one female.

These two are basically hells it Demons of the event.

Maybe they even get titles in their own right instead of having their parent's title(s).

It's not expected for these two Demons to be married, but some cases to lead to happy marriages.

Or marriages of convenience. Which is where Vassago comes in.

While he isn't named the male demon at this event, he is an only child, a prince by birth right, he's already considered quite the catch in every social circle.

So of course many many many nobles, varying in ranks, are trying to see if the young, newly of age, Prince is looking for a princess.

From a young age, his parents promised him that the choice of marriage is entirely up to him. Any demon he meets and becomes enamored with. The only thing they ask is that, eventually, an heir is brought into the family.

Of course, only a very select few know he actually prefers the company of men.

Which does complicate the whole heir thing.

Enter his best friend. She's also a Goetia, dashingly charming, intellectual, kind, and even beautiful.

She's the oldest child of some terribly distant arranged marriage. Great family. Just not the most social hell family.

Her father is a Duke. So she is only a Lady, but that does change at this event.

She was crowned the demoness of the event. With this comes a title of her own, legions to command, a palace, so much more.

She is shot to the top of the social scene.

Much to Stella's horror, as she was always predicted to be crowned at this event. Even as a hatchling.

"Hey, you needed a break from inside too, Princressa Nueva?" He jokes.

" Vass, there's has to be some type of mistake. I do not belong on the forefront of society. Do you think I can kindly reject it??"

"Hah, I'm sorry Vivi (his nickname for her), I don't think that's an option. Though, it might make Stella happy."

They laugh together on the balcony, wine, beginning to cloud their judgement.

"I'm scared. I don't want to be a Princess. I especially don't want to be forced to marry some power hungry SOB who will try to tell me how things should be done. I saw my parents talking to Andrealphus and his parents. I would rather throw myself into the streets of Greed than marry that pretentious prick." She will grumpily throw herself to the bench.

A metaphorical light bulb goes off in Vassago's head.

"Marry me then."

He can't tell if it's the wine, or the excitement of an answer to his own problem that makes him say those three words.

She looks up at the friend she's known her whole life, confused, a little mad, but mostly intrigued. "Do you want to explain orr??"

"Well, I'm a Prince already. I'm not a power hungry SOB to worry about. I'm also currently dodging marriage proposals since coming of age. Y, puedo cocinar tus comidas favoritas. (And I can cook your favorite foods)."

She continues to look at him, conflicted. He is the best possible circumstance. He's always been nice to her and her family.

"We're going to be obligated to convince an heir at some point. I don't want you to have to do something you don't want to do." She quietly says.

He looks away. He has always found himself attracted to men. She was actually the first friend he told about this. She was compassionate, heard him out. They would compare crushes they had. This bonded them closer.

And he would be lying if he said he hadn't considered the possibility before. If there was any woman he could think about being married to, it would be her.

"One heir is all we need. After that, I'm sure we could come up with some type of mutually beneficial agreement, no?" He now sits next to her on the bench.

The rest was history. They got married the following year, and within the same year, they welcomed their son into hell. The same year Octavia was.

From there, they were able to come to their agreement:

At least 4 weekly family dinners, though they did often eat together more.

Monthly dinners with both his and hers parents to make sure everything looked normal.

They had to attend one monthly public royal affair. Could be any of them, but they must be seen in public together.

Secrecy is key. Tell nobody about the other one's adventures.

Vassago can bring his partners home anytime.

She can bring her partners home anytime.

If either she or he had an issue, or a gut feeling about the other's choice in partner, the partner was asked to leave. No questions. They trusted each other.

Their staff was hand selected to uphold their very strict discretion.

In regards to their son, they are equals. Not one parent has more say than the other.

If either of them want out of this agreement, it ends. No hard feelings.

[illyrianbrat]

Prisoner (Part 2)

Set: Middle of season 1 to beginning of season 2

Pairing: (kind of) Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon female!reader, (platonic) overprotective!Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon female!reader

Warnings: typical westori violence, curse words/spoilers for both seasons but especially season 2, everyone being absolutely stupid, conversations about characters that were offed, major character death, talks of forced marriage, being made prisoner, bruises, scrapes, minor talk about weight and not eating

Plot: One of Viserys Targaryen’s final wishes was to see them married. To please him, Rhaenyra allowed her daughter to stay in the Red Keep alone, not knowing it would be a terrible mistake.

Part 1

"The Crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the Crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly." Viserys stood at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over his family. "For this reason, I would also like to propose a marriage between Aemond and the princess."

Your ears began ringing, not being able to hear what Rhaenyra or Alicent were saying. Your eyes found Aemond's, who wore a sly smirk. Marry? Him? You could feel your family's stares, waiting for an answer. Daemon squeezed your hand in comfort.

Knowing there was nothing he could do or say in this situation, Jace got up and invited Helaena to dance, to Aegon’s dismay, while Luke chatted with Baela and Rhaena.

Aemond sat there, staring at his future wife. He sensed you were displeased by the news, but he did not know what he felt. He had never expressed his true feelings to anyone, but Aemond had been interested in you when you were children. He suppressed those feelings after losing his eye, convinced you now hated him. What he didn't know was that you did harbor resentment toward him, especially after hearing how he spoke to your brothers that night and his attempt to harm Jace.

He banged the table before standing up. "A final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... strong," Aemond spoke, barely suppressing a smirk. "Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys. And to my soon-to-be Strong wife."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace warned him, fists clenched.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Don't you consider yourself Strong?"

Jace punched Aemond, who retaliated by shoving him to the ground. Meanwhile, Aegon pinned Luke down on the table. You stood up, defiantly facing your future husband. With a low chuckle, you raised your hand and slapped him. Before you could say another word or raise your hand again, Daemon grabbed your forearm.

"Why would you say such a thing in front of everyone?" Alicent reprimanded, clearly embarrassed.

"I was merely expressing my pride in my family, Mother," Aemond replied casually. "Though it seems my nephews and niece aren't quite as proud of theirs."

"Wait, wait!" Daemon interjected, raising a cautionary finger toward his children.

"Go to your quarters. All of you, now," Rhaenyra commanded, and they obeyed, not wanting to escalate the situation further. "It's best if we return to Dragonstone," she told Alicent firmly.

"You've only just arrived," Alicent murmured, rubbing Rhaenyra's wrist. "Besides, Helaena wanted to share some things with the princess."

Rhaenyra sighed. "Let me escort the children home. I'll return on dragonback."

---

"My darling," Rhaenyra lamented as you embraced her. "We're going back to Dragonstone. You're to stay here."

"What?" You stuttered, pulling away. "Why?"

"Queen Alicent says Helaena wants to spend time with you. I'll take the children home and come back soon. It'll be alright," Rhaenyra reassured, caressing your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"No," you pleaded. "Let me come with you."

Rhaenyra hugged you again, holding you close. A worried feeling crept over her. You sat together on the bed, with you clinging to your mother, not wanting to let go. Rhaenyra stayed with you, gently playing with your hair and humming lullabies.

Hours later, after Rhaenyra retired to her quarters, you paced with fists clenched. The events of the day weighed heavily on your mind, especially your betrothal to Aemond.

“Dear wife, are you still thinking about that?” You flinched, turning around. Aemond stood inside your chambers, holding a small box in his hand.

“How dare you come in here after what you said during supper,” you retorted sharply.

“It was only a harmless compliment, no need to make a fuss,” Aemond replied dismissively, ignoring your anger. You scoffed at his audacity. “I wanted to speak to you.”

“Get out, now,” you ordered, but instead of leaving, Aemond swiftly approached you. “Get out!”

“This is for you,” Aemond said casually, opening the box to reveal a ring adorned with rubies, made from Valyrian steel. "I’ve always planned to give you this since we were children. Deep down, I knew the King always wished for us to be married.”

You were bewildered, unsure of his intentions. “What is it you truly want? For me to forget how you, Aegon, and the rest of your family treated mine? How you almost bashed Jace’s head with a rock?”

Aemond merely hummed, slipping the ring onto your finger despite your attempts to pull away. “It suits you.”

You stood in tense silence, locking eyes. After what felt like an eternity, Aemond left the quarters, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You glanced down at the ring on your finger, twiddling it nervously.

---

You woke to daylight streaming into your room. As you prepared to meet with Helaena, you tried to open the door, only to find it locked. Confused, you pulled at it again and knocked loudly, expecting the guard to correct the mistake. “Ser? The door is locked!”

“I cannot let you out, princess,” a knight’s voice came from the other side.

“Why not?” you asked, growing annoyed. “Open the door.”

“You are to remain in your quarters until further notice. This is King Aegon’s order.”

Your eyes widened. “King Aegon?”

The knight did not respond, indifferent to the banging on the door.

You had not seen anyone all day, only a maid who brought you meals and quickly exited the quarters.

It was late, and the absence of the moon made the air feel thick, almost suffocating. "Lucerys is dead," Alicent informed you, her tone dry and lacking sympathy. “It happened last night, above Storm’s End.”

You remained still, though you felt your body shaking as tears filled your eyes. As soon as Alicent exited, your knees buckled. You wept, Lucerys Velaryon was gone.

Your sobs echoed through the Red Keep.

Queen Alicent began to worry about the possible consequences, fearing that Rhaenyra would retaliate for the throne and the death of her son. She also worried because you were refusing to eat, lying in your bed, and crying yourself to sleep.

Aemond hadn't visited you either.

It felt as if they had forgotten about you.

Part 3

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 3)

Contains: forced marriage, non-con, smut, sexual assault, angst, crying, oral (f receiving), kissing, touching, dirty talk, degradation, manipulation, incest, highly abusive and problematic behaviour

Read with caution!

Wordcount: ~4.56k

Masterlist of this story

Maera was wakened by the noise to her right and needed a moment to remember where she was.

Memories from last night came back to her and fear spread throughout her body. Her father would surely know about her absence soon. Would he be angry? But Daemon had told her that he knew that she was with his brother so perhaps he knew her to be safe.

Maera looked to her right and saw Daemon getting up from the bed and putting on his clothes. She yawned loudly and leaned back against the headboard.

"Are we going back soon, uncle?" the girl asked him and he glanced at her.

"First I want to show you something."

She curiously furrowed her forehead but got off the bed as well to once again cover herself with the cloak.

"Here at dragonstone or somewhere else?"

Daemon cheekily smirked at her and took her hand.

"Patience, love. Just come with me and you'll see."

Maera truly was confused and a little anxious as well but she chose to trust her uncle and took the hand he was offering her. The prince led her out of her room and then through the castle. Knights guarded the entrances and bowed their heads when Daemon and her passed and servants hasted along the corridors who Maera observed curiously.

Her uncle guided her out of the castle and then on a path around the walls until they arrived in a little garden. There were a few men standing next to another who sat on a rock but when they noticed the advancing towards them he stood up at once and everyone bowed their heads.

Maera frowned because the man who had previously sat was dressed like a septon and the girl wondered why Daemon had led her here. Another man among the group she could identify as a maester and there were also some knights and lords she knew distantly. Maera pulled at the sleeve of Daemon's tunic and looked up to him to find his gaze.

"What is this, uncle?" she whispered but he ignored her and just watched the scene.

The girl was clearly scared now and shook her uncle's arm.

"Daemon. What are we doing?"

They stood in front of the group of men now and the prince finally looked at his niece who examined the knights fearfully.

"You, sweet niece, are going to be my wife."

Her jaw dropped and her eyes got big like coins as she instinctively took a step back.

"What?" she pressed and Daemon quickly reached out to take her arm.

"It's alright. Don't be scared, sweetling. We will be man and wife, there is nothing fearful about that."

But Maera's face had gotten pale and her shivering hands enclosed around her uncle's hand that had wrapped around her upper arm.

"B-But no. We can't. My father – "

"Your father will have to live with it. Once we're married there's nothing he can do about it."

Maera's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip started to quiver with anxiety.

"No uncle, I can't. Please, my father doesn't approve of this and I can't – "

"You can't disobey your father? Aren't you a good little girl, always doing as you're told. I know you will obey me perfectly, just as you always have."

She squirmed in his grip and the knights exchanged a brief look.

"Right now you're not a good girl though," Daemon growled and his hand around her arm tightened. "You think you're the first unwilling bride? You're gonna do as you're told just like so many other maidens had to. I don't care if you want this or not, you're gonna be obedient and do as I order you."

Now tears ran down his niece's cheeks and she felt as though her world was breaking apart. Daemon, her loved and admired uncle had manipulated her like that and now wanted to marry her? She couldn't let this happen, never. Her father wasn't there, her brother as well and most importantly, Viserys hadn't given them permission. She couldn't marry him now, she was to wed a lord of her father's choice.

Panick and fear filled her body and she desperately tried to free herself from Daemon's grip around her arm.

"Please uncle, no. Please, I-I can't do this. I can't return married, my father would – "

"I don't care what your father will do."

Maera tried to fight him off but she clearly didn't stand a chance.

"Please, I don't want this."

But Daemon gave her an evil smile.

"You remember that you came here with me willingly. And furthermore you slept in the same bed with me."

His voice got very quiet now and his mouth came close to her ear.

"You know what the servants think, don't you? You are a smart little girl, use your brains and act wisely. They think that I have taken your innocence. That I have ruined you for any other man and claimed your maidenhead. Your reputation is destroyed and no other man will ever wed you. The only thing that can restore your virtue is for me to take you as my lawful wife which I'll gladly do."

Maera was a mess by now, tears coating her skin and she couldn't even see clearly by the amount of wetness blocking her view.

"B-But my father…. He wants me to wed Ser Brandeth… I – I"

Daemon interrupted her by grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back.

"Brandeth Lannister is dead, sweetling. A pity, honestly," he chuckled. "He was a good man. His only mistake was asking your father for your hand."

Maera shivered and was petrified while glaring up to him. "W-What? You… What?"

But instead of answering he shoved the girl forwards, bringing the two of them closer to the waiting group.

"P-Please," was all she whimpered, but her uncle was cold and hard in his expression. Suddenly the septon cleared his throat.

"My Prince. Is this… I mean can we proceed with the ceremony or… is there any problem?"

Daemon answered him without turning around so his gaze was still fixed on Maera.

"No, there isn't a problem at all, Hugar," he said with grinded teeth. "My niece simply needs a moment to prepare herself. Her wedding is a special day for a girl after all."

The septon nodded though still looking a little uncomfortable and Maera sniffed while her uncle lowered his head to her ear once again.

"Will you behave yourself now? Will you be obedient just like I've taught you as a little child and stand in front of the septon willingly? Or do I have to make you?"

All she could do was shake her head and her uncle forcefully grabbed her chin.

"Do you want me to fucking ruin you, little one? Mhm? Do you want me to breed your maiden body until you're swollen with my child and everyone gets to see that you belong to me? Your father, your brother your little friends? I'm gonna do it and I'm gonna do it over and over again and make you swollen with my children."

He let go off her chin so her head dropped and she stared at the ground. She didn't reply or said anything else, too frightened of his last words so Daemon took that as a sign that Maera had broken and he dragged her towards the septon.

Everything felt surreal and blurry to the girl but she didn't dare open her mouth again and stood in front of the septon with her head bowed and her body shivering with fear and desperation.

"She is ready now," Maera heard her uncle speak but it sounded as if it was far away and she anxiously pressed her lips together like she was afraid a sound could escape her mouth if she didn't do it.

Maera barely understood what was happening and couldn't even hear the words that the septon and Daemon spoke. Only when her uncle turned to her and lifted her chin did she blink a few times and stared at Daemon.

"Say it," he growled and she knew what he asked of her.

Her septa had taught her about the marriage ceremony and everything that came with it. Gods, if only she was here now. If only anyone was here right now to stop this and stop Daemon and bring her back to King's –

"Say it, Maera," Daemon repeated all of a sudden and she couldn't surpress a cry leaving her body. She wanted to lower her head and sink into the ground but her uncle still had his hand around her chin and forced her to look up to the septon.

"Iksan zȳhon s-se issa ñ-ñuhon. H-Hen bisa t-tubis, ēva s-se mōris hen ñ-ñuha t-tubissa," (I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days) she stuttered so that it was barely comprehensible but it seemingly was enough for both the septon and Daemon.

And then it was finished and Hugar said the last words to seal this marriage. Maera's head had dropped again but this time her uncle didn't say anything. The septon bowed in front of the freshly wed couple and then left while the gathered knights and other people she didn't know congratulated them.

Maera didn't care about acting rudely or anything else, her eyes were pressed together, tears rolled down her face and her fingernails dug into the skin of her own hand. She had lost the feeling for the passing time because then there wasn't anyone left in this ugly cold garden except Daemon and her.

By now there weren't any tears left to cry and Maera sniffed while watching a spider crawl through the mud on the ground. She had her hands pressed to her body and stood hunched over and twitched when she felt Daemon grab her arm.

"There will be a feast now, little girl. Don't be frightened, you know that I only want what's best for you."

All the way through the feast Maera sat with her hands tightly gripping the edge of the table saying only the minimum of what she had to. Daemon was leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed and a cup of wine in his hand. There obviously weren't a lot of people at the celebrations and yet it felt like a feast, which stretched from the noon until the evening with knights and old friends of Daemon laughing and singing and dancing.

One by one did they step in front of the couple to express their congratulations which her uncle accepted with a nod of his head while Maera was frozen and couldn't even raise her gaze. A coldness had spread in her body that made her unable to move or to speak and everything felt like a mere nightmare.

Daemon was ever at her side ignoring her aside from a few strokes over her thigh. Maera didn't even feel bored because she was numb and in shock and couldn't perceive the time passing until it was evening and the rogue prince decided that it was time to consume the marriage. So he straightened up in his chair and put a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Come sweet girl. We must do our duty as man and wife now."

Maera had twitched and pressed her lips tightly together.

"Come on. I don't want to drag you."

And so, knowing well that she didn't have a choice anyway, she didn't fight when her uncle pulled her up by her arm and guided her through the hall in which the feast took place. Some of the knights were cheering and tapped on the wooden tables in celebration and then when the door closed behind them Maera found herself in the dark corridor feeling overwhelmed by the sudden silence.

It was only her and Daemon now, the person that she had once loved unconditionally but now scared her so much that she flinched at each of his movements. Without saying a word he led her up to the room that they had sleeped in last night. If only she had known what would happen when she had left it in the morrow, Maera thought. If only she had known yesterday when Daemon had woken her in the middle of the night. Tears filled her eyes again. She was scared of what would happen when word reached her father and scared of what would happen now in their chamber when Daemon would claim her maidenhead.

He opened the door for her so she could enter the room and then closed it behind her. Maera felt odd standing so awkwardly in the middle of the room and closed her eyes trying to calm herself. But then her uncle approached her from behind and rested a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't help but let out a sob and felt tears leaving the corner of her eyes.

"Shhh, sweet girl," her uncle whispered against her ear and soothingly caressed her arm.

But she shook her head and squirmed in his arms in a desperate attempt to somehow magically make him leave her alone. But his cold hands held her tightly and now he additionally wrapped an arm around her waist.

"No, Maera. Don't fight me. I'll make this as easy for you as possible if you give in. Just let me take care of you and you're gonna be fine."

But the girl cried out and turned her head relentlessly which made her uncle growl and he shoved her towards the bed. Head first she was pushed on the bed and immediately moved to sit on the edge when Daemon let go of her to take off his shirt and tunic. Maera anxiously watched him and then after he had revealed his muscular chest Daemon's eyes flashed at her and his hand reached out to run over her hair.

"Maera. You know that you can trust me. You know that I love you very very much. I will be gentle with you and prepare you for me. But it's hard when you try and fight me, little one."

She was pouty, defiant and couldn't bare looking in his eyes. And yet Daemon took it as a sign to go further and took another step towards his sobbing niece. He held the side of her face and leaned down to kiss her.

Maera's lip were stiff and cold and she refused to kiss him back but Daemon didn't care and just devoured her taste and the softness of her lips. Then he pushed her back signalizing her to lay down but Maera refused so her uncle pulled away and caressed her cheek looking softer and warmer in his face now.

"Lay down, sweetling. I'll make you feel good, I promise."

But the girl tensed her face and pleadingly looked up to him.

"Please uncle. Please, don't."

He almost offered her pity in his expression though gently pressing her back.

"It's gonna be fine. Go on. Lay down."

Her eyes produced more tears but Maera couldn't fight him as his hands pushed her back by her shoulders until she laid on the bed. Daemon crawled on top of her at once to press her down with the weight of his body and he cooed her.

"Shh, little doll. Don't cry. There's no need to cry, your uncle's gonna take good care of you."

His mouth leaned forwards to kiss her lips again while his hands held the side of the girl's neck and her waist. Maera shifted relentlessly underneath him but she didn't stand a chance against the strong warrior and was forced to feel his hands on her body.

Then he attempted to take off her cloak and night gown that she still wore but soon figured that he wouldn't be able to undress her without hurting her so Daemon simply ripped the fabric of the cloak and then tore it off her body until only the thin night dress covered her pretty body. He ended the kiss, his eyes wandered down her curves and he bit his lip as he watched her hardened nipples looming from under the gown. His finger swiftly ran over the bud and Maera squirmed trying to get away from him.

"Please Daemon, please… I'm scared," she whined and tried to cover her breasts with her hands. But Daemon determindely grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms to the sides of her body.

"There's no reason for you to be scared, Maera. You know that you're important to me and I promise you, as your husband I'll keep you safe. Just stop fighting me, do you understand me? This only makes it more difficult."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then his hands cupped her breasts which made Maera squeeze her eyes. All she could think about was how bad all of this was and how angry everyone would be. And she couldn't help but feel frightened of her uncle because these past hours had fueled a fear inside of her that hadn't been there before. She wanted to leave this wicked place, get back home to her father and forget everything about this terrible nightmare that wasn't one but her reality from now on.

Daemon softly massaged her breasts and his thumb ran over the girl's nipple. His eyes watched the motion and Maera's lip trembled as he rubbed over the bud.

"It's fine, my sweet girl. I'll be gentle. Just give in."

He lowered his head to kiss at the swell of her breast while ignoring his niece's whimpering. Daemon took her nipples between his lips to suck and stimulate them with his tongue. He let out a satisfied growl that sent shivers down Maera's spine. She felt scared of what this man she had once thought to know that well was capable of doing to her.

And then he was done with devouring her chest and crawled further up again. His piercing darkened eyes were in her sight again and made her turn her head in order to escape Daemon's gaze but he quickly dug his fingers in the girl's chin to turn her towards him and their eyes could interlock. Tears had soaked Maera's cheeks, her face was reddened and her eyes swollen so her uncle gently stroke her skin.

"Oh, little kitten. Don't cry, it will be fine."

But she winded underneath him and he sighed, sounding genuinely disappointed.

"Spread your legs," Daemon said and if the situation had been any different Maera would've found her uncle's voice to sound incredibly soft and gentle. But not like this. Not with him pinning her down and his hands all over her body touching those areas that had meant to be touched for the first time by her husband who most definitely hadn't been supposed to be Daemon.

So she tilted her head and pressed her thighs together trying anything to prevent him from getting there. A part of Maera was so desperate and tired of everything that she thought about just giving up and letting him do with her as he wanted. He had already wed her, he had her captured at dragonstone with her father miles away so what were her chances? There was nothing she could do anyway but at the same time she just couldn't give her maidenhead to him willingly. But Maera was too scared and disgusted and she couldn't help but think about her father and the rest of her family all the time. What if they would abondon or exile her once they found out about this?

So she continued to fight and kicked him with her feet as he tried to get his hand between her legs. Daemon pressed her hips into the bed though and quickly managed to hold her down while shoving his hand between her thighs. Then it was only a matter of time until he had forcefully opened them and his hand cupped her sex.

Maera let out a whimper and closed her eyes feeling too ashamed of what was happening but her uncle soothingly caressed her naked thigh with his other hand.

"I will make you feel good, Maera. Just don't fight me. I know you're gonna like it and I simply need you to allow yourself to feel the pleasure."

And then she felt him running a finger through her dry folds. It felt so odd and unusual but then his fingertip stopped at a spot above her hole. Instinctively Maera shrieked out because she experienced something she had never before. It was as though someone would scratch at a spot that had been itchy for the last hours and she felt her breathing hastening.

Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Daemon and he smiled as he pressed his finger into her pearl, enough to make her squeeze her eyes but not too much so it would feel uncomfortable. Then he started to circle that very bundle of nerves and Maera turned her head to the side. Gods, she hated this so much because why did it feel so good? It wasn't supposed to feel good. Daemon was the one doing it, seven hells, he was the enemy. And as much as she despised the rogue prince at the moment her body reacted to his touch and there was nothing she could do about it. It was as if her body had its own mind.

His left hand held her hips while his right relentlessly drew patterns over her pearl and now and then slided through her slit to gather her wetness and faciliate his movement. In the meantime he kissed her neck and breats every once in a while and by now Maera's tears had even stopped and instead little hiccups left her mouth. She let out a moan which Daemon commented with a smirk and he went faster over her nub.

"I know you like that, little one. Come on, let me hear you."

Maera wanted so surpress these sounds threatening to leave her mouth so badly but it was nearly impossible. He forced her to feel pleasure from his touch and it drove her so mad that she wanted to bite and hit him. And then the way he talked to her, so lovingly as though he hadn't just wed her against her will and now didn't intend to forcefully claim her maidenhead.

Daemon's hand slowed down now and she feared what he would do next so Maera looked up to him with big eyes and hoped that there was anything left inside her uncle that might soften at her pleas. But she was wrong of course.

Daemon kissed her mouth, or better sucked and nibbled at her lips while she laid stiff and then crawled down until he laid between her legs. Maera was overwhelmed and anxious not knowing what to expect so she whimpered and tried to close her legs around him. But he had already positioned himself between them and now widened them with his underarms.

"I'm gonna devour your sweet cunt now, Maera. I just know that you'll taste heavenly."

Once again tears welled in her eyes and she weakly tried to push his hands away from her but deep down knew that the fight was almost lost. In response he just grabbed her wrists and pressed aggressive kisses on her skin.

"You're my wife now, you understand that? I get to take you whenever I want from now on. No matter if I want to fuck your little hole or taste you or take your mouth, you're to obey me and give your body to me."

That made Maera cry out and sensing that Daemon had scared her perhaps a little too much, he sighed out and soothingly ran his hands over her belly and hips.

"Ohhh sweet girl. Come on now. It won't be too bad. I'll take care of you, always. You know that I can make you feel good and I will do that whenever I can, little girl."

He had whispered these last words and his mouth traced the back of her hand.

"Just give in, love. Don't fight me and don't pout at me. Just feel my touch and allow yourself to enjoy it, I know you do. I have no desire in hurting you. I'm sorry if I scared you, that's not what I want."

She sniffed a few times but no new tears formed in her eyes. Maera didn't try to push him away as he spread her legs wider and took a look at her cunt but just watched him with an anxious expression. Her uncle crawled further south until he was on the same level as her glistening cunt that made him smile satisfiedly.

"I know you liked it. I will make you like it even more now. I just need you to obey me and I know you can do that. Don't you remember how well you used to take my orders, little kitten? How well you can follow my lead?"

She didn't answer to that and turned her head to avoid his piercing gaze that made her want to vanish in the ground beneath her. The next thing she felt was how Daemon licked a stripe from her hole up to her pearl to lap up her wetness and he hummed at the taste.

"Ohh gods be good. So sweet."

Maera's lower lip trembled and she was torn between enduring it and just lying stiff while trying her best to ignore him and fighting back. She wanted to fight and make him stop, prevent this catastrophe from happening but the girl was so exhausted and fearful of her uncle that she couldn't bring herself to try and escape.

Her mind and body were tired and though she was disgusted and would have continued to cry if there were any tears left, she layed still while Daemon took her bundle of nerves between his lips to softly suck at it and toy with it with his tongue. He intended to make his niece finish so she was soaked with her arousal and it would be easier to claim her maidenhead.

Additionally it was an attempt to get her to be a little softer perhaps because Daemon thought that once she had released she might be more tamed and calm. So he drew fast circled around her pearl, pressed into the spot and watched her for her reaction. He wanted to find out what she especially enjoyed to answer to her needs. Because though he did what he wanted to do and reflected his behaviour enough to know that he had ignored what she wanted these past minutes, right now Daemon's focus was to make her give in.

Maera actually couldn't hide her pleasure and bit her lower lip to muffle her moans. Why did it have to feel so good? Why did he know what to do to make her like it? Maera hated him so much for it but with every passing minute her desire and need for more grew and soon the girl grabbed the bed sheets while squeezing her eyes in ecstasy.

"Mhmmm," she quietly whimpered and pressed her legs together around his head though this time it wasn't mainly to make him stop but rather to relieve herself from the tension between her thighs.

"Yes my little pet," her uncle purred while his fingertip brushed over her tight entrance.

"Heavenly. You will see stars when I'm done with you."

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18

[bnhaobservation]

Todoroki family and chap 430

In case it wasn't obvious by now, I was very invested in the Todoroki family storiline and one of the things that sadden me the most about chap 430 is this image.

We've Enji, or maybe I should say Endeavor, Rei is pushing his wheelchair as he goes somewhere, we don't know where, some want to think he's visiting Touya but it's not said and, around him there are 3 men and a woman.

It's not his children, it's his sidekicks and Hawks.

The final chapter doesn't touch what happened to Natsuo and Fuyumi, we've to assume Fuyumi is happy with her work and Natsuo with his marriage.

We don't know if Touya is still alive but, anyway, he's going to die. Even if we assume he died happily he had said smiling was why they lived their lives. He could keep on living out of anger and grudge but not out of smiles and happiness?

Fuyumi has fought for all those years so hard because she wanted back her family and she basically get nothing, not her old family as Natsuo leaves and Touya dies and it's not even hinted she has a new one as it was Natsuo the one who got a girlfriend as soon as he entered university and marries her basically a year and a half later.

Natsuo is just rushedly married to this character of which we don't even know the name. We don't know if, in the end he visited Touya again or not, we don't know if he ever managed to overcome all the anger and pain he felt inside for how his father ruined the family.

Shouto became a Hero, but his mother is not with him to support him but she is with his father. We don't see his siblings around him, cheering for him. We don't know which effect had on him to reconnect with Touya only to lose him. We're only told he became a good Hero so people don't call him anymore Endeavor's son, forgetting people also looked poorly at him for being Dabi's brother. How did he overcome that? Evidently it somehow disappeared as all the first years are already all his fans and even Dai said all the kids wanted to be like Shouto... but, at the end of the day, we aren't shown Shouto having a good moment with his family, his good moments come from being a Hero and being with his friends.

Even if we assume that, despite having to marry Enji out of duty to help her family, Rei had fallen in love with Enji while their family was having a good time before he turned abusive, and now that she had forgiven him and he stopped being abusive she's glad to be back with him... skipping this was very vaguely constructed she lost 10 years in a hospital and we can't see her with her children. She's supposed to be happy being with him with one of her children dead and one of her children keeping away from his father because just being in the same room with him makes him feel bad.

Mind you, I'm not saying Natsuo should forgive Enji or force himself to be with Enji or whatever but having a person that's related to you that makes you to feel bad just by being in the same room with you so that you've to avoid that person, is not something that's good. If Enji and Rei live together and Natsuo wants to visit his mother he has to make sure to do it when his father is somewhere else. In the past Rei was split between taking care of Shouto, who couldn't be with her other children, and taking care of Touya, Fuyumi and Natsuo, with the result Natsuo felt neglected because he was very small when all this happened and needed his mother... but likely she ended up neglecting Fuyumi and Touya too because you can't be in two places at the same time. Now, instead than having to take turns with Shouto, Natsuo have to take turns with Enji.

Ad for Enji... all his atonement for what? He doesn't manage to rebuild a relation with his children, apparently his sidekicks and Hawks have replaced them, they're conveniently of the right number. His children would have gotten where they were even without his atonement because all we hear is about others helping them, he only get the cool sentence, we see nothing of his struggle. But this is also supposed to be a happy ending for him. Who care if he doesn't have his kids? He has his sidekicks and Hawks his newfound family he would have had anyway had he focused on his work only.

The story tried it's hardest to make me think he cared about his family but then I'm supposed to think he's happy not having any of the sort apart for Rei and a new found family.

Horikishi had already established in the previous chapter Enji would have his sidekicks and Hawks' support, I didn't need a reminder of that.

I needed to see THIS image at the end...

...maybe including Natsuo's girlfriend as he could have introduced her to the rest of the family... or him holding his firstborn and letting Rei see her grandchild.

I needed to see Fuyumi finding someone with whom to form a family since she can't have her own back and she wished so badly for it.

I needed to have this being shown to me...

...or at least to see Touya out of that contraption as he died in peace, a smile on his lips since happiness somehow couldn't save him but grudge could.

I needed to be told something that Enji did that HELPED his kids, that made them be better. Not something vague, I need something concrete. Even if they would never be with him, since he's supposed to atone to them, I need him to make something more than just give them a new house and pay for the bills because he'd been paying bills through all his life so that's not new.

I would have been fine with him watching them smile from a distance or hearing from Rei how they were doing and smiling.

Mind you, I'm willing to believe in Horikoshi's mind Enji now is a changed man and very sorry for what he did and loves his family and yadda yadda but there's a reason why we say 'show, don't tell' and so far Horikoshi is more interested in telling than showing.

I get that in his mind Enji is a character more important than Rei, Fuyumi, Natsuo or even Touya, I would have been fine with all that I've mentioned being shown through his perspective because he cares about his family and so he's happy if they're happy.

If, in all that talking Midoriya does about reaching out to others, what he wanted to point out was Enji had continued to reach out to help his family even if they had cut him out of their lives.

But no, the good part is that his sidekicks and Hawks are reaching out for him. Okay, I can take this as the test trying again to point out Enji will never be a Hero, in the end he's not the one reaching out but the one others have to reach out to help but, again, it was established in the past chapter so I didn't need a reminder and it kind of steps all over his arc of trying to reach out for his family.

In the end the most he does is to just take it when they want to yell at him and let them live the live they want... I do think it's a great thing if an abuser were to realize what he had done to his victims and try to atone. It's kind of a miracle turned true... but there's just too little of it in this story.

Maybe I'm missing some deep cultural context, maybe Enji is doing something AMAZING for his family that Horikoshi thought he didn't need to show because it's obvious to Japanese readers but... but I wish he had shown it. Instead the moment Enji finally stop being a Hero and could do something for his family, the manga ends with his family disregating but I'm supposed to see it as a happy ending.

I prefer it had just been called a sad ending. Bad things happen, I can stomach them but honestly "Ano Hana" makes a much better work at portraying grief and atonement and the same goes for "Koe no katachi".

Horikoshi knew he was selling this manga also to foreign readers. I'm not saying he should have made his manga thinking to them but, if this atonement arc was so important, maybe he should have made it more understandable for us as well. This makes the diffference between a national mangaka and an international one.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part one)

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: yeah soo... I think I have some kind of obsession with this trope. And I have never ever seen any azriel x reader forced marriage fics, so I decided to write one myself. But I could be wrong and there are fics out there that I haven't seen, in which case, please let me know about them. (Also, because we do not know who azzie's father was and if he was a camp Lord, for the sake of this fic, lets pretend that he was, indeed, a camp lord.)

Tw: Forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so please let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Y/n poured the imaginary tea in the cups set on the low table in front of her, talking to Mister Fluffkins about the weather. He was her daughter's husband, or she pretended that he was. Her daughter, Alisa, was her favourite doll, who was going to be married today.

"I hope there was no troubles while on the way here?" She asked as she set down the teacup and turned towards her other toys.

Before Mister Fluffkins could answer though, Y/n's mother walked in, crouching in front of Y/n, smiling.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just asking Mister Fluffkins about his travels today. Do you want some tea?"

"No dear. I just wanted to tell you that a friend of father is coming here today with his son. I want you to try and become his friend, as he has none. Okay?"

"Okay mother." The little girl turned away and settled down opposite her to be son in law, sipping her imaginary tea. Excited that she'll be making a new friend today. Maybe he can play with her. He could be Alisa's father, and they would be one big and happy family.

As little Y/n was busy musing about her new friend, she lost track of time, and soon they had arrived. The door opened once again and her mother stepped inside, Y/n stood. A small boy, probably her age or older, stepped in behind her, his hands clasped together nervously. His eyes flitted around the room, his hair dishevelled and messy. He looked too thin to be healthy.

Y/n mother nudged him forward, and he hesitantly took a step forward. Then another and another.

"I'm Y/n. What is your name?" She asked when he was standing in front of her.

"Az– Azriel."

"Let's be friends." She said, before practically shoving him in the chair next to Mister Fluffkins and pouring him some tea. "It's tea. Drink, you'll like it."

He blinked. "There's nothing there."

"Obviously. We're playing, I can't use real tea."

Her mother had laughed, walking away. It took some time for Azriel to get accustomed to playing with her, but when he did, he enjoyed it, cherishing this rare moment of happiness. And though he was quite odd, saying he had never played anything in his life, Y/n didn't mind.

But then both of their father's stepped in, as if in a hurry. Azriel's father yelled at him to be quick and clasp her hand, and Y/n decided she didn't like this man. He was too loud.

Y/n's father was looking sadly at her when the bad man told him to make haste. They made Y/n and Azriel hold hands, guiding them through it.

"Listen girl, I want you to say I agree to everything he says, understand?" Y/n nodded, afraid of his father. "Now," he began saying to Azriel, "repeat after me. I will marry you, when I see you after we come of age. Say it." Azriel looked scared, but repeated nonetheless. And she mumbled a I agree after him before a pain shot down her left ring finger and she wrenched it from Azriel's grasp, tears pooling in her eyes. At that exact moment, the door slammed open and her mother stumbled in, gasping and clutching at her head.

"No..." She stared at her husband angrily with tears in her eyes.

Y/n didn't understand, but it wasn't as if she could question the adults. Because, even though her father didn't hate her, he didn't like her very much either, hitting her whenever she got too loud. But he wasn't bad, atleast Y/n didn't think so.

Maybe when her older siblings came home from school, she would ask them about it.

•○🌑○•

As she stared at the rain droplets pelting the window of her room, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about that day. It had been almost five centuries since then.

Asking her siblings about it had yielded no information, after all, they were kids too.

But now she knew.

Azriel's father had fame and control over the camp they had once lived in. Her father wanted to be in the good graces of the Lord and also the recently vacated position of the second most powerful person, the camp Lord's second in command. Azriel's father was giving Y/n's father what he wanted in exchange for her marriage to his bastard son.

Who had run away.

But she couldn't fault him for that, knowing what his father was like. She knew Azriel fairly well, considering she met him a few more times after the day they had been promised to each other. The last time they met, he had finally told Y/n that his father kept him in a dungeon. Then he left. They could have been called friends once, but now, Y/n didn't even know if he was alive or rotting somewhere. But, even after all these centuries, Y/n still cares for that tiny, skinny, timid boy with disheveled hair, who would get extremely happy if provided with one small act of kindness.

But she also couldn't stop the tiny kernel of resentment that bloomed in her, because, after he had run away, his father had decided that he no longer wanted to share the power when he wasn't getting anything out of it, kicking their family out of the camp. Her father had gone nearly crazy.

Her sister, Velda, had been in a similar situation as Y/n, having been forced to marry one of the more prized warriors. But she didn't have to make a promise for it, as the warrior wanted to marry her. Y/n had been forced to promise herself to Azriel because his father somehow knew that he couldn't marry Azriel forcefully.

She would have been married too, if not for the mark on the second last finger of her left hand, encircling it like a ring. Every day she woke up with a pot of dead and hope in her stomach. Dread, for if Azriel came to take her, she would be forced to marry him, but if he didn't, she'd have to ensure her father's taunts, as if it was somehow her fault Azriel escaped. Those taunts, which had increased since her mother's death, haunted her at night.

Hope, for if he came, maybe she'll be able to have the life she always dreamed of, and that Azriel would still be the boy she had befriended. And if he didn't, she won't have to leave.

Her father had waited all these years in hopes that Azriel would come to get his bride. But he was tired of waiting, it seemed. And so, today, she and her father they would be visiting Hewn City, in his hopes that the High Lord could find her husband.

•○🌑○•

The Hewn City was hauntingly beautiful. That's all Y/n could describe it as.

They were waiting on the side, her father conversing with someone named Keir while she stared at everything she could get her sights on in awe.

The doors to the court room suddenly opened, everyone falling silent as the High Lord and the Lady, with the little heir in her arms, walked in, with their Inner Circle, as they were called. Y/n kept her eyes downcast, hiding behind her father. Her neck prickles, as if someone was staring at her, but it wasn't something she was unfamiliar with.

Soon, everyone dropped to their knees, rising when the High Lord commanded. After a few people conversed with him, her father stepped forward, her following, still staring at the ground. He bowed, and she curtsied.

But then, when a shiver wound down her spine, she lifted her eyes.

She had to take a step back, her jaw dropping.

Because, staring at her were wide, hazel eyes.

She stared and stared, hoping she was dreaming and hoping that she wasn't. Because those eyes, she would never forget.

Azriel.

Her father bowed, turning away, and she shook her head at Azriel, slightly. He dipped his chin and looked away.

But when Y/n tried to step away, a sharp pain shot through her chest and left hand, a scream tearing from her throat. She fell to her knees, gasping and clutching her hand to her chest. One glance at the dais told her that Azriel had fallen to his knees as well, and everyone was silent, looking between the two of them.

She looked at her father, the confusion in his eyes clearing and a wicked smile blooming on his face.

"Finally."

•○🌑○•

Part 2

[lauralot89]

I read The Black Vampyre by Uriah Derick D'Arcy* and uh. That was a thing.

I want to like this. It's an anti-capitalist, anti-slavery story from 1819, and who doesn't love that? Except it legitimately reads like the ravings of a maniac. I mean, maybe I'm just tired, but it's not a good sign when I'm ten pages in and have to check Wikipedia to verify what the fuck is going on.

Speaking of Wikipedia, I had to get a paperback copy of this book because I couldn't find it anywhere online in its entirety. In my copy, the narrative itself ends on page 90, but the book carries on until page 111, and part of this is because whoever complied this straight up put the entire Wikipedia article at the back of the book. What is happening.

Okay so. I'm going to try to sum this up without sounding insane.

We're told in the first sentence that some guy named Anthony Gibbons is mixed race and that this is his family ancestry:

Once upon a time, there's a terrible person appropriately named Mr. Personne who owns a plantation in St. Domingo. One day he decides to drown a small enslaved boy, except the boy then is resurrected by the moonlight and comes back. Further attempts to drown him fail, so Mr. Personne orders a pyre to be built so he can throw the boy onto it. Except the boy just shoves Mr. Personne into the fire instead.

Mr. Personne is rescued but lies dying of his wounds and asks to see his wife and infant son. His wife appears but tells him that she went to check on their son and found nothing but his hair, skin, and nails. Like a deflated balloon I guess. Mr. Personne dies.

Some years later, Mrs. Personne has been married twice more, but both of those husbands died too, as did any children from her marriages. So she's chilling on her property when all of sudden this super hot Black prince shows up accompanied by his white pageboy, Zembo. The prince professes his love to Mrs. Personne and they get married that evening.

Then, after they've consummated the marriage, the prince makes Mrs. Personne and Zembo go outside to where all her dead husbands and kids are buried, and digs up her most recently deceased son. Said son is completely without decay, and the prince forces Mrs. Personne to drink his blood.

Mrs. Personne passes out from this and wakes up to find that she is a VAMPYRE! (it's written like that, caps and exclamation points and all). And also Mr. Personne has been resurrected and is a VAMPYRE too. But then her next two husbands are also resurrected and demand a duel to the death for her hand, but the prince just stakes both of them. The prince then reveals that he was the boy Mr. Personne tried to drown, and also that Zembo is actually the Personnes' son but now a vampire. Even though Zembo has hair, skin, and nails, which was all that was left of their baby, so I don't understand how the vampyre was able to take him while leaving behind his hair, skin, and nails, but whatever. My head hurts.

The prince tells them that there will be a ship waiting to take them to Europe that night, but instead of getting on the ship, Zembo takes them to a cave where a bunch of vampyres, including the prince, and also a bunch of Black people, are having a meeting about ending slavery? And for no good reason, the vampyre prince tells everyone in attendance how to kill a vampire? And also holds up a bottle that contains a cure for vampirism?

But then it turns out Zembo knew this meeting was taking place and alerted the military somehow, who show up and kill all the vampyres but not all of the Black people because the Black people leave while the military is busy with the vampyres. And then Zembo and his parents all take the vampyre cure and they change Zembo's name to Barabbas and they all live happily ever after except that Mrs. Personne got pregnant from her wedding night with the vampyre prince and has a mixed race baby.

That baby is the ancestor of Anthony Gibbons, who was mentioned at the very beginning of the story. So you may think now, we're going to get to hear about Anthony Gibbons and what his deal is. Well, his deal is that sometimes he has issues with his bowels, and thinks it might be due to his vampire ancestry. And that's the last we ever hear of him.

Then we get a letter from Uriah Derick D'Arcy saying that capitalists are the real vampires, such as bank directors, people who commit financial crimes but can get out of jail due to being rich, and also people who claim that Lord Byron wrote the 1819 story "The Vampyre." And D'Arcy. D'Arcy's a vampire too.

Then we get this random letter sent to a publishing house about how two brothers named Launcelot and Solomon are collaborating in publishing now, and how great that is, and how D'Arcy has written a poem for their consideration.

The poem is about how capitalists are the real vampires, such as bank directors, people who commit financial crimes but can get out of jail due to being rich, and also people who claim that Lord Byron wrote the 1819 story "The Vampyre." And D'Arcy. D'Arcy's a vampire too. Yes, it's literally exactly what we were already told but in poem form.

And then lastly we're told that there's a pug that's bothering the publishing house and the pug is wearing a collar that says Uriah Derick D'Arcy. And that's it. The end.

Also for some reason, every time a proper noun was introduced for the first time, it was written in all caps. And there were so many exclamation points. So so many exclamation points. I feel like Elaine's boss from that episode of Seinfeld in that I too hate exclamation points.

*Uriah Derick D'Arcy is a pseudonym, and apparently there is some debate as to whether the true author is Robert C. Sands or Richard Varick Dey. I honestly thought for half a second that the real writer was Polidori, because of the weird repeated mention of "The Vampyre" being attributed to Byron and also due to both using the phrase "TO GLUT THE THIRST OF A VAMPYRE" and both beginning with the same excerpt from a poem by Byron. But no, Polidori's writing is awful and here the writing itself was fine on a technical level. Just the narrative was incoherent madness.

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 14/?)

Series Masterlist

Kingslanding 

113 ac

Your pov

I try to ignore the wails and screams that fills the halls. The swish of maids dresses as they rush down the halls with bloody rags trying to find clean ones. The whispers of courtiers trying to decide if the babe will be a boy or not. 

I try, but I find even a deaf man would hear the wails that fill the keep. 

All this pain for a babe? I think solemnly looking down at my flat belly. To think that one day a babe would one day grow there is baffling. 

“Her Grace needs more hot water.” I hear a frantic maid say most likely to another maid. 

I remember how happy I was finding out I was gonna be a big sister, now I wish I wasn't if only for her. 

Papa and Ali asked for me to come to his chambers. I try to figure out on the way what it could be about. 

Maybe there's gonna be another wedding? Nyra is betrothed to Laenor. I think just before the doors to Papa’s chambers open. 

“Ah wonderful you're both here!” Papa says when I enter. I notice Nyra sitting next to him scowling towards Ali who only hangs her head and twists her fingers.

“Yes we're both here, now what do you need?” Nyra asks in that tone of hers. She's been speaking this way ever since Ali married Papa. I don't get why she blames Ali, Ali said she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to, and it seemed like she wanted to. 

Papa grimaces at Nyras tone before smiling again. 

“I-no we have wonderful news. The Queen is with child!” Papa exclaims taking Ali's hand in his not even looking at her.

I smile ear to ear when I hear this. “I'm gonna be a big sister?” I ask excitedly as I rush over to Ali touching her belly.

I never got the chance before, Papa said Mama was too sick that it just wouldn't happen for a while. But then she did, but then she passed. 

With that thought I look up at Ali worriedly and she seems to notice my fears as she speaks next. 

“The Maesters say it should be a healthy pregnancy. No complications, at least from what they can tell as of now.” 

I smile wider, staring at her still flat belly trying to figure out if I'm gonna have a sister or brother. But then Nyra scoffs and glares at Ali.

“It's only been three moons since your wedding, and you're already with child? Interested.” She says as if she knows some dark secret and is all too happy about it. 

I'm confused why the time between their marriage and the baby being here is important. I mean we all saw them kiss at the wedding, and many times after. It was only a matter of time those kisses made a baby. 

Before Ali can cry from Nyras cruel words or Papa yell at Nyra I decide to speak. 

“This is great, do we know if it's a boy or a girl?” 

This makes Ali laugh as she looks down at me stroking my wild hair back. I know she knows own. I just went for a fly, I had told her that Srromchaser has been sad lately and I hoped a fly would help.

“We won't know until they are born. But what do you hope for?” 

My immediate thought is that I hope Ali lives and doesn't pass away like Mama. But I know I can't say that, this is a happy moment, no sad thoughts allowed. 

“I want a,” I start stopping to think one last time before responding. “Sister!” I decide with a nod.

She smiles down at me, she finally seems happy again. Like the Ali I knew before Nyra was mad at her and Papa married her. 

“Oh but a son would be helpful, don't you want a brother, Darling?” Papa says with a forced grin.

I try not to frown at his words, Papa always wanted a son I never understood why though. 

But what made me the most upset was how his words took away Alis smile. She was finally happy and he just had to ruin it. 

I'm brought back when the screams finally stop, I feel my heart stop, I can't breathe.

Why is it so quiet? Shouldn't there be a babe crying? Surely if I can hear her screams all the way across the keep I would hear a babes cries? I think frantically as I climb out of bed clutching my Caraxes plush. 

I move to open the door only to find Ser Criston. He doesn't seem to have noticed me having seemingly also been co fused by the sudden quiet. 

“Is she alright, oh please say she's alright Criston.” I beg tears rolling down my cheeks. 

He looks down at me frowning before kneeling and taking my hands in his much larger ones. 

“I don't know, but I am going to find out. Stay here, a guard will be in front of your door. I will be back as soon as I can with news.” Ser Criston says before standing and turning down the hall in search of a maid or maester with news.

I try not to think about how he didn't say good news, only news. I know there is a chance she could die, but I prayed, I prayed so much she wouldn't. I prayed to the Seven like she taught me, to the old gods, I even tried to pray to the Valyrian ones like Kepus taught me. So surely one of them heard me and will follow my prayers. 

I turn back into my chambers wiping my tears walking towards Orchid. She quickly sits me in her lap showing me the new hat she made for her son Noah. 

“I was thinking of putting little stars along the hem, and for his sister Clover well she will have flowers. She says trying to distract me from the cruel wait to know if all is well. 

I nod my head as I move Caraxes wings up and down pretending he is actually in the skins and not just a plush in my arms. 

Kepus wouldn't make me wait this long, he'd let me know right away. I think eyeing the door for any moment when finally after what feeling like moons a knock comes to the door.

“The Queen awaits you, Your Grace.” I hear Criston say through the door. 

Orchid quickly sets me on my feet and slips my wool slippers on as well as my silk shawl ‘to keep the cold away’ she says. Before running to the door with Caraxes still clutched in my arms.

“Is she alright? Is the babe? Oh please tell me they are alright!” I plead as he takes my hand in his guiding me towards the Queen's chambers. 

He smiles down at me before nodding and I feel all the worry leave my body. I fight the tears of relief that they are alright, that they are still breathing, that they hadn't passed like Mother and Baelon did. 

I can't help but notice all the courtiers who stand outside the Queen's chambers. I hear them whisper about how if it's a boy it would be the heir. 

If it's a boy it would be heir? I wouldn't feel all this stress anymore? I wouldn't have all of court watching me? I think excitedly before remembering that if it is a boy it will feel all this stress, fear, and crushing weight on him.

No please don't let it be a boy, I don't want anyone to feel this, let alone a innocent babe. I pray to any gods that will hear me.

Ser Ceiston pushes them all out of our way until we yet to the doors. 

“The Queen and King are excited to see you.” He says before opening the door and letting me in.

I step in taking in the sight of Papa talking to maester about something, and of Ali holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. I watch with bated breaths as she lifts her head to look at me. Her smile lights the room from its pure joy. 

“Come here.” She says waving me over. 

I waste no time running over to her tears of relief finally rolling down my cheeks. I climb into the bed sluggling into her side crying into her chest.

“What's wrong, Sweetheart?” She asks stroking my hair back so she can wipe my tears as they fall.

“I thought something bad happened, that you would be like-like.” I can't even finish the sentence but thankfully she seems to understand as she hums before responding.

“Me and your brother are perfectly fine.” She says and I can't help but look up at her wide eyed.

“I have a baby brother?” I ask looking down at the black and gold blanket again. 

“Yes, his name is Aegon.” 

I smile big as I move the blanket to the side to see his chubby cheeks and silver gold wisps. 

“Like the conquer. I love it.” I say stroking his cheek. 

His skin feels so soft, so fragile, like the finest silk. His cheeks are red and he seems to be asleep as his eyes are closed and he has yet to open them. 

“I'm glad you like them, now I have two wonderful children. You and Aegon.” She says and I freeze turning to look up at her. 

I see the joy bit also the fear in her eyes. But I don't know why she is afraid, I would be over joyed to be her child as well.

“Well we are lucky to have such a good Mama.” I respond and I see her wipe at her eyes fighting tears. At first I think she is sad but then she smiles and kisses my brow and I know they are happy tears. 

“Can I hold him?” I ask to which she nods telling me to sit with my back against the head board and hold my arms out in front of me. 

When Aegon is set into my arms I'm shocked how heavy he is. He's so tiny surely he isn't that heavy? I think looking down at him once he is in my lap. 

“He's so cute.” I whisper excitedly to Ali.

“He truly is.” She says shifting her position only to whince in pain. 

I frown going to ask if she is alright when she kisses my cheek and looks down at Aegon again.

“He looks just like you. Just with Papa’s hair, and I don't know what his eyes look like.” I whisper to her.

“You think so? All of the men say he looks like the King. And I hadn't gotten a close look at his eyes, but I do know they are purple.” She says stroking Aegons nose making him scrunch it up in annoyance making us both giggle.

It always strikes me as odd how she always refers to Papa as ‘the King', they are married and yet they only call each other by their titles. King, Queen, Wife, Husband, anything but their names or a sweet nickname. But instead of bringing it up I shrug it off like always looking down at my little brother again.

“I'm your big sister, I'll always protect you. Even when your big and strong, I'm gonna protect you from the bad people here. I'll guide you, teach you Valyrian, I even have toys you can pick from. Just not my Caraxes and Stormchaser plushes. Oh and not my dolly either, she looks just like me, even had my eyes.” I whisper down to him excitedly.

In my excitement I miss how Nyra walks in only to storm out once she hears its a son. But what I wish I didn't miss was how Papa stares at Aegon with disdain, and how the Hand looks at him like a tool. But Ali does, and because of this she holds me and Aegon closer silently swearing to the gods to always protect us even if it meant her demise.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy @fallenxjas

[millieisawriter]

rant about the show american primeval and why i think abish got her happy ending, spoilers under the cut

so after having finished the show in two evenings, i had told my friend to watch it. she did. and she's a romantic, just like me. except we're different types of romantic, i guess.

the end for red feather and abish. let's start with saying that my friend said the both of them died in the arms of someone they loved. while i agree it was the case for red feather, i do not agree it was the case for abish.

like, it's kind of beautiful how we can interpret the same thing differently. but, maybe it's just me, not once did i have the impression that abish loved her husband. from the first scene when we meet abish and her husband jacob, until the ending where she literally became a part of the shoshone and fought on their side.

yes, from the traditional point of view, or if we choose to sympathize with jacob, i can understand that someone may think their ending was beautiful because they do eventually reunite. the wife and the husband dying together is generally a concept i am very fond of, but not here.

i'm sorry, but to me it seemed abish was miserable in this marriage from the beginning. i don't know much about mormons besides the fact that they were rather insane, but i assume she could've been forced into this marriage, it was something arranged and/or forced upon her. to me, abish didn't love her husband, and quite frankly, i think she had a hard time even just liking him. she wanted to be free.

on the other hand, i'm not saying she was in love with red feather nor that he was in love with her. i wished they had ended up together, but they didn't, and that's okay. again - abish wanted to be free. and, ironically, she felt the most freedom when she was held captive. so much that she even decided to escape and come back after she had been returned to the mormons.

and, honestly, from the first time abish and red feather looked at each other i hoped they'd be a thing, like it would be so romantic. the way they looked at each other for the first time was like "wow, it's fate". i was sad that they didn't get their happy ending, and i posted about it. but now i think abish did get her happy ending after all. she didn't want to live in a cage. her marriage wasn't a happy one. her marriage was a cage, possibly forced upon her. she wanted to be free. and death? i think death is what gave her eternal freedom. and what makes it more beautiful is that the bullet that gave her this freedom was fired by her own husband.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Do you think that book!Alicent was a one dimensional evil stepmother and the show has fixed her by making her a sad victim of the men around her? I don't agree with this take but i see so many people argue in favour of stripping her of her agency in the show in that book!Alicent was nothing but a misogynistic caricature made by the sexist maesters.

Thanks for this question anon! I had actually been meaning to write something about the "evil stepmother" accusations that get thrown at book!Alicent because having recently re-read F&B, I just don't see it.

First of all, and I think most notably, Alicent's relationship with Rhaenyra doesn't really deteriorate completely until Daemon returns to court. Before that, we don't really have much information about the first few years of Viserys' marriage. The fandom likes to claim that Alicent was beefing with a 9 year old but that isn't really backed up with much evidence. After the account that nine year old Rhaenyra poured for her new stepmother at Alicent and Viserys' wedding (and on a seriously wtf note, helped undress her father for the bedding, but that's another topic), the next words we have about Alicent and Rhaenyra are when Alicent quips, about Rhaenyra's relationship with Criston Cole, "Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies, but who protects the princess from Ser Criston?" And y'all? This is not beefing or bullying. Alicent is pointing out that Rhaenyra, now about 13-ish, is in a vulnerable position as an unmarried young woman. Is she also possibly picking up on some weird predatory vibes with Criston? Perhaps (which is also also interesting, considering Criston later defects to Alicent's camp)! Remember, book!Criston is only a year younger than Daemon, so anything between them would not only be completely off limits because Criston is a kingsguard, but also extremely inappropriate just based on their ages alone. Regardless, Rhaenyra is at this point surrounded by a lot of men ("many lords and knights sought her favor") and Alicent alone seems cognizant of the danger this poses.

After this, the relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra evidently deteriorates, but we're not told precisely how, only that the "amity between Her Grace and her stepdaughter had proved short lived, for both Rhaenyra and Alicent aspired to be the first lady of the realm..." Keep in mind, this is Gyldayn editorializing without a source, and as for being "first lady of the realm," it's just as likely that Rhaenyra was jealous of her stepmother's position as queen as it was that Alicent had any particular animosity towards Rhaenyra. In any case, the book does not suggest that either of them are at fault for the breakdown.

This is also around the time that Otto gets sent home for bugging Viserys about the succession, so that probably had something to do with it, although this still does not amount to Alicent beefing with a child, as it's doubtful she brought up the situation to Rhaenyra herself, but rather she and Otto brought the issue to Viserys. And although I don't really want to get into the succession weeds here, I do want to make it clear that the expectation that Viserys would make his firstborn son his heir was an entirely reasonable one. Everywhere except for Dorne, sons inherit before daughters, and if Viserys had made it clear before he married Alicent that he had no intention of replacing Rhaenyra as heir, Otto might not have married Alicent to Viserys in the first place. There are multiple examples of men with daughters but no sons remarrying in order to get a male heir. It's the only reason Corlys offered Laena as a bride to Viserys (and, arguably, Corlys would have had the leverage to force the issue, which is perhaps one reason why he did not choose Laena). And it wasn't just Otto and Alicent-- people asked "what of the ruling of the Great Council in 101?" But Viserys basically told naysayers to shut up and stop asking. Okay.

Then we have the dress incident, and at this point Rhaenyra is 14, Daemon is back in town, and there's a tourney on. Alicent wears a green dress, Rhaenyra wears a black and red one. It's interesting that in this chapter, no additional context is given to this event. Much earlier in F&B, we do learn that the High Tower is lit green to call its banners against Maegor the Cruel. The show makes this association clear, but Gyldayn does not say that Alicent did this as a declaration of war on Rhaenyra, only that "the queen wore a green gown, whilst the princess dressed dramatically in Targaryen red and black." If you've read F&B, you know that Gyldayn loves editorializing, so the fact that the association made by the show is completely omitted here suggest that Gyldayn lacked this context, or people at the time of the event simply thought it was a green dress with no additional meaning, or perhaps he expected in-world readers to draw their own conclusions (although it's kind of unlike Gyldayn to resist showing off his knowledge when he can). Regardless, after that, the people gave them the nickname the blacks and the greens, and it stuck.

Anyway, it's clear Alicent and Rhaenyra aren't getting along at this point, and they probably resent each other, but there is no mention of Alicent actually doing anything whatsoever to harm Rhaenyra, much less "bullying a child who has just lost her mother" or "beefing with a nine year old." This seems to be a complete invention. Given that book!Rhaenyra is a spoiled only child, by this point a teenager, accustomed to having her father's undivided attention, and now he has a new wife and at this point three new children in his life, it's equally likely that Rhaenyra was feeling displaced and acting out. However, instead of giving her any helpful guidance or correcting her, the trusted adults in her life reinforce her negative feelings, and as we'll see, even use those insecurities to manipulate her. As for Alicent "poisoning her children against Rhaenyra," there's simply zero evidence to back this up. In fact, what eventually happens would seem to suggest that Alicent was at least somewhat concerned about the hostility between her children and Rhaenyra. And here is when things really break down, because this is where Daemon really starts to stir the pot.

Before the tourney, Daemon had been fighting in the stepstones. He returns to King's Landing a hero, and immediately latches onto Rhaenyra. As for Alicent, "although he treated her with all the courtesy due her station, there was no warmth between them, and men said that the prince was notably cool towards her children, especially his nephews, Aegon and Aemond, whose birth had pushed him still lower in the order of succession." So who is, in fact beefing with children? Daemon Targaryen. At the same time, Daemon starts cozying up to Rhaenyra, giving her extravagant gifts, telling her stories, and doing the one thing that is absolutely sure to win over a teenager, being a hater. Daemon hones in on Rhaenyra's issues with Alicent and together they have a great deal of fun openly mocking Alicent and her children, and what Daemon called the "lickspittles" who were in Alicent's camp. This works very well on Rhaenyra because of course it does! Daemon is the cool dragonriding uncle, the handsome Rogue Prince, and Rhaenyra is eating up the attention. She and Daemon have dragonraces and he tells her she's much prettier than Alicent and strokes that teenage ego. It's also at this point that the rumors about Daemon and Rhaenyra having a sexual relationship begin, and Daemon supposedly asks for Rhaenyra's hand in marriage because "who else would take her now?" Keep in mind, she's fourteen. And whether it's true or not, Viserys exiles Daemon again. He goes back to the Stepstones, and things settle down in King's Landing.

Of course the relationship between between Rhaenyra and her stepmother is bad by this point. Her and Daemon have just spent six months mocking her and her children and their supporters. Aegon is only about four or five years old, so the beef has got to be pretty one sided, although even little kids can tell when they're being given the cold shoulder or laughed at. Rhaenyra even makes a point of always referring to them as her half-brothers, rather than simply as her brothers. Still, a few years pass, Rhaenyra is now sixteen, and it's time for her to get married. Alicent proposes she marry Aegon, and one of the reasons she gives is that they don't get along well. "All the more reason to bind them together in marriage," Alicent says, acknowledging that Rhaenyra hating her now six year old younger brother is in fact a big fucking problem. If Alicent hoped for Rhaenyra and Aegon to marry, why on earth would she poison her children against Rhaenyra? But Viserys shoots this idea down, saying "the boy is Alicent's own blood. She wants him on the throne." And yes, of course she does, but she probably also wants him to stay alive.

So, Rhaenyra marries Laenor, and after that there's really no point in trying to maintain any sort of stepmother relationship, is there? Rhaenyra is now an adult, she's married, and she's made her feelings about Alicent and her siblings very clear. At this point, Alicent has to look out for the safety of her children, who are going to be Rhaenyra's biggest rivals. And if they dislike their older half-sister, who can blame them? Again, this is a girl who spent the better half of six months laughing at them. Rhaenyra did nothing but sabotage that relationship. And if Alicent decides she's going to fight for Aegon's inheritance, she's only doing what any mother in her position would do. There's no evidence she does it for power or greed, she simply does it because she doesn't owe Rhaenyra anything and letting someone who is actively hostile to her children take the throne unchallenged, especially when that person's claim is untraditional to say the least, and seen by many as being weaker than that of her sons, would be taking a huge risk with their lives. There's nothing "evil" in Alicent's actions. Book!Alicent did not bully Rhaenyra, did not "beef with a nine year old," or "poison her children against Rhaenyra," in fact, she did what she could to bind them together, but Rhaenyra, (at least in part taking her cues from Viserys and Daemon), was simply not interested. And you know, that's fine too, Rhaenyra doesn't have to love her stepmother or care about her half-brothers. They're much younger and it's natural that she wouldn't be much interested in them. But as heir to the throne? It sure would have been a much smarter idea to cultivate those relationships.

Book!Alicent isn't an "evil stepmother" though either, after a certain point she she simply prioritizes her own children over someone who has made it abundantly clear she has no use for any of them.