#will do better later i promise T_T

[emotionalwarmth]

*Collapses on the floor*

[euphorajeon]

wednesday night(s) | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff? | college au

— word count: 2.9k

— warnings: laundromat!jk (!!!), stalkerish behaviour (not jk or oc), dubious-consensual kissing (but they talk about it after), jk is a sweetheart and oc is just a blabbering mess

— summary: on a wednesday night seven weeks ago, you met someone in the laundry room. this wednesday night, you meet him again.

— author's note: i suck at summaries,, the story is better i promise (i hope,,, T_T) anyways. i had this in the draft like a few weeks after seven mv was released and then got stuck, revisited it months later then finished it like this. hah. i hope laundromat!jk with his grey hoodie and curly hair is enough to keep this enjoyable :]

masterlist

The dim lighting of the shared laundry room in your apartment building greets you as you step inside with your laundry basket in hand. It’s devoid of other people when you look around, the whirring of the washers and dryers the only sound competing with the silence of the night. You exhale a breath of relief, quickly making a beeline for the nearest empty washer to load your dirty clothes that’s piled up for a week.

Being a college student doesn’t give you many options for your living arrangement, only being able to settle on a one-bedroom apartment with a communal laundry room. In the first months of moving into the apartment, your schedule only allowed you to do your laundry on the weekends, which was apparently the same case for most patrons of the building. The laundry room was always full of people and you had to secure a washer by waiting for someone else to finish, wasting precious hours away from your supposedly free weekend. That, and your social battery was always drained from all the loud conversations among roommates and friends alike when they were also waiting for a washer to free up. You couldn’t stand having your energy gone even before Monday said hello, so you tried to clear your schedule to avoid doing laundry on the weekend.

Wednesday nights are scheduled for laundry now, after a day of two classes at campus and one shift at the coffee shop five bus stops away from where you live. Usually you’d be tired after the long day, but the laundry room is mostly quiet in the middle of the week, so you use the time to decompress while preparing yourself for your 10 am shift at the coffee shop Thursday morning. The burn in your arms after folding your shirts and pants for nearly twenty minutes helps you tune out your surroundings, which normally consists of the occasional one or two other patrons coming in and the whirr and beep of machines.

���You showed up late tonight.”

Ah, that’s something you forget to mention. Or rather, someone.

Your heart jumps in your chest, beats stuttering a bit faster not because you’re flustered in his presence, but because he just popped out of nowhere. Wasn’t the room empty when you scanned it upon your entry?

Maybe you were too busy trying to declutter your mind from the day’s events that you didn’t hear him loading his own laundry into the washer. Didn’t hear the beep when his washer started, didn’t hear him calling you upon noticing your presence, didn’t hear him walk closer, and certainly didn’t hear when he sat on top of the washer right next to the one you’re using. Or maybe you did hear something, but didn’t care enough to find out who it was.

“Did you go on a date?” He gestures to the black tanktop you have on underneath your denim jacket. Probably referring to your face too, which is still caked with make up because you haven’t had time to clean it off yet. You spare him a glance with a downturn of your lips, by now a standard response to whatever he says, really.

You met him for the first time around seven weeks ago, when he accidentally knocked you over with his gigantic laundry basket. He had apologized profusely with that big, round peepers of his and you had brushed him off with a polite smile, hoping he’d just drop it and leave you alone like any normal person would. He had been silent for the rest of his laundry cycle, but you could feel the way his eyes never left your figure for the remainder of the night.

A week after that, you found him using the exact same washer as last week and tried to avoid the one next to his, planning to load your laundry quietly and duck out of there before he had the chance to realize that you were in the vicinity. The plan was … partly successful as you managed to get out of the laundry room to wait out the washing cycle in your room, but not before he appeared beside you when you were putting in fabric softener into the washer. He had waited until your washer started running to once again voice out an apology for the laundry basket incident, something you told him to chill out about. He was just about to tell you his name when you mumbled out an excuse to flee, leaving him gaping in the middle of the laundry room. You did not want to know his name.

You found out anyway on your next Wednesday shift at the coffee shop, when you were munching on a chocolate muffin in the break room with one of your coworker, Mingyu. He had been showing you his Instagram account, scrolling through the photos when you recognized the Laundry Guy in one of them. “You know him?” Mingyu had inquired upon noticing your thumb had paused scrolling. A recount of what happened two weeks ago involving a certain doe-eyed boy and his enormous laundry basket was told, pulling out an amused laugh from your coworker. “His name is Jeongguk,” Mingyu kindly informed you (even though you didn’t ask.) “He’s in a few of my classes. Likes doing laundry. One time I went to his apartment to hang out and he did laundry in the middle of the night.”

Maybe you would’ve liked this Jeongguk guy if he kept doing his laundry in the middle of the night, out of your sight.

“Hey, Star, someone is looking for you.” The sound of Jeongguk’s voice pulls you back to the present.

Star. The nickname he started calling you by when he saw you loading your blanket—which is dark blue in color and has yellow stars all over it—into the washer one time. You’ve never really responded to it, but he sticks by the nickname like he’s been calling you that since you both were five. You let him have it then, seeing it as a win-win because it keeps him from knowing your name but still lets you know whenever he’s around and talking to you.

But beyond the nickname, the words after that caught your attention. Jeongguk’s nudge on your arm is barely noticeable, but the way his eyes are fixated on the doorway makes you follow his line of sight. There, just outside the laundry room, stood the person you want to see the least right now. Not after the shitty presentation you gave in class this morning (that in turn, got you scolded by your professor), not after you did terrible on your quiz on the second class, and not after you got an earful from your manager at the cafe for not handling a customer complaint professionally. Oh, and certainly, not in front of Jeongguk.

The person outside the laundry room yells your name. “Fancy meeting you here!” he continues, the cheery tone grating your ears. Fuck, how did he know where you live?

Hyun is—was—just a regular customer of the coffee shop you work at. You always see him on your shift, and in turn, have memorized his name and order because he always orders the exact same, simple thing: a medium caramel macchiato with two extra shots. Heck, it’s simple enough that even Mingyu has it drilled into his brain as well. There are multiple occasions where either you or Mingyu had already had Hyun’s order keyed in when he’s just approaching the cashier. Efficient work time, and all.

Unfortunately, this act of memorization is seen as flirting by the guy. He’s started smiling more at you, giving you cheeky winks, even sliding you his phone number on the napkin by the pick-up counter. You’ve tried to reject him politely, but Hyun is so dense that he interpreted your polite rejection as you playing hard to get and thus has been trying even harder to get you to date him. This makes you furious but Mingyu thinks it’s hilarious.

Wait. Mingyu…

He could be the one who told Hyun where you live. That motherfucker.

In the midst of your misery, you miss the way Jeongguk’s eyes light up at finally getting to know your name after seven weeks. Completely miss the way his eyes fill with mirth and his cherub cheeks lifting up in the beginning of a teasing smile, which dims as soon as he sees you bury your head in hands.

“Can we get out of here?” you grit through your teeth. You don’t even know when I turned to we, and with Jeongguk, of all people. You could’ve just bolted out of there, wait out your laundry cycle in your room like usual and pretend you don’t notice Jeongguk’s disappointed gaze that follows. Could’ve left him to deal with Hyun who’s inching closer towards you and have fun imagining him fumble trying to explain nonexistent shit to Hyun.

But that route could end up very badly if Hyun decided to abandon Jeongguk and follow you up to your room instead. It’s scary enough that he knows precisely what building you live in—you don’t need him knowing the exact room number. Hence, using Jeongguk as a shield at this moment feels like a safe choice.

“Heyyy,” Hyun’s voice reaches your ears again, prompting you to glance up, seeing him just a few steps away from you. In a desperate attempt, you grip the material of Jeongguk’s grey hoodie, whisper I’m so sorry before pulling him down to kiss him right on the mouth.

It’s awkward. You can feel how shocked Jeongguk is by the way his lips are still, frozen like a statue for the first few seconds of your kiss. Can’t blame him, though, after his numerous attempts of camaraderie were only responded with a cold shoulder by you. Heck, if you were in his position, you’d slap yourself across the face for pulling this crazy stunt. But Jeongguk is not you, so instead of that, he relaxes his lips before lightly gripping your jaw to angle your head better so he can kiss you properly.

And kiss properly you do, until all you can hear is only the smacking of your lips and the few soft sighs Jeongguk slips in between. He kisses you slowly, sucks on your bottom lip softly like it’s his favorite gummy candy and he wants to savor the taste. He must’ve had a lot of practice to be kissing someone this good.

“Really?” Hyun’s voice sounds far away in your head. “You think I would fall for that?”

When neither of you responds, still busy sucking each other’s lips, Hyun continues. “Please,” he says sarcastically. “Anyone could see that this is all fake.”

You feel Jeongguk pulling away from the kiss, his lips just a breath away from yours. You keep your eyes closed, your breath held, in fear that you’d melt into a puddle right then and there if you see Jeongguk’s face this close. When he speaks, the faint brush of his lips against yours makes you shiver.

“What makes you think this is fake?” he says. There’s a quirk on the corner of his lips when he kisses you again. “Never seen people kissing before? Or are you just trying to convince yourself that this is fake?”

Jeongguk’s hands move from your face to hold your waist, where he squeezes lightly before once again capturing your lips in his. You let out a muffled yelp when his hands slide lower to hoist you up onto a washing machine. The kissing resumes, more smacking sound is heard, and Hyun’s presence gets pushed to the back of your mind. All you can think about is Jeongguk’s lips, how warm and plush they are, and how they are pulling away from you again.

The tiny whine you let out gets lost in Jeongguk’s grunt, still addressing Hyun: “Scram, bro.” When that gets no response, he adds for good measure: “Shoo.”

You hear Hyun click his tongue in annoyance and the stomps he makes while walking away after, but find yourself unable to focus on either as Jeongguk goes back to sucking your bottom lip. The reason why you’re doing this definitely gets forgotten as you let yourself be carried away in Jeongguk’s kisses.

When someone tears open the door of the washing machine next to you loudly, you tear yourself apart from Jeongguk. He’s panting lightly, cheeks flushed and lips kiss-swollen. He’s also smiling at you, pointedly ignoring the dirty look thrown by the only other person in the laundry room other than you two. You grimace at the person, bowing slightly as a pathetic attempt at an apology.

Then you face Jeongguk again. Who’s still flushed. Whose lips still glisten red. Who’s still smiling at you, this time with mirth in his eyes. You fumble.

“Uh, about earlier—“

“Do you want to get off the washing machine first?”

Uh, what?

Right, you’re still sitting on top of the washing machine. Hoisted up by Jeongguk’s hands. On your thighs. Then kissing, licking, sucking—

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You clear your throat, bracing your hands on the machine but Jeongguk beats you to it by once again taking hold of your waist to help you step down. Unfortunately, that means your legs haven’t caught up with your brain yet so they buckle like a pair of useless jelly underneath you. Again, Jeongguk steadies you with his firm hold, still with upturned lips.

“Woah, there. You okay?” He giggles—giggles!—eyes scrunching up into crescents. His hands never leave your waist even after you’re standing solid on your own two feet.

“Yeah, um, thanks.” You try to look at anything but him. “Listen, Jeongguk. I—“

“Wait, how do you know my name?” Jeongguk tilts his head, the unruly strands atop his head making him look like a puppy. “I never told you, did I?”

“Oh, Mingyu told me—“

“You know Mingyu?”

You lift your hands to place them on his shoulders firmly. “Let me finish first?”

Jeongguk smiles sheepishly, but nods to let you continue.

“Okay, um. I’m really sorry about earlier … the drama with Hyun and the— kissing…. I just couldn’t think and didn’t know what else to do. I’m really, very sorry.” You let your head drop, the weight of kissing a stranger starting to get to you.

Jeongguk is quiet. You’re conjuring up another speech of apology with some backstory to help you justify yourself, just in case he decides that your first apology isn’t enough.

“It’s okay.” Huh? “I liked kissing you, anyway.”

You choke on air. “Wh—at?”

“I liked kissing you.” Jeongguk smiles again, that same mirth still in his eyes. “You know, Star, for someone so confident in pulling me down for a kiss, you sure are stuttering a lot right now.” His smile turns into a teasing one. “Did you like kissing me too?”

The person next to you slams the washing machine door closed. “Get a room, people,” she hisses before walking out of the laundry room.

“Nice advice.” Jeongguk gestures to the retreating girl. “Should we, Star?”

Your eyes are round in shock, mortified at Jeongguk’s suggestion. Though, you suppose it’s karma for kissing a stranger only for your convenience. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, type of shit.

When you’re still frozen after five seconds, Jeongguk lets out a laugh. “I’m kidding, kidding! Oh, God, you look so scared. Seriously, though, it’s totally okay. You have nothing to be worried about.”

Despite the huge sigh you heave, you’re still not convinced. “Are you sure? I completely understand if you’re mad, though.”

“I’m gonna be mad if you keep apologizing,” Jeongguk says. “Or, if you feel that bad about it … you could pay me back with a date.”

This time, his smile is hopeful. “A date, where you could tell me your real name, how you know Mingyu, and the story about whoever the hell that was that interrupted our kiss.” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow teasingly. “Then, we could end it the way we started today … with a kiss. If you want?”

“Oh, well, if it’s to pay you back for the kiss, sure…” you trail off, feeling weird about how the situation has come to. “Damn, when you ask for my consent like that it makes me feel worse for not doing the same to kiss you earlier.” You physically face-palm.

“Since you feel so bad about that, do you want to ask for my consent now?” Jeongguk looks at you with his big, round eyes, appearing innocent like a child. You wonder if this is the same boy you just kissed some minutes ago.

“How, like, ‘Hey, Jeongguk, someone I don’t like just walked in, can I kiss you?’” you say, half giggling.

“Sounds like a mouthful, maybe just the last four words?” Jeongguk licks his lips.

You tilt your head in amazement, your lips curving up into a small smile. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes you can, Star,” comes Jeongguk’s reply, his hands going back to your jaw. He gives you a wink before dipping down.

“Yes, you can,” he whispers before kissing you once again.

Maybe now you’ll look forward to your weekly laundry schedule—after a day of two classes at campus and one shift at the coffee shop five bus stops away from where you live—on Wednesday nights.

Because on Wednesday nights, a certain boy with big, doe eyes and unruly hair does his laundry with his huge laundry basket and calls you Star. This Wednesday night, he kissed you—uh, you kissed him.

Next Wednesday night … you’d just have to wait and see.

a/n: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed this drabble while we wait for bangtan to come back :')) also you can give me feedback here! :D

[koushisbabie]

UWU I HONESTLY YOUR WORK SO MUCH this is my first time on this app so I don’t really know much about it ! Thank you for putting so much effort in every post ,can I request sugawara x reader (how he would react when you keep biting your lip out of anxiety until it bleed ,cause lately I have been doing it a lot

Sorry because my English is not very good anyway HAVE A GREAT DAY ❤️❤️

Oh my gosh I am so sorry I completely forgot I got this request. Thank you for requesting a fic, and thank you for the compliment, you are so sweet T_T Comments like this give me the motivation to write more and get more creative with my ideas. In saying that, I hope your anxiety and your lip biting has gotten better <3 I don't know if you're still active on here, but I've written a small drabble (it ended up long haha) here for you! I hope you like it <3

‘Yo, Suga!’

Suga’s head appears from behind the precariously stacked wall of books on the library table. ‘Yes?’

‘Geez, isn’t that overdoing it?’ Asahi chuckles, gesturing to the books.

‘Well, I guess so,’ Suga replies, ‘but exams are only a week away.’ He shuffles aside some of the haphazardly strewn books and papers and pens, giving Asahi and Daichi space to sit down.

‘Where’s Yn?’ Daichi asks, peering around.

‘She’s around,’ Suga replies, ‘I think she went to the bathroom…’

‘I’m right here!’ Yn pops their head around the shelves. ‘I’ve been looking for this damn book for twenty minutes now.’

‘Oh yeah, looks like a long read.’

‘Can’t be helped,’ Yn says, sitting down next to Suga. ‘Tuesday’s exam is going to kick my ass if I don’t absorb this entire book.’

‘Take it easy, Yn,’ Daichi says. ‘You look a little tired, have you been sleeping alright?’

Suga glances at Daichi, then at Yn.

‘Well, yeah, kind of,’ Yn replies, nudging Suga’s arm affectionately. ‘Usually after we call.’

‘Which reminds me, I need to send you the link to this video that explains chapter eight in a bit more detail,’ Suga says absentmindedly. ‘It’s forty five minutes long but there’s some good illustrations in it that highlight how complex–’

‘You guys seem busy,’ Asahi interjects politely. ‘We should be heading off, we’ll tell the others that you’re studying this afternoon.’

‘Oh no, it’s okay,’ Yn says, glancing at their phone. ‘I actually forgot I promised I’d be home to receive a package later.’

‘You’re leaving already?’

‘Sorry,’ Yn says, ‘I’ll call you tonight, though? We can go through the last of these notes together!’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Suga replies, squeezing Yn’s hand before turning back to his notes.

Yn hesitates, before gathering their things and disappearing between the aisles of books.

An awkward silence falls between the friends, before Daichi pipes up.

‘Hey, Suga, did you see how red Yn’s lips were?’

Suga looks up from his notes, his pen paused above the paper. ‘You noticed it, too?’

‘It wasn’t subtle…’ Asahi says, quietly. ‘To be honest, I think they had been bleeding.’

‘Bleeding?’ Suga’s face fills with shock. ‘I didn’t realise it was that bad. I thought it was just sunburn.’

Daichi and Asahi share a look.

‘Okay,’ Daichi says sternly. ‘I see what’s going on. You’re too focused on your studying, you’ve neglected Yn. Maybe you should put the books away and spend some quality time with them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Suga asks, a little hurt.

‘Daichi’s right… I think Yn is really stressed. A lot of lip biting is caused by anxiety… I haven’t seen it that bad before, and I’ve known them for years.’

Suga pauses thoughtfully. ‘You’re right. The books could wait.’

‘We just mean–’

‘I have an idea,’ Suga says, grinning. ‘Thank you for slapping some sense into me.’

Yn arrives home sweating and tired, the heavy books in their bag weighing painfully on their back. They abandon the bag in the hallway and head to the bathroom, the light soft against their skin. They peer at their lips, swollen like a blossoming red rose. The urge to bite is strong, the pain satisfying momentarily distracts them from the bubbling anxiety in their belly.

Exams were only a week away but with the high percentage of worth the marks carry, anxiety had been slithering throughout the schools hallways like a giant snake stalking its prey, following students home so they could not find respite, even in their beds.

A knock at the door sounds loud and urgent.

As Yn pulls the door open, Suga almost drops the stack of books in his arms and the bags at his elbows.

‘Oh, Yn!’ Suga grins. ‘Mind if I come in?’

‘Of course,’ Yn says, bewildered. ‘Let me help you.’

In the living room, Yn places the stack of books on the coffee table, wondering how Suga could manage getting through them all with practice almost every afternoon. Despite being as passionate about volleyball as the others, he could somehow find the time to study when he really wants to.

‘So,’ Yn says, falling into the crease of the soft couch, ‘what brought you here?’

Suga glances at them, his mouth in a small frown, the creases between his brows knitted. ‘Look,’ he begins, ‘I have noticed that you’ve been a little… out of sorts, lately.’

Yn frowns, fidgeting in their lap with their fingers.

‘I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re less than beautiful, by the way!’ Suga says quickly, placing his hands on either side of Yn’s face.

Yn’s cheeks begin to flush. ‘What do you mean?’ They squeak.

Suga hesitates. ‘You’re doing it right now –’ Suga pauses, pointing at Yn’s lips, ‘you’re biting your lip too much!’

Yn swallows hard. ‘Oh. I hoped you wouldn’t notice.’

Suga smiles softly. ‘It took me a few moments to really see it.’ He hesitates. ‘I was too focused on studying, when I should have been looking out for you. I’m sorry.’

‘No, it’s okay!’ Yn blushes. ‘You’re here now! And it’s just anxiety, I mean, it’s always there, what can you do?’

‘Well…’ Suga says, turning to the coffee table. ‘I’m not sure if any of this will help, but I wanted to make up for not being one hundred percent there for you when you’re anxious.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘These are just some small gifts,’ Suga says. He opens the thick paper bags, revealing a fluffy blanket, a few lip balms, a small box of tea, a journal, and all of Yn’s favourite snacks. ‘I know it’s not much, and it can’t fix your anxieties completely, BUT I do think that tea will help, and maybe you can journal some of your worries and one of these lip balms is good for deterring lip biting, I think,’ Suga says quickly. ‘And of course, the blanket is for when it gets cooler and we can play games or something, together.’

A comfortable silence fills the room. Yn processes the gesture slowly, their eyes welling, their chest swelling with butterflies.

‘Oh no,’ Suga says, pulling Yn into a hug, pressing them to his chest. ‘I’m sorry, was it too much?’

Yn breathes in his scent, the clean soapy smell mixed with the day’s activities. Familiarity and safety is how Yn would describe Suga and his hugs, the gesture alone could deter them from the worries that plagued their mind.

‘This is too nice,’ Yn murmurs. ‘It’s just a bitten lip, why are you doing so much over that?’

‘Well, I don’t know what’s going on in the background – I’d like to,’ he says quietly. ‘I’d like to sit here and listen to you talk about what’s worrying you, if you’d let me. You never have to, if you aren't comfortable, but I’m always here.’

‘I get it now,’ Yn says, sniffling. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you because I know you’ve been busy too. Exam season gets us all, doesn’t it?’

Suga laughs. ‘It does, but it’s my job to also look after you.’

‘Does it bother you?’ Yn asks quietly. ‘My lips…’

‘Well, it looks a little painful,’ Suga replies. ‘I’d hate for you to endure the pain or get an infection. That’s why I picked up the lip balm specifically for healing lips,’ he says, reading the back of the lip balm.

Yn curls into the crook of Suga’s arm, peering at the lip balm. Suga takes Yn’s chin, and tilts their head upward, gently applying the lip balm to their lips. The cooling sensation spreads over their lips like a lovely cool breeze. ‘It feels pretty good so far, thank you. Thank you for this. I never expect you to do anything for me, but this has made me feel a lot better – just knowing you care. That you’re here for me. Thank you.’

Suga smiles warmly, squeezing Yn against his chest. ‘If none of this helps you feel less anxious, I’ll just have to squish the anxieties out of you!’

‘Well,’ Yn squeaks, ‘I wouldn’t mind the cuddles!’

[annawayne]

Heeelllo anna! I didn't see you reblog it but I want to know your take anyway!

If you were to write a canon-divergence Aruani fic, what would you change (doesn't have to be related to Aruani specifically) and how would that go??

Hello Moon!

First of all, yes, I didn't reblog this post, and I'm very touched you wanted to listen to my opinion anyway, thank you so much T^T

As for your question, sorry, it took me a few days, since I was thinking about various scenarios which were in my head, and tried to distinguish all the thoughts from one tight knot of brainstorm, so I can answer your asks properly. Apologies for taking so long T_T

I decided to focus on that canon-divergence idea where Armin actually confronts Annie of being a Female Titan earlier than that day in Stohess.

In this scenario, both AruAni had more of the show-case of their feelings for each other in the past: they didn't talk properly about their relationship, however the long evenings together in the library, longing gazes across the room, comfortable silence when they felt the most safe, even one time a hug that were out of bitter despair - from Annie's side, after one of her night missions and after she was almost caught by Kenny or by some guards, so when it happened, all she felt was to hide, even for a moment, from everything. When she saw Armin - always caring, considerate and looking out for her - her exhaustion took over her and she hugged him, trying to convey in her helpless grip all the confused and stormy feelings she wasn't sure herself, and yet, she knew that to get lost in his embrace, at that particular moment was what she needed the most. There was no vocalized "what are we" moment, but the connection they shared was too strong to let it simply fade.

So, when the time comes, and their ways part, they both made a promise - to write each other the letters. It was Armin idea, almost like a plea - and Annie felt the sour taste on her tongue to say "No" to him, not when her heart screamed about the same and her soul begged for her to say "Yes", but instead, she just nodded, not able to mutter the word, to make it even more real that it already was - in her heart, it was already blooming, the young flower with the bluest petals, the name of which she didn't know, so intense and so alive, that she knew if she would water this flower with any proper promise, with any visible weakness, these petals would just choke her to death - death of the Warrior Annie Leonheardt, and instead, there would be just Annie, someone she didn't know at all. Just Annie was a stranger for her, terrifying and so foreign. Warrior Annie won the battle this time. But Just Annie won the war, as she would learn it much later.

All this time apart, they exchange letters - or better say, Armin wrote to her, like he promised, even sending her one day a small flower with the bluest petals so strangely reminding her the one that was growing inside her heart, and wrote to her that "it reminded me of you". And so Annie broke, writing him in response - she tried her best to distance herself, not to attach too much, but it was already too late. So when, the 57 expedition happens, she saw Armin for the first time after their ways parted - she hoped that the distance would help her, and even if there were letters between them, the physical distance made her believe that she's doing just fine. So when she sees him like that, removing his hood, looking at her with not the caring - and she even realizes, loving gaze of his - it also terrifies her to feel the strong, acute ping in her heart. "Since when did you start looking at me with these eyes?", she thought, and her massive fingers simply unclasped from his green hood, and she runs away. Something, she used to when she's not strong enough to face something she doesn't understand, but as she runs away, the Earth trembling under her titanic feet, all she could think that she could cross oceans and mountains all around the world outside the Walls of Paradis, but she would never run away from herself.

After all the mess that happens during the expedition, Annie return to her room, Hitch no in sight. Annie feels utterly broken and devastated from everything, lost and lonely - she failed to capture Eren and return to home; she failed to be a "good friend" to Armin, looking at the pile of letters of him, and remembering that she sent him only two or three; she failed to be a Warrior. She failed to be even herself because she simply doesn't know what to do anymore, with nobody on her side.

So when Armin comes deep in the night, Annie feels like she's seeing a ghost - she couldn't just believe to see Armin Arlert - out of all people, dammit! - in her window, his breath heavy and chest raising with every deep inhale he tries to swallow, his cheeks flushed - probably from climbing - hair messy. And it strikes her. It strikes her just how much she missed him, and how big of a fool she is.

But Annie doesn't fall into his arms. She does what she knows the best - confront. Attack. Stay aside. Stay indifferent. Don't show anything. She tries. But Armin pleads, and asks her to talk to him.

Annie feels like she is in the corner with nowhere to run, she knows HE knows, and just but the habit, she takes her ring, the pointed blade already out.

But she doesn't have a possibility to cut herself. Armin envelops her hands with his - suddenly, she realizes, bigger than hers - his blood flowing on her hands, as he presses his palms into hers.

"Annie, please. Let's talk. We didn't even have a possibility to talk."

And it breaks her. The same words Marco said to her, to Reiner and Bert, when she was removing his ODM gear.

It was the last drop for her.

She didn't say too much to him that night. She just asked him, "What do you want from me?"

He said nothing. Except for, "I just want to understand you, Annie. Always did."

What comes next - is a difficult process of proving herself to Paradise forces. She is in prison, she has a lot of interrogations, and Armin by her side. Never leaving her. Always listening to her and trying to understand, like he said. One day, she learns that he put himself as a "guardian" of her, he said that if she would turn away from them - he would pay with his life.

She realizes that he believed in her much more than she has ever believed in herself.

All this time, there's a lot of pining. Tension. Unspoken feelings that are now more difficult to hide. Eventually, she becomes the part of Survey Corps, working with Paradisian, in total secret from the society, just the small bunch of trusted soldiers.

I will stop here because otherwise it would turn into a very big longread, but I think it's quite enough for canon-divergence, heh.

Thank you so much for your question and your interest, Moon(⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡ I hope I didn't disappoint you with this answer

[sandara-and-coco]

Hey there, lovely folks! 💖

I wanted to give you all a little update on what's happening with my art and why you might not see as much from me in the coming weeks. Unfortunately, I injured my wrist on a family trip a few days ago and it will take a bit of time to heal properly. But fear not, I haven't forgotten about my art attacks most of them are prepared but are probably not gonna be ready and out until the end of july!

While the mtas update is still delayed I will continue to work on Sandara backstory with the little storyboard I have prepared as I would like to see how Logan romance will play out before sharing too much of the fluffy stuff I drew for him and my builder (although I can still show some of the sketchy wip if you guys would like to see some previews I have so many of them lol and not be able to finish theses is really frustrating rn T_T )

So keep an eye out for those, as they'll be coming your way sooner or later!

I appreciate your understanding during this time. Healing takes time, but rest assured, I'm doing everything I can to recover and get back to drawing. I'm grateful for this incredible community and the joy you bring to my artistic journey 💗

Thank you for your patience, and I promise to return once my wrist is all better. Until then, take care and I wish you all an awesome summer !

[thatdesklamp]

Hello! i hope you feel better today. I was wondering since you are taking requests if you could write something set in the future? -not 2018☠️but maybe 2016?- especially we have more angst coming up in current IW? I just want happy and in love hebixsatoru 😭

Ooh I wish I could but I’m still mindful of like.. IW spoilers?? If that’s a thing for fanfic?? Essentially I have a big long plan for it and I don’t properly want to mess with that a huge amount, I’m sorry T_T however I do have something happy in my head for between 2010-2011, which is them firmly as adults so hopefully I can offer that as a good compromise???

Just know that you will be getting so so much happy hebixsatoru as full adults in later IW chapters, i pinkie promise. If I’m right in my estimations I’m pretty sure the final chapter will be like… 20, 30k words. Like, minimum. It’ll be a huge one but they will be SO HAPPY I PROMISE

[onlyswan]

summary: in which your feet are hurting but jungkook’s little joys in life are top priority.

> fluff / wc: 2.1k

note: i wrote this really quick because i just wanted to a break from writing essays and research T_T bare with meeee my brain will work better once school is over </3

—

you’ve always found the concept of the butterfly effect fascinating. you could’ve sworn it was only yesterday when you and jungkook were comparing hand sizes like two stupid fools who get giddy over the slightest of touches and the briefest glides of skin against skin - too doubtful and afraid to confess their growing fondness for each other.

you start reminiscing back to the very beginning of your blossoming love like that - gradually spacing out in wonder about how you ended up in this position exactly. two years and five months later. watching your boyfriend fight a claw machine as if he’s carrying a personal vendetta against it.

“babe, seriously, just try the bear. a small nudge and it will fall right down.” you try reasoning with him after he failed to get the yellow duck stuffed toy four times in a row.

“we already have a lot of bears at home. but you know what we don’t have?” with widened eyes and knitted eyebrows, he points at his target. “a duck!” his index finger leaves a print on the glass.

“we both know these machines are rigged.” you whine out, subtly resting your weight against the claw machine in a poor attempt to rest your aching boot-clad feet. however, when you feel it lean a little bit to the other side, you quickly step back in fear of leaving the machine smashed into pieces on the cold tiled floor and you, in debt to the arcade place owner. you just have to deal with the pain of fashion, instead of paying for it.

life is difficult because you can’t afford it.

“i’ve already won prizes here, i promise! we just have to be patient. trust me.”

you shake your head with a smile forming on your lips, the sigh you’ve been holding back vanishing beneath it. “fine. exchange for more coins.”

you don’t have patience for most things, especially not for claw machines. and well, also for most people. but jungkook is the only exception. and so, you stretch your ankles inside your boots and pull your unzipped zip-up jacket tighter around your body. the small arcade is just along the highway. you pass by it every day and every day night, to and from work.

today is a saturday. you spent the afternoon with jungkook shopping at the mall to reward yourself with this month’s hard earned money. you passed by the arcade on the way home, as usual. what made today different, however, was you being dragged inside because the new whack-a-mole machine caught the eyes of your eternal child at heart boyfriend.

he spent about fifteen minutes whacking moles, the smile on his face gradually shaping into a gape when he realized his scores were close to beating the high score. just by seeing that look on his face, you already knew you weren’t leaving the damn arcade until he sets the new record high. and so, you stole a chair from one of spots for the fishing game machine and let him do what he had to do. the shopping bags were resting between your legs to prevent them from falling, but you chose to put the new shoes you bought jungkook on your lap. you feel protective of it in some way.

after two more rounds, he beat the high score. that’s your jungkook. he achieves everything he sets his mind into. he doesn’t give up. he doesn’t get dispirited. he tries and tries again until it becomes a natural reflex to do well. and you’re always by his side, cheering him on.

and so when he gave you his famous ‘i want to try that’ sparkling bambi eyes the moment he saw the claw machine standing outside, you immediately placed the shopping bags on the ground. it might look and sound stupid, but trivial activities like this matter to you. you want to spend as much as time possible with your boyfriend. it doesn’t matter to you what it is he wants to do, because you never want him to feel shy or embarrassed about the things he enjoy.

you’re thankful that today, it’s wanting a duck stuffed toy from a claw machine instead of hanging upside down on the famous swing of new zealand. dear god, the most horrifying possibilities swirled and crashed around your brain aimlessly. never have you prayed so desperately to the heavens in your life until that day came.

needless to say, the range of his hobbies and interests remains fascinating years into your relationship.

at last, after a total of eight tries, the duck gets lifted by the claw, but the yellow stuffed toy slips away from it as it ascends. “ah shit- i almost had it.” he closes his eyes, tilting his head to the side as annoyance starts to creep into his nerves.

“that was so close, baby. it landed flat so maybe the weight is balanced now.” you have no idea if your words make sense at all, but he takes them as encouragement based on the determined nod he gives you.

“this is the last coin.” he informs you, showing you the silver coin between his index and middle finger. he takes a deep breath, the small dimples on the upper corner of his mouth and the long and deep dimples on his cheeks making a brief appearance. you’ve always found it enchanting, how he doesn’t need to smile for his dimples to show. he’s just the prettiest person to ever exist. your pretty boy. you want to spend the rest of your life adoring his every feature.

he inserts the coin in the slot, rubbing his hands together after. “duckie, you’re coming home with us!” it sounds more like a threat than a cheerful affirmation, making you laugh out loud.

“stop scaring it away!”

“it’s the one being mean to me.” he whines loudly, lips forming a permanent pout. his doe eyes turn into crescent moons as he squints, all of his energy focused on maneuvering the claw at the (hopefully) correct position above the duck.

you hide a wince, shifting your feet to subtly alleviate the pain. unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work at all. it has been a long day after all.

he blows a breath of air while you hold in yours; funny enough, that small moment highlights the differences between the two of you.

“do you really want it that bad?” you ask him, tone saying ‘if you ask me for the stars, i’ll give you the night sky itself.’

“yes.” he juts out his bottom lip and looks at you briefly. and then finally, he taps the green round button — his hand so big that only the half of his three longest fingers covers it entirely.

and well . . . that’s when your mind and body decide to simultaneously act faster than jungkook can comprehend.

it is a natural reflex. to give jungkook what he wants. the second you see that the duck is about to slip from the claw like it did earlier, the idea sparks in your brain and your hands swiftly execute the message with uncontrolled strength.

right, you push the machine so hard that the claw swings to the side and flings the duck straight to the square box. it falls all the way down, behind the small glass window at the very bottom where the player is supposed to claim their prize.

thankfully, the machine doesn’t fall all the way down. it springs back into its previous position, the remaining toys toppling over each other. you’re also lucky that the people inside the arcade are too loud and too busy in their own little transparent bubbles to notice the dangerous form of cheating that occured only a few meters away.

“AH! what the fu-” he stumbles two steps back, eyes as wide as saucers as he watches the scene unfold.

you swallow thickly, heart almost jumping out of your chest from how fast it’s beating. when your eyes meet, you smile at him awkwardly and shakily put up your hands in surrender. “oops. my hands slipped.”

“oh my god, i’m so in love with you.” he crosses the distance between the two of you to pepper your face with kisses, his arms circling around your waist to lift up your feet from the ground.

the intimate feeling of his smile against your skin and his laughter vibrating against your body — ah, the sweetest prize.

“alright, alright. go get your duckie before it gets stolen by some kid.” you giggle, tapping his shoulders to tell him to put you down. he does that exactly, but he doesn’t move from his spot until he grabs your face to give you one final kiss on the lips.

you release the breath you’ve been holding in, shrugging off your jacket to leave it hanging around your arms. the rush of adrenaline, dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin coursing through your body has left you breathless.

your boyfriend pops up infront of you once again, this time trying his best to make his pout as big as possible to copy the beak of the duck he’s holding beside his face.

you can’t resist giving him a small kiss. “you’re so cute.” you smile at him lovingly, brushing his hair back with your fingers. “wanna go home now?”

he nods his head enthusiastically, taking your hand to make you hold the stuffed toy. “you hold duckie for now.” then he reaches behind you to gather the shopping bags he left in your care while he was playing.

“what are you doing down there?” you ask in confusion when he squats down infront of you.

he cranes his head to meet your clueless eyes. “your feet must be hurting, baby. i’ll carry you home.”

and that’s when the pain that’s been bothering you for the past hour comes back with full force. can’t believe i almost forgot. now it feels like it hurts even more.

you climb on his back without second thought, giving him a kiss on the cheek once he stands back up. “my super strong boyfriend, thank you.” you don’t deny jungkook when he offers to do something for you. that hurts his feelings the most, you’ve noticed a long time ago. praises, on the other hand, are what he thrives off from.

he smirks proudly, clicking his tongue. “that’s me!”

jungkook hasn’t walked that far away yet when you hear two young voices bickering loudly. you look back in curiosity to find two elementary students, a girl and a boy.

“just push the machine from that side! like this!” the girl instructs, pushing the air with her small hands. the boy looks at her with uncertainty, nervously glancing inside the arcade.

“wait- baby, stop for a bit.”

“huh?” jungkook makes a noise of confusion, stopping on his tracks. his body shifts to face the side, tracing the direction your eyes are trained to.

“i really don’t think we should be doing that. it’s cheating!” he scolds her before tugging her hand to force her to just walk past the place.

“why not?! i saw that girl do it. they got the duck!”

“and so? that was the last duck, dummy.”

“did i even say that i want the duck? i want that!” she points at brown-spotted animal.

“the giraffe?”

she nods her head, quivering lips forming a big frown. she’s dangerously close to the verge of crying, the little boy realizes. he freezes at his spot to ponder his options, looking at the machine and the girl back and forth.

“what have i done?” you mutter in disdain, your forehead dropping on jungkook’s shoulder.

“shit, my stomach hurts.” he doubles over from laughter with tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. the result of your impulsive actions is visually playing before him. you reply with a grunt, tightening your arms and legs around his body to prevent yourself from falling.

“yah! stop laughing.” you cry out, jokingly hitting his back with your fist. “let’s go home. i can’t watch this unfold.”

he continues walking to the opposite direction, getting farther and farther away from the two little kids. however, his cheeks are beginning to hurt because for the life of him, he can’t stop fucking laughing.

you sigh dramatically, leaning your cheek against his. “the things i do for you.”

he snorts. “hey, do you remember that one time i climbed and stole from a stranger’s mango tree for you?”

you stifle a gasp. “that never happened.”

it’s his turn to sigh. “i could’ve gotten arrested for that, you know?”

he can’t see you, but he can feel your grin. “but i know you’d do it for me again if i asked.”

his quick reply makes your breath get caught up in your lungs, your stomach turning into knots. “oh baby, i’d steal the fucking mona lisa from the louvre if you ask me to.”

—

taglist! @lolalee24 @alanniys @jjkeverlast + send an ask if you want to get included in the taglist :D

[livingalifeofasimp]

☘️𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖙

𝕴𝖓

🎀𝕴𝖘𝖊𝖐𝖆𝖎 𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖆🎀

You got teleported into a Novel called Love or Hate, where a villianess of an influencing family gets jealous of people around Crown Prince and tries to kill everyone especially his beloved and meets unfortunate death.

𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

Click on the link for more information, If the link doesn't work then please be kind enough to inform me, Thank you💮💮💮

🖤 𝓩𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲

*:･ﾟ♛ ﾟ･:* On getting into the novel as Villianess and not being able to go back to your world you decided to stop going down the path of original Novel Plot but make your own and live a life in luxury away from all the characters. Your first step was to break the engagement with Crown Prince, who was surprised when he heard you say that to him, you were just so in love with him and then after being unconscious for almost a week you decided to break off the engagement.

*:･ﾟ♛ ﾟ･:* Zhongli could not understand why you would do such thing and you knew he will fall in love with the Heroine when she appears, you told your father to annual it, since you understood that the affection holds no value in Crown Prince's eyes, but Zhongli wasn't able to digest this piece of information, when he tries to approach you, you run away, avoid him at any cost, he realizes how important you are to him, so he rejects your request to annual the engagement even after you nearly begged him and promises you that he will cherish you now on, leaving you thinking what went wrong.

*:･ﾟ♛ ﾟ･:* You sat with pen and paper tried to sort everything out, although Crown Prince was trying to win your favor back by sending you gifts, letters and asks for your audience only to get ghosted by you, getting involved with him will give you nothing but a miserable fate, no matter how handsome the Characters are you refused to acknowledge them any further. Now it felt like Zhongli clingys to you more than anything.

💛𝓐𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻

ﾟ･:*༻*:･ﾟWhen your carriage stopped infront of your state you saw Aether was there waiting for you, he told you that he heard you were trying to annual the engagement, for a minute you forgot how fast news spread in this era, Aether had a happy glow on his face, he told you that you deserve better. At some point you knew that Aether grows distant from Villianess in Novel Plot but the case here was totally different now he invites you or comes to you uninvited.

ﾟ･:*༻*:･ﾟYou don't stop him tho, he became your bestfriend, he taught you horse riding, sword fighting and helped you in all those things you were interested in. Thanks to Aether your bad dancing got better, you always wondered how he never go tired dancing with you, when you step on his foot unintentionally during practices. Physical touches increases slightly, you don't doubt it since it's normal for friends to hug a second more right?

❤️𝓓𝓲𝓵𝓾𝓬

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Since there was nothing better to do, you started to put your hands on family business and was sent to pay visit to the business partner. To your surprise when you saw Diluc, he looked just like the Novel described him to be, stern, stoic and cold. His presence was intimidating but you had to win this opportunity so you confidently placed your views even when your legs were shaking under the gown you were wearing, you put your hands together and pursued him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Diluc seemed so lonely, he had no one to worry about him, just him and his thoughts. So you decided to greet him with smile and ask about if he ate his meals properly because he skipped them for one or two days due to his loads of work, which was bad for his health, if he needed to fight with Crown Prince for Heroine then he should be healthy, so you took care of him while you were staying in his Mansion.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ At first he was wary of you but he eventually warmed up and when Diluc laughed in one of your jokes, you felt grateful to witness that because no one saw him smiling other than Heroine, he looked really beautiful. He said you were way too different than what the rumours described you to be, you were perfect. 

💚𝓧𝓲𝓪𝓸

✥ ۪۪۫۫◃ ✤◃ ۪۪۫۫✥ Bandits attached your Carriage, it was difficult to defeat them but with your escort and Aether's sword fighting training it became quite easy, even though you are not much of a sword fighter than Aether but you could protect yourself for once. When Crown Prince heard you were attacked he immediately assigned you his Loyal Knight who later becomes Imperial Knight respected by citizens, to which you obviously rejected but as persistent as he is you were made to accept the Knight for the time being since all the knights in your family are either afraid of you or not want to serve you and you had no fetish with working with someone who is not willing to be with you.

✥ ۪۪۫۫◃ ✤◃ ۪۪۫۫✥Xiao was very quite and skilled Knight so he was very attentive to your needs, and once caughted you, when you tripped on your gown while climbing staircase, due to which he got on his one knees and asked for your forgiveness. It left you speechless why would he do such thing? Ask for punishment instead of a thanks for saving your bones, you couldn't help but ask him, Xiao's answer made you clutch your fingers, he thought you, a noble lady would get disgusted by his touch since he is lowly born.

✥ ۪۪۫۫◃ ✤◃ ۪۪۫۫✥ You asked him to stand, Xiao is your favorite character who suffered so much and was never able to voice his love for Heroine, you holded his hands in yours, ignoring his body flinching and told him how he should not look down on himself, he is equal, everyone is equal since you all are humans and that you cherish him, he put his life to protect you. You said him all those things you wanted to when you read the Novel, not everything really but it left him blushing while you laughed walking ahead of him what a tsundere.

💙𝓚𝓪𝓮𝔂𝓪

☽༓✮･*˚ A handsome Mage Master kept on disturbing you, the smug looking guy who you meet in Local bars when you were out exploring about the Novel world, he helped you with your case to find out the solution to obtain the land for the project with Duke while giving you many riddles that exhausted you but seeing a worried Xiao was worth it when he says I don't care after nagging you for hours.

☽༓✮･*˚ You doubted if this guy was the one of the Male Leads who was owner of Mage tower because he was exceptional handsome, for a side Character to be so good looking is quite rare, but he debuted after the Grand ball so it couldn't be him, you debated. In Original Novel Plot they never described how he looked, but it was for sure he was popular among ladies. The guy introduced himself as Kaeya, who sometimes requests your presence in Mage tower, only VIP guest were allowed and when you asked him how he managed to get the permission he says it is one of his ways, suspicious enough.

☽༓✮･*˚ You eventually spend more time with him than required which sometimes anger Aether since your time with him reduced, of course you haven't told anything about him to anyone. To save himself, he once introduced you to the group of women flirting with him as his girlfriend. Kaeya sends his familiar in butterfly form for the most stupidest message through your window to which you react differently depending on your mood. 

"How are you my Lady?"

"Am I allowed to miss you?"

"When will you visit me?"

"Have you been using me all this time?, I am heart broken T_T Heal me!"

🧡𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓮

❀⑅*⋆༶⋆❀⑅* Strong hand holded you securely, as you danced with him, who was wearing black laced mask in Masquerade ball organized by King for a yearly festival which you were forced you to attend by your Father and Crown Prince. One of the guys asked for you to dance with him, as per tradition one cannot reject the another requesting party, otherwise you would have been eating the food served for guests, imperial food is on another level, Zhongli sometimes tries to lure you to spend time with him by making such excuses.

❀⑅*⋆༶⋆❀⑅* The stranger pulled you even more closer saying that you are looking much more prettier than before, your first meeting but you did not recognized him or so you thought, and he told you that you are known as the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom, neighboring Kingdoms takes interest in you. You do remember the guy who helped you in fighting with Bandits both of them have the same hair color and playfulness in their voice.

❀⑅*⋆༶⋆❀⑅* When you asked him about it, if he was the guy from before to which he replied maybe, leaving you in the middle of the dance and bended in the crowd, Mysterious as Childe you thought, whoever he was, you hoped for him to not bring more problems than you already have. A groaning voice of Crown Prince from behind made you turn around questioning you why you danced with other guys than your fiance, you never thought a composed man as Zhongli would whine to you for such a small thing.

[your-average-weeb-dealer]

Come pick me up I just need some comfort T_T

me too babes- me too. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while  

Kny characters comforting their s/o 

Anime: Demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba 

Style: Short headcannons (theres a lot of people so-) 

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None! Maybe minor cursing (my bad)  

Tanjiro- 

You cannot look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn’t good at comforting people

C’mon, he had five siblings 

He won’t pressure you to say anything, instead he’ll just hold you

Don’t worry, this man has seen tears- feel free to cry your heart out 

He’s so sweet about everything, when your finished crying he’ll ask you what’s wrong. Again, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to

“Y/n, everything will be ok. I promise. I love you so much,” 

Zenitsu-

he’s either crying with you or freaking out

Y/N STOP CRYING, PLEASE! I CAN’T STAND IT! SOMEONE SO BEAUTIFUL SHOULDN’T HAVE TO CRY! NOT EVER! 

He’ll shower you with even more affection (is that even possible?)

If he’s crying with you he’ll insist that you hold him. 

He’ll cry and cry while telling you how much he loves you

It would get to the point where you’d stop crying and he still would be 

“Y/NNnnn -sobs- I LoVe Youu soo m- -sniffles- mUCHhHHhHHH! -sobs-” 

2 hours later 

“-sniffle- thank you for comforting me -sniffle- Y/n” 

Inosuke-

Pffft what do you think- he sucks at comforting people

But! That doesn’t mean he won’t try

He’ll circle around you telling you how awesome you are 

It makes him feel better, so shouldn’t you feel better?!

He’s tried making you a mask like his, and in that moment he gave it to you

He’ll passive aggressively tell you that he loves you 

“Here! take this! It’s a mask- like mine. Only I made it out of rabbit fur, cause you're like a little, defenceless rabbit!” (Inosuke)

 “I- is that a compliment?” (you) 

Just take the mask, I promise he means well 

Nezuko-

butterfly kisses, just everywhere. All over your face

Huggies, lots of hugs

Reassuring headpats

She can’t talk because of the muzzle so she’ll just show you that she loves you

she might get Tanjiro to help comfort you, he always knows what to do! He can help!

She’ll cuddle you until you feel better, until you do she isn’t leaving your side 

“Mmmh! MmmH!” *nuzzles her face into your shoulder* (it means “I love you”) 

Giyuu-

Poor baby doesn’t know what to do

He’s never been in a situation where he has to comfort people. Because well- he never really had a person to comfort

He’ll (awkwardly) hold you 

After holding you for a while (by the way, he hasn’t said a word. I mean this bitch is dead silent) He’ll mumble a few words about how much he loves you

As he gets more and more comfortable with the atmasphere in the room, he’ll go over every. single. reason. why he loves you

Like he has a list hidden away somewhere

“Oh and your eyes. I really love your eyes- but your smile is definitely my favorite. Next is your hands I love them because...” 

Shinobu- 

She braids your hair

When she was younger her older sister braided her hair whenever she was sad

She’ll braid your hair, her long delicate hands weaving through your hair

Even if you had really short hair, she’ll still try to braid it

And if she can’t, she’ll just run her hands through it, massaging you scalp 

She’ll hum a little song, her gentle words helping you fall asleep

Eventually  you do, and she lets you sleep for as long as you need

“Oh! your asleep, well then, I’ll try not to wake you my sweet y/n,” 

Sanemi- 

It hurts him so much to see you cry

He’s lost so many people and now someone he really- genuinly loves. Is upset

He doesn’t really know what to do

He’ll hug you of course but he probably won’t say anything

To be honest it was kinda a shock that he even hugged you

After you felt better there would be a loving glow in the air

Mitsuri-

Expect to be smothered 

she’ll cover you head to toe in kisses

At that moment she’d literally do anything for you, as long as you felt better it didn’t matter

Cuddles- so, so many cuddles.

She’d tell you all the built up compliments she had saved

“A-and that one time where you were yelling at Senami you looked so hot- Oh! and when you were..” 

Obanai- 

Ahaha- what?

“You good?” (Obanai)

*brief pause*

“Yeah. I’m just crying for fun.” (you) 

In all seriousness, he doesn’t do anything, he waits til your done and then talks to you 

Sorry If I didn’t get to your fav character, this took way longer than I thought it would. I can do a part two like just of demons and/or people I’ve forgotten 

[highladyluck]

Wheel of Time 01x06 liveblog

Teaser:

Why is Alanna always eating fruit, is this a metaphor or what

Bring Your Children To Work Day is going well, I see

Shunning rituals! WE CONSTRUCT INTRICATE RITUALS TO TOUCH THE SKIN OF OUR GAY LOVER

I was promised homoeroticism and I better get it

Sea Folk? ooooh baby Siuan. Ooof, Tear really does not like channelers.

AL'NATIO!!! I guess it really is Siuan's theme, specifically. I still like my more general translation, though.

We have FISHY SAYINGS, I REPEAT, WE HAVE FISHY SAYINGS

She's so baby T_T

"Fish touch the moon's reflection every night" damn girl you got poetry and a refreshingly can-do attitude towards teaching male channelers doing the impossible

She comes, she comes! If your showverse Moiraine/Siuan fic doesn't include this phrase echoed at a crucial moment, then what the fuck are you even doing, go write Perrin/Mat instead if you need to get your gay on

THE OUTFITS

Moiraine like: "my hot GF is the pope"

Leane please step on me

Tower guards or Accepted?

Oh my god she sounds like Siuan should

Aes Sedai are unpopular, noted. Siuan like "I won't be goaded"

Siuan that's kinda fucked up, but otoh really sets up some parallels

Mmmm, a Green defending a Red (for the sake of a Green), got some shakeups in the standard politics maybe

"Laws exist to protect people from us" what an interesting thing to say- like, absolutely correct, but there are certain other countries that would say the same thing and mean it entirely differently, certain other countries that were already reminding me of Tear

Liandrin like *pouty face* "I wish mommy would yell at someone besides me"

Moiraine and Siuan staging a homoerotic drama to put Liandrin off the scent

"I will think on your penance" -> it's gonna be gay af

Why is Alanna always eating fruit, is this a metaphor or what

Tar Valon as Constantinople, I want to go to there T_T

Ooooooooh it's trauma time for my boy :) my stupid boy :) :) :)

I love how Rand is like "You'll have to go through me" and Lan is like "that's sweet but I'm going to disarm you now"

The way the black gunk interacts with the weaves almost looks like magnetic fields- kind of repelled and compelled at once- and I look forward to more special effects of that nature in future seasons [eyes emoji]

Give Barney an Oscar

"I would do it for any of you" love this Moirane and Rand sort of bonding moment

"He's stronger than he has any right to be" THAT'S MY STUPID BOY

Iiiiiinteresting so she's healed him of the dagger connection, but he can't touch it again or it's probably curtains. [So, knowing Mat, I would assume we are on track for the usual shenanigans... wait, y'all, what are the odds Mat ends up introducing the falcon to the party in this iteration? I want them to be friends.]

"Feeding on a darkness in him" wtf is that all about, though?

*nods to Rafe* This bisexual thanks you for Moiraine side butt [typing this now I have to confess that this is seared into my brain and I'm gonna be horny forever, also I originally left out those disappearing ships from my notes, which should confirm exactly how distracted I was]

When will people learn that you can't keep Moiraine in the Tower? She's like Mat, if you try to trap her she will run away

More Aes Sedai truthiness, on poor Egwene too, rude

Oh Egwene, count no one in this series dead until you see the body buried, and then check for supernatural allegiances XD

"It'll be like it never happened" Moiraine, honey, that's not how profound emotional trauma works

Moiraine like "Please don't tell anyone Perrin is a werewolf, they'd take it the wrong way"

"You masked our bond." "I'm delegating." "You're getting laid is what you're doing."

GIVE. ME. THE. GAY.

Guessing T'A'R? [later thoughts- my best guess is a ter'angreal that creates a construct space, like vacuoles or something]

Moiraine is a power bottom

yaaaaay someone is swearing by the Light!

I love the theme of untrustworthy data, incomplete information, etc

"You little pufferfish" omfg what an adorable petname for Moiraine I'm dead

"I'll kill them myself before I let him have them." yessss classic Moiraine lines

Siuan as a Dreamer? I'll accept it

eeeeey it's the plot, Dark One and the Eye of the World, which appears to be kind of Bore-like in this instance (no one make fun of the Dragon later when they make the speech, you know the one- in this turning Moiraine really is setting them up to think that!)

Moiraine like "please exile me, in any Turning of the Wheel I need to get out of this place"

"In this life or the next" MY HEART

Got some clumsy blackmail on Liandrin [The man in North Harbor- I've seen speculation this is Fain, but tbh it could be any bad guy or even related to those ship disappearances that got mentioned in the bath scene. Whoever it is, I will eat Mat's horrible coat if it's a romantic liaison.]

Moiraine gets her pun in: "A Way to surmount it"

"Confusing to have the woman and the throne named the same thing" *froths at the mouth* I *need* to write that Egwene and The Problematic Fave parallels essay, what delicious foils they are to each other

Omg, these actresses, Nyn is perfect, so is Egg

Bring Your Children To Work Day is going well, I see

Nyn vs Siuan is so fun "Then you must have very low standards"

"The Wheel doesn't care what you want, the only thing that matters is what you do" [Mat rejects your determinism! Mat rejects your determinism so hard he yeets himself out of the storyline XD]

You could cut the sexual tension with a knife

Swearing fealty on the oath rod to the judgement of the Amyrilin Seat... but Moiraine makes it VERY GAY and & specific to one person. That's a smart strategic choice, but also sets a precedent for oaths sworn to the person rather than the seat, at least if anyone else heard. [eyeballs emoji]

Shunning rituals! WE CONSTRUCT INTRICATE RITUALS TO TOUCH THE SKIN OF OUR GAY LOVER

It's Waygate time, bitches

Moiraine is such a horse girl

The gang's back together!

Am I reading too much into this or is this a ship tease between Mat and Perrin? Mat has such bisexual energy in this show and I do actually support it, I just literally can't believe I kinda ship Mat and Perrin

*Everyone* is a horse girl

WHO IS GONNA TAKE CARE OF MANDARB??? And Bela I guess

Rand's "are you shitting me" face is so good, he's like "Wait, you don't know who the Dragon is?"

"The earth itself will burn" EXCUSE ME WHY ARE WE LOOKING AT MAT RIGHT NOW XD

Nyneave asking the tough questions, as usual

Sidebar why has no one gotten Mat a better coat? There is wind in the ways, too!

Moiraine like "this is now beyond our control, the Wheel weaves as the wheel wills..." meanwhile Mat is like "Please don't make me deal with the darkness again, hahaha just kidding but actually not kidding at all." [OK, so obviously this was because Mat's actor left when Covid hit, but "You have no control and Fate is gonna chew you up and spit you out and you'll likely die if you're not the Dragon" is literally the most anti-Mat statement you could possibly make and I don't blame him for noping the fuck out. Besides, his fate is gonna find him anyway.]

Mat really is being set up as the Edmund Pevensie of the group here XD hope that deeply cursed Turkish Delight is worth it, buddy

"It's fairly obvious that one of them is the problem, and it's Mat. They should have been spending more time watching him!" - My beloved spouse, who is correct

[jaesqueso]

requested

pairing: jaehyun x reader

genre: fluff, idol au!

word count: 1,170

warnings: it gets a tiny little bit suggestive in the end

-

You wake up and the first thing you do is check your phone. You palms are already sweaty and your heart beats faster as you anticipate what you’re going to read online. Is everybody bashing you? Do they think you’re using him? Could you be receiving death threats already? The million thoughts in your head disperse as an arm wraps around your waist and a face snuggles on your neck. You take a deep breath and open the web.

“So, what are they saying?” A husky voice comes from behind you.

Silence.

“That bad?” He lifts his head to look at your phone.

“They…” You try to make up a sentence. “They love us!”

“Of course they do, we’re adorable.” Kisses are spread all across your neck and a big smile grows on your face.

⌜BREAKING NEWS⌟

SM confirms relationship between NCT’s Jaehyun and voice actress Y/N

Earlier this week Dispatch released pictures from an alleged date between the NCT singer and the actress. Netizens were quick to comment trying to understand if the two were in a relationship. This morning SM Entertainment, home agency for both artists, confirmed the two had gotten close and ultimately engaged in a romantic relationship. The company supports both artists and hopes fans will be supportive too. No statements have been made by either Jaehyun or Y/N.

Comment (99+):

At first I was sad Jaehyun had a girlfriend, but they look so cute together T_T

Ah~ they make such an adorable couple~

Both of them are amazing artists, I’m glad they found love on each other!

Am I the only one who wants to see more of them? SM please let them work together~

Jaehyun has been acting lately, should we wait to see them on screen? <3

Please let’s support this new power couple!!!

(…)

You and Jaehyun met at a company event two years ago and since he had been interested in starting his acting career you two talked all night even exchanging phone numbers. In the following weeks you got closer, not only talking about work but also getting to know each other, and eventually love started to blossom.

In the beginning you tried to be as discreet as possible, not even the other NCT members knew. That worked out for the first few months but eventually they all found out promising to keep it a secret as they’re very supportive of the relationship.

As for the company, some people were suspicious but had no proof until Dispatch decided you two would be the new couple revealed in their famous New Year’s tradition. Of course you two were automatically called to discuss the matter and SM decided it would be better to go ahead and confirm the rumours.

Both you and Jaehyun were nervous about the public’s reaction, although he kept saying no matter what the netizens say he will always love you and stay by your side and when you look into his eyes you know that’s true.

And now reading the (mainly) positive comments you two couldn’t be happier.

You then get a call from your manager to attend a meeting and Jaehyun gets the same from his own manager. You too get ready but decide to go separately, still uneasy about the relationship being public now.

“Y/N, Jaehyun, please sit.”

You two sit down looking around the room and feeling nervous about what’s going to be discussed.

“We have been tracking the online reaction to the news of your relationship and you have most people on your side!”

You and Jaehyun exchange looks adorned with shy smiles.

“And reading some of them closely, a lot of people are eager to see you together on screen.”

You two widen your eyes not expecting that opinion.

“Jaehyun, as you know we are preparing your solo debut and you will shoot the music video soon.”

He hesitantly nods not really understanding what that has to do with the current situation.

“Y/N, we know you have been focusing on voice acting but how would you feel about staring in Jaehyun’s music video?”

You almost choke at the unexpected offer.

They give you two sometime to talk about it and ultimately you decide to accept the offer as it will be just a few scenes.

On the day of the shooting your knees are shaking as you enter the set. Jaehyun was already working and you are left in awe at how good he looks performing the choreography as water drips down on him making the thin clothes he’s wearing stick to his incredible body… You shake the vision off your head and walk to hair and make up.

You gasp as they show you the outfit you’ll be wearing for the scene. It’s a form fitting dress and considering the guidelines they provided you suddenly feel shy that you’ll be so close to Jaehyun dressed like that.

You walk out of the dressing room and notice your boyfriend checking some footage with the music video director. You notice he already changed clothes ready to shoot the next scene. Once he notices you his jaw drops. He excuses himself from the director and walks towards you.

“Y/N… You look incredible…” He takes your hand spinning you around to get a good look at all of you.

“Jaehyun, stop.” You murmur already feeling your cheeks burning up.

“Ok, let’s start!” The director announces and everybody goes to their place.

The scenes consist in you two dancing in the club in the middle of the crowd, then the rest of the people will disappear and you’ll dance your way towards each other but once you’re close you’ll runaway from the dance floor and Jaehyun will chase you into the hall, holding you as he sings into your ear.

Everything was going great until you’re pressed against the fake set wall, his body way to close to yours, his hand griping tightly on your waist and his hot breath against your ear as he whispered his seductive lyrics. You feel shy again remembering everybody around watching you two.

“Cut! Let’s do it again from the top!” The director shouts and then turns to you. “Y/N, you are a bit tense, could you make it more relaxed and natural please?”

You gulp and nod at the instructions. As you and Jaehyun walk back to the initial spot, he comes close and whispers in your ear.

“Why are you so shy baby? It’s not like I’ve never pressed you against a wall before.”

You widen your eyes and lightly hit his arm.

“Jaehyun, don’t say those things here.” You murmur looking around to see if anyone might have heard him.

“Ok, I’ll stop… For now. Later tonight, when I press you against your apartment’s wall, I want the whole building to know my name.”

He winks with a grin as you are left all hot and bothered anticipating what’ll happen later. How the hell are you supposed to nail this scene now?

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sea Salt: Two

Summary: As a noblewoman from a small (and nefarious) kingdom in the Stepstones and quiet Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Elia Martell, she is accustomed to being looked through rather than looked at. The only exceptions to this rule are Prince Oberyn and Lord Willas Tyrell but they are often far from the dark shadows of the Red Keep or Dragonstone. She finds comfort in her quiet friendship with the princess and the delight of the darling royal children. But as Prince Rhaegar places a wreath of blue roses in the lap of Lady Lyanna Stark and rebellion starts to rage, she knows she will have to live up to her reputation. But luckily, she seems to have two allies lurking in the shadows.

Pairing(s): Willas Tyrell/F!Reader/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand

Word Count: 24.6k (T_T)

Rating for this chapter: NC-17 for a bit of violence and mention of blood and warfare, my over-use of italics and using time jumps, and my love for ASOIAF lore. Ellaria is the only one in this relationship with a functioning braincell and reader is always happy to learn new things (ie: they have sex. they like it) If you have any questions about the lore or who is who or need clarifications, please just ask! I’m playing fast and loose with a bit of it, and a few ages, too. But I’m always happy to answer any questions you have! Thank you to everyone who was so kind about the first chapter and gave me ideas for this one. I love you. 

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites) 

Chapter Two: Salt of the Sweat

Read Chapter One Here!

Or read this chapter on Ao3!

The quill was running dry as she finished the missive. A knock came at the door and her uncle Hammond walked in. “Are you ready?”

Y/N nodded and sealed the letter, knowing the ink would smear in her haste. She handed it off to a handmaiden to be sent as soon as they were aboard the small, unmarked ship, before bending down and gathering both Aegon and Jon into her arms with a now-practiced ease. The two babies each pushed out a hand to wrap their little fingers around the silver hanging beneath her collar, enjoying the warmth the delicate metal exuded. The sun charm glinted in the growing moonlight.

Hammond nodded, a bit sad, and kissed her forehead as he stepped to her side. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

Prince Oberyn- The babes are growing strong. We depart Skilliga tonight. Thank you for the gold and for the necklace. I have sent Arthur and Dawn home with Ashara. Please be gentle with her, she is my last true friend aside from you and Willas. I do not know when I shall be able to write to you again, but I will try.

Ashara had arrived on the sharp rock shores of Skilliga only a few weeks after Arthur had come, holding a bag of gold from House Martell and a small box with a delicate silver necklace tucked inside—a long chain of braided silver and two charms hung at the bottom; a shark and a sun. It was beautiful, truly. Far more beautiful than anything Y/N had ever owned. Skilliga, for all its charms, did not favor pretty things. “Elia had the finest smith in Sunspear craft it for you—it was supposed to be your nameday present.” Her smile was sad. “She swore me to secrecy, you know. Wanted it to be a surprise.”

And the babies were fond of it, too. Their little hands always searched for it when she held them and she would dangle it above their cribs when they would fuss at night, letting the moonlight catch the polished silver. They seemed to like it.

My Prince- Rhaenys has taken to reading to the boys at night—I think she has memorized the story you sent. It hardly leaves her side. It was the book your mother read to you and Elia when you were younger, was it not? Filled with sparkling waters and talking turtles. She grows stronger and brighter every day. I know you would be proud of her. I know Elia would be, too. I miss her more than words can say. I try to tell Aegon and Elia all I know of her, and I tell Jon what I can of Lyanna, but I feel I am a poor replacement for their true mothers. I know you and Prince Doran are biding your time and I have taken your advice to not stay in one place for too long. But I do hope I am able to see you again soon.

She spent her lonely nights reading about the history she was not taught in Skilliga—of the flight of the Targaryens to Dragonstone before the Doom, of Garin the Great of the Rhoynar, of magic she did not know could be real. All of it. The world seemed so much smaller and larger now, somehow at the same time.

Her book snapped shut at the sound of one of the boys starting to cry in their bassinet. She rose from her cushioned chair and stepped toward their room, ready to help soothe him but was unsurprised when she saw Rhaenys leaning over Aegon’s crib, humming a little tune as she rubbed at her brother’s tummy, a move Elia was fond of when her children were fussy—Rhaenys must have seen Elia do it before…well, before. Aegon’s cries quickly quieted and Y/N smiled at Rhaenys who looked a little bashful as she turned and spotted her in the doorway.

“Would you like some honeyfingers, sunshine?”

Lord Willas- Lys was strange. But it kept Aegon safe—his silver hair did not look out of place here. But Rhaenys did. A man at the market spotted her—tried to steal her from my arms and screamed of how the Usurper would grant him gold and titles if he brought her back to Westeros. I lost my favorite dagger in his neck. We set sail in just a few moments.

Pentos had been next. And a handful of years passed in the shadows of a Pentoshi tower. The children still kept close to her, hiding behind her legs in the market when someone walked too close or looked too long. But they were growing each day.

Balerion, who was now very large and very mean to anyone he did not like, was the one constant in their lives, it seemed. He had grown even meaner since they had started to travel through Essos, purring contentedly only if in the laps of Rhaenys or her brothers—he would only grace Y/N with his presence when Rhaenys was busy with her studies and he knew not to disturb her and Jon and Aegon were involved with the tutors she managed to hire. He would curl up in her lap and she would have to remain very still if she did not want his razor sharp nails to puncture her breeches (again) in retaliation for being woken from his nap before he was fully rested.

But his fur was very soft and he made the little ones smile—she could take a few moments to breathe, nowhere to go, no one to meet, if it kept the cat happy. But today he was batting at the slip of parchment she was trying to read. It was from a Pentoshi Magistrate named Illyrio or something—Balerion had shredded the bottom—who was hoping to meet with her (and the children he had heard rumors of for ‘quite some time’) and promised more riches and more ‘protection.’ He had ulterior motives, she was sure, but she needed all the help she could find.

Balerion gave up on the shredded parchment and leapt from Y/N’s lap before stretching for a moment beside her feet. His big, fluffy head turned this way and that, as if looking for something. And then, as if on cue, Rhaenys darted out of the manse’s solar and scooped the cat up into her arms and placed a kiss on the top of his head. It earned her a rumbling purr in return.

“How would you feel about meeting someone for supper tonight, sunshine?”

My Prince- Congratulations on your newest daughter! An even eight—you must be so proud. The way you write of Ellaria is fit for songs. I know your daughters will flourish with your guiding hand. I will tell Rhaenys and Aegon of their new cousin, they are always happy to hear of their family. They miss you. I miss you.

The dinner had been just as dull and filled with lies and platitudes as any other meal they had shared with noblemen and dignitaries over the last handful of years in Essos. Illyrio was very self-assured and tried to tell Y/N that he wanted to see a Targaryen on the throne of Westeros again. “It is better for business, you see. This whole Rebellion has greatly affected my profits.”

“And that is all you care for? Profits?”

Illyrio’s smile was slimy but Y/N curled her fingers into the loose silk of her skirts to avoid reaching for the knife balanced on the edge of her plate. It would not do for her to threaten a(nother) host. “I would not be opposed to being raised to the Master of Coin when the rightful heir takes his place on the throne. It was nasty business what happened to that Dornish Princess.”

“Her name was Elia,” Y/N ground out.

“But I do suppose she served her purpose, bringing these beautiful children into the world.”

Y/N let go of her skirts and reached up to touch the knife. If he said another word, it was going into his eye and she would just steal everything she could hold. Perhaps that was a better plan than listening to him talk anyway. She glanced to her left to see Rhaenys looking down at her lap, little hands folded over her skirt. Hearing anything about her mother usually made her grow quiet and sad. Y/N, not even thinking of what it meant, moved her hand from the knife to cover Rhaenys’ hands. Providing comfort instead of violence.

(Mayhaps that could still come later.)

Rhaenys looked up at her and gave her a small smile, followed quickly by three squeezes to her fingers, a silent signal they had developed over the years to let the other know they were well.

“I swear it, your grace,” Illyrio said, staring at Aegon, another slimy smile on his face. “I will see you on your throne. You shall be king.”

“He is a child,” Y/N bit out. “Do not push him for something he cannot be sure he wants.” Aegon was barely speaking in full sentences that made sense, how could he know if he wanted some stupid crown? Just last night, Rhaenys had pulled her featherbed into her brothers’ rooms to sleep near them because they would not calm down until she was near them. He was a child. Born to royalty, yes, but a child still.

Illyrio laughed, a grating sound that had Rhaenys tightening her grip on her hand. “Of course, but you must teach him his responsibility. In secret, I know the highborn of Westeros are toasting to your survival, stitching dragons into their tapestries, and will come to your aid when you call for banners.”

That would have been a nice thought if anyone knew he was alive. Oberyn and Doran both had told her that most spoke of how they ‘knew’ Rhaenys and Aegon had been killed when the Lannisters sacked King’s Landing—and some others ‘knew’ that Lady Lyanna and her unborn babe had both died at the Tower of Joy before the end of the Rebellion. “I’ve been more preoccupied with keeping him breathing.”

“I don’t wan’ be king.”

Everyone turned to look at Aegon who seemed near tears.

“What, little one?” Y/N asked as she pulled him into her lap. His hand instantly grabbed at the necklace and he pressed his face into her shoulder.

“No king.” He sniffled and shook his head. “Rhaenee is king.”

The magistrate guffawed and Y/N once again looked at the knife. She could do it. “You will be king.” His smile did not falter. “But I do have gifts for you all.” Illyrio, unaware of how close he had come to death, waved a hand and a servant quickly came and placed a large chest on the table, rattling the cutlery and plates.

Jon startled in his little raised chair at her side but Rhaenys was immediately intrigued, even as she reached out to calm Jon with a gentle hand to his back. The lid opened and…

It was a…rock. A pretty rock, but a rock. It was a smoke color with ripples of orange and yellow. Illyrio waved a hand again, indicating she was allowed to grasp it, and she did as Aegon continued to press against her chest. It was heavier than she thought it would be and a little cold to the touch. Her eyes drifted to the small stack of gold also in the chest.

“What am I to do with this rock?” Y/N held the thing aloft with an arched eyebrow, holding back the sneer she felt growing. “Should I crack it open? Will it give me the ability to breathe life into my dearest friend’s lungs again? Will I be able to kill the usurper on the Iron Throne from across the Narrow Sea?”

“It is a dragon egg, my lady,” Illyrio said, enunciating each syllable as if that would help her understand. “Extremely valuable.”

Y/N turned and handed Rhaenys the egg, watching her little fingers curl around it immediately. She reached out and scooped out the gold and stood. The three children quickly did the same, little Aegon still in her arms and Rhaenys grabbing Jon from his chair. “I thank you for your time and meal, Magistrate. I shall think on your offer.”

Illyrio hurried to stand as well. “Yes, as their regent, I do value your opinion-”

But they were already turned away and walking out the door.

Lord Willas- I wish I could show you the gardens of Volantis. I am sure they pale in comparison to Highgarden, but they are lovely even if the people and customs are intolerable. The dried petals you hid in the folds of your last missive were a welcome surprise—a merchant woman insisted I have them turned into a perfume and it is a delightful scent. I can almost imagine the green grass and pink roses you have told me about so many times. I hope I will be able to see them soon. The air here is so heavy, it gets hard to breathe. Aegon and Jon do enjoy the elephants that the noblemen insist we ride everywhere. My sunshine likes to steer the large animal when the streets are clear, too. But please, tell me more of your home. Has your father filled the aviary with more hawks? Are the pups growing strong?

Y/N pulled the sword out of the back of the last man, listening to him gurgle on his own blood before he dropped to the worn wooden planks of the dock. Two more bodies were half submerged in the water a few paces back.

Volantis had turned on them, too. But the gold she had taken from the bodies of the would-be kidnappers (or assassins, she had not stopped to ask) would give them a little more cushion when they arrived in Lorath.

“Y/N?” Rhaenys called out from her hiding spot on the small ship docked just behind her. Her head appeared over the railing of the boat as Y/N wiped the blood off her sword onto her breeches before placing it back in its scabbard. “Did you get the pomegranates?”

Y/N turned and shuffled back a few steps to pick up the large bag she had dropped in the scuffle and held it up with a smile, ignoring how she could feel blood drying on her face. “I did, sunshine!”

Little Shark- Ellaria has been insistent that I introduce you as soon as we are able. I believe you would make dangerous friends. Lorath may not be the most exciting of places to hide, but I know you and the little ones will be safe. My family owes you a great debt. Doran has had to stop me from loading up my family and sailing to wherever you have landed. I have dreamt of you, little shark. I remember how you would smile and laugh. I remember how the scent of the sea seemed to be pressed into your skin. All of this has haunted me. You have haunted me.

Rhaenys was fond of just holding the silly little dragon egg and seemed to find a strange comfort by simply being near it, even as the years continued to trickle by and the stone egg was unchanged. “It feels warm, does it not?” She asked, holding out the egg toward Y/N.

But it did not feel warm to Y/N as she brushed her fingers against the strange orange ripples. It felt like cold rock. “Maybe I do not have the magic touch,” she said with a wink.

“Rhaenys!” They both turned at the shout of her name. Aegon and Jon, now seven and eight, rushed toward them. Little wooden swords clutched in their hands and their trousers covered in dirt. She had left them, only momentarily, to whack at each other in their garden.

Rhaenys was nearly bowled over by her brothers as they leapt at her and she tried to catch them, always protective. “What troubles you?” She asked as she managed to right them, batting away their swords as they absentmindedly still held them pointed up, ready to spar, while still holding onto her precious dragon egg.

“There is a strange man at the door.”

Ice went down Y/N’s spine and she hurried to push the children toward the back of the room, hiding them away in the back of the wardrobe. She handed Rhaenys a blade of her own, barely larger than the girl’s hand. “Remember what I taught you, sunshine?”

“Eyes, throat, thigh,” Rhaenys said, voice shaking just the slightest bit.

“Yes. And do not come out until I come for you.” She kissed each of them on the forehead and shut the door quietly, hoping against hope that it would not be the last time she would see them. But she steeled herself and patted at her breeches, feeling the four hidden blades there, and then the other four hidden in her tunic. She would fight. She would fight until her last breath.

Slowly but with her head held high, Y/N made her way toward the door and braced for the worst—a haggard Westerosi knight in search of gold and glory. A Braavosi bravo who wanted adventure across the Narrow Sea. A Sorrowful Man. A Faceless Man.

She peeked outside the window nearest the door and frowned. The man standing outside looked familiar and the longer she stared at him, the more she realized she knew him. A knight who had stuck to the Mad King’s side every time she had been forced to go to the Red Keep.

A Targaryen loyalist.

Maybe.

Slowly, she opened the door and stared at him. Willem Darry looked haggard—near death. He smelt like it, too.

“I have been searching for you,” he said, voice rough on her ears.

“What do you want, Darry?”

“I know that you have the little dragons.”

“You are mistaken.” Her hand started to inch toward the knife she had at her back. She could kill him. It could be quick and most people would not bat an eye at a bit of spilled blood. She needed to keep the children safe.

“I’m not. Queen Rhaella told me of a missive Elia wrote to her brother before the Sack of King’s Landing.”

Her hand curled around the hilt. “I know of no such letter.”

“I do not care of what you do or do not know. I am here because I need you. They need you.” He turned and called out for something—she did not care to listen. But the gate at the edge of her property opened and she felt her heart clench. Behind him stood little Viserys Targaryen and his sister, Daenerys.

Her grasp loosened. “Oh.”

My lady Y/N, Braavos sounds wondrous. I must admit that learning you have found two more dragons was a welcome surprise. It seems you collect them now. Prince Oberyn has been adamant that I visit the palace of Sunspear but I am afraid I will only embarrass myself further. The Usurper has started having a brood of his own. He grows more complacent by the day. Mayhaps I will be able to come to you someday soon. Your letters have become a most cherished treasure to me—even if my little sister Margaery does try to read them over my shoulder at every opportunity. I wish I could tell her about you, about how brave and beautiful you are. But I have promised Prince Oberyn to keep you a secret. And my secret you shall be.

Ser Willem Darry quickly moved Y/N and the children into his house. It was larger, equipped with better possible hiding places, and seemed to blend into the background of their particular road, hard to pick it out from its neighbors, aside from the red door. Darry made the servants aware that these four new faces were to be obeyed just as he was. He was a bear of a man, but gentle.

Rhaenys and Daenerys were thick as thieves, the older of the two quickly schooling the young girl in all things a good, highborn lady should know, and several more things a lady should not. More often than not, Y/N would find them practicing with bits of sharpened wood, stabbing the air with clumsy grips which Willem tried to rectify to the girls’ delights. Viserys had caught them once or twice and had snapped the bits of wood in two and dragged Daenerys away by the end of her silver braid until Y/N stepped in and made him practice his calligraphy until the sun set as punishment for making the girls cry. He was a terrible child, always holding his nose too high in the air and telling Aegon and Jon that he was king because his mother had crowned him at Dragonstone before she died.

“She only did that because she thought Aegon was dead or would be soon,” Rhaenys said, fire in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be king anyway!” Aegon would always shout from the next room over.

It was best to keep them separated.

My Prince- I am tired. And I must apologize for the tone of this letter. But Ser Willem is not long for this world, his stomach grows more troublesome for him by the day, and Viserys has been burning letters he will snatch from my hands, not allowing me to know their contents. Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon are still flourishing in Braavos, however. They have asked that I send you this small wooden snake—and you know I am unable to tell them no when they ask so sweetly. Rhaenys has insisted that she read the books you have sent to her brothers and little Daenerys. I had to keep Viserys from stealing the book from her hands more than once. He is a terrible young man. If Aegon were not so attached to him, I might not be so protective of him. But I would not do anything which would bring a frown to Aegon’s face. He has also taken to dyeing his hair blue, to better blend with the Braavosi crowd, letting any passersby think he is just a Tyroshi boy. He is so smart, my prince. He and Rhaenys—and Jon, too, when he is not sulking—are growing to be true heirs to their throne. I hope you will be able to see them soon, just as I hope to meet your daughters and Ellaria. Lord Willas has told me that you are quite the doting father. I miss you.

Aegon and Jon grew stronger and more adventurous with each passing moon while Viserys did try to seem like his nephews’ company and would tell them stories of court life in Westeros, of how Rhaegar was a valiant knight, and how King Aerys was loved by the people.

Y/N had been quick to tell them the truth as she tucked them into bed each night but that did not stop the boys from wanting the older boy’s attention when Ser Willem was deemed ‘un-fun’ when he tired so quickly.

That sentiment quickly soured in their little mouths when Y/N had to explain that Willem had joined their mothers in the Seven Heavens and would not be…around anymore.

“Just say it, he’s dead,” Viserys commanded with an upturned lip.

“You might be crass, Viserys, but that does not mean I need be, too.”

“Why not? Your pathetic little kingdom would not stand under the might of the Seven Kingdoms. That is why you’ve run-”

“Will you braid my hair?” Daenerys’ soft voice cut the tension and Y/N happily turned to look at the youngest dragon.

“Of course, Dany. Go grab your brush.”

“I have a ribbon you can use,” Rhaenys said with a small smile. She reached out a hand toward the younger girl who happily took it.

As Daenerys scurried away, Viserys shot Y/N another glare before marching off. Jon had been watching the entire exchange with his usual pout and Aegon was looking between Y/N and the door where Viserys had disappeared as he fiddled with the pommel of his practice sword.

“I do not understand his dislike of you,” Aegon said.

“He doesn’t like that he is second best,” Jon said. “Or third.”

Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Have you two finished your Valyrian lines?”

Aegon and Jon looked at each other and then darted from the room without a look back, as Y/N knew they would. Daenerys came back in with a smile, her brush, and the bit of ribbon Rhaenys had leant her in her hands. Y/N sat behind Daenerys and carefully brushed her hair. Daenerys seemed to preen under the touch, much like Rhaenys did when she was her age, happy to feel friendly fingers taking care with her hair. She plaited it and tied it off with the purple ribbon, knowing it would probably be a mess by the time dinner was served.

“You will not leave us. Not like Ser Willem, right?” The little princess asked as she turned to look up at her.

Y/N pressed a smile to her face and bit back the words she felt bubbling at the back of her throat. How could she tell a heartbroken little girl that she could not decide when she left this world? She traced a finger down Daenerys’ cheek before gently cupping her chin in her hand. “I promise I will be at your side for as long as I am able, princess.”

Daenerys paused, violet eyes searching her face for answers before nodding. “What are we having for supper?”

My Prince- Thank you for the wonderful gifts for Rhaenys’ ten-and-four nameday. I cannot believe she is almost a woman grown. I cannot believe it has been so long since I have seen you, so long since my flight from Dragonstone. How fares little Dorea? Has she recovered from her sickness? And what of Sarella? Is she still masquerading in the Citadel? She truly is your daughter. Please give Ellaria my love and I will give Aegon, Jon, and Rhaenys yours.

It had been quite a few years since she had heard Rhaenys wake herself up in a fit. Y/N quietly padded over to her room and let herself in, seeing the princess sit in a mess of blankets, a hand on her chest, obviously trying to slow her racing heart. Y/N stepped inside as Rhaenys spotted her sat on the edge of the bed and smiled as Rhaenys quickly swirled around on the blankets to place her head on Y/N’s lap. Her fingers reached up and tangled with her necklace, thumb brushing against the sun pendant as she had done hundreds of times before.

“What troubles you, sunshine? Let me help you.” She curled her hands over Rhaenys’ shoulders and side, cradling her just a bit—like she did when she was a small child. “The nightmares have come back.” She did not look up at her, only keeping her focus on the metal sun.

“Tell me what you see.”

Rhaenys sighed. “You’ll think me foolish.”

“Never.”

“There are ice dragons—bigger than castles, bigger than mountains. They come from the cold and have riders made of snow on their backs and swords made of ice, too.” She shivered and her hand dropped from Y/N’s necklace and she curled further into Y/N’s grasp. “The dead walk with them.”

“The dead?” Y/N asked, her face scrunching in confusion.

“They follow them, mindlessly. Like they have no control.”

Y/N pulled Rhaenys a little closer, feeling something cold trace its finger down her spine. “You’ve been dreaming of the cold since you were a child.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before finally looking up at her. “I don’t think they’re dreams.”

And that gave Y/N pause. She had read about Daenys the Dreamer who saved her family from the Doom. She had read how the priests and priestesses of the Mother Rhoyne were gifted with visions of things not yet come to pass. “You have been seeing this since you were a babe, sunshine. Tell me. Tell me what you think it is.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’ve read the book of legends Uncle Oberyn has sent. Of the Rhoynar, of my mother’s people. It said that some were gifted with something called the Sight. The ability to see things as they happen from across the world, or things not yet come to pass.”

“Like the Dragon Dreams of the Valyrians.”

Rhaenys nodded and finally dropped her hold on the necklace.

“And you think that this cold, these beings, are coming?”

“I know it sounds like nonsense-”

“Almost every country in this world has legends of a night which lasted generations, of cold which reached across the seas. And history repeats itself, my sunshine. It is possible that you have always had the Sight. Do not discount yourself.”

Rhaenys looked up at her, dark eyes shining in the moonlight. “Then I am seeing what is to come?”

Y/N pulled her a little closer. “It is possible. But magic has been gone from the world a long time.”

“But if the cold can come again, magic can as well.”

Y/N nodded. “And I shall be here with you if it does.”

“My father,” Rhaenys grumbled the title, “was fond of prophecy, was he not? The Targaryens always said ‘the Dragon has three heads’ or something like that.”

“Why can there not be four?” She sighed. “Or five. Would not more be better? Surely there is still strength in numbers. And we shall need all the strength we can muster.”

Rhaenys opened her mouth to say something when the door burst open. On instinct, Y/N grabbed the knife she’d hidden in her sleeve and hurled it at the intruder. It missed Jon’s head by pure luck. He only glanced at the blade once before turning back to them. “Something’s happened.”

Y/N stood from the bed with Rhaenys at her side and they ran through the manse, following Jon’s steps but their haste did not change the outcome. Viserys and Daenerys were gone.

Lady Y/N- Thank you for the information you have discovered about from the Iron Bank. It is most welcome and has helped us continue to truly know how poorly and precariously the Usurper is sitting on his stolen throne. If you discover anything else, I would be grateful. Please give the young ones my love. -Prince Doran, Lord of Sunspear

“Again,” Y/N said, standing on the edge of the stone platform.

Aegon and Jon both groaned but Rhaenys held up her sword, ready for the next drill to be called out.

They had been training since the sun came up. While the breeze off the water kept them cool, sweat still poured down their necks to wet their tunics. It was a familiar sight—Y/N could remember her own time in Skilliga’s training rooms when she was younger than them.

It felt like ages ago.

She called out the next set of drills and watched as they worked through the steps, each with a bit of room for improvement, but not entirely terrible. As they worked through another set, and then another, Y/N reached for her own wooden sword and leapt up onto the platform as they caught their breath. Perhaps it was time for only one more exercise.

“If you each manage to land a blow, we can call it for the day, hm? I’ll even have honeywine brought in.”

The siblings looked at each other, a silent conversation, before they all turned like a three-headed beast and raised their swords and charged.

When it was all finished—Y/N had only two more sore spots on her arms but she still had honeywine and let them drink the entire bottle themselves. They had earned it. The manse grew quiet after their small celebration and Y/N sat in her room and listened to the sea beat against the city’s walls as she ran a cool, damp cloth across her face, trying to wash the day’s dirt and sweat away. It was strange, to know that she did not need to make sure that the three did not require a story to help them sleep. They hadn’t in several years. But she still found herself wanting to rise from her cushioned seat to check on them as the air grew still and soft.

A knock at her opened door had her turning and Rhaenys was walking into her room with her lips pulled tight. “Dany is alive.”

“How do you know this?” Y/N asked, rising from her seat. For almost a year, she had heard nothing of the two lost dragons. She knew someone had seen them, she had always known when someone was keeping a secret. But they never told. Again and again, she had thought she would learn of their deaths from a sneering nobleman or one of her missives from Westeros. But she had heard nothing.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve dreamt it.”

My Y/N, Thank you for the lace and silk. You are a generous soul; I had been searching for the right materials for my Obella’s nameday dress and your package arrived the next day. Oberyn speaks of you often, of little Aegon and Rhaenys, and Jon too. I hope to meet you soon, to finally know your face as I know your name. To know you.

It was two years later that she finally heard of where the two silver-headed dragons had gone.

The Dothraki Sea.

“Why would they go there?” Rhaenys asked with a frown.

“Viserys probably hatched some plan. Brokered a deal he did not fully understand with a man smarter than him.”

“A horse is smarter than him,” Aegon muttered. Rhaenys slapped his arm but Jon roared with laughter.

“Well, we must go to them. To Daenerys, at least,” Rhaenys said as she stood from her seat.

And that was how Y/N found herself selling most of their earthly possessions and setting out away from Braavos with an honest guide whom she trusted and paid well. (Balerion hated the wheelhouse but preferred it to being sat on Rhaenys’ lap on her horse. He curled himself around the petrified dragon egg and mostly slept through the day.)

From Braavos to Norvos and then down the banks of the Noyne to where it met the Rhoyne, the days trickled by.

For only a few hours, she let the three bask in the beauty of the ruins of Ny Sar—of the city Nymeria, their famed ancestor, had once called home—before they continued on. They could not afford to linger.

But she grew more and more fatigued with each passing day.

“What ails you?” Rhaenys asked as they stopped for the night.

“I never sleep well this far from the sea, sunshine.” She pressed a smile to her face and tugged at the silver lock of hair at Rhaenys’ nape. “I will rest when we find Daenerys and I can hear the waves crash against the shore again.”

But she asked again a few nights later as they settled again to make their small camp, quiet and hidden. They were too far south for the Pirates of Dagger Lake and too far north for the Volantene galleys to spot them, but it was still best to be cautious. Even in Skilliga, Y/N knew of the dangers of the Sorrows. And Y/N gave her answer. “We are too close to the Sorrows for me to sleep soundly, sunshine.”

They both settled on the high hill at the edge of the grasslands where it met the sparse forest, and watched the cursed fog slowly roll over the unseen waters she could only barely hear. It was strangely quiet here, in this desolate part of the world.

“This is where the Rhoynar made their last stand—before Nymeria and her ten thousand ships set sail and landed in Dorne.”

“Yes. Centuries ago, Chroyane, this was a proud and fertile land. Filled with celebrations and water magic. A place of laughter and prosperity.”

Rhaenys sighed as she looked out at the curling grey mist and barren trees. “But not now.”

“Before the Doom, when the Valyrians still ruled Essos, they tried to conquer the Rhoynar. Wars raged and, for a handful of years, the Rhoynar were able to hold the dragons off. But that did not last. In a last attempt to make the dragons rue the day they set their purple eyes on this part of the Rhoyne, Garin the Great called down a curse on the Valyrians after being captured.”

“And the waters rose and the fog rolled in, sweeping them beneath and holding them there beneath the waves for all the ages to come. The fog turned their skin to stone, matching their stone hearts and took their minds, too.” Rhaenys nodded. “I remembered that part. Mother would tell me stories of the Rhoynar when father was too busy wish his prophecies to sing me to sleep.” The young girl at her side heaved a heavy sigh as she watched the mist curl across the water. “This is my mother’s bloodline. Snuffed out by my father’s.”

Y/N huffed and knocked her shoulder against Rhaenys’. “You are not your parents. You are not some bit of rock that maesters scribble about in their chambers. You, my sunshine, are both Martell and Targaryen. You are the Sun and a Dragon. The fact that you are here means that the impossible is possible. You are water magic and fire in skin. You are the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. You are your mother’s daughter—her sunshine, my sunshine.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she nodded and stood, sweeping her hands against her trousers to brush the dead grass from the fabric. Y/N expected her to say that she was retiring again for the night. But Rhaenys always kept Y/N on her toes.

She was suddenly sprinting down the hill toward the water and the cursed fog.

“Rhaenys?! What are you doing?”

Rhaenys would succumb to the curse, to greyscale—what was she doing?! Y/N sprinted down after her, pumping her legs faster and faster to try to catch her—but she was again too late. And she screamed as Aegon darted in after his sister.

But the fog did not engulf Rhaenys’ form. It did not choke the air from her young lungs. Instead, it curled around her ankles like Balerion had done so many times as a kitten. It was welcoming her. Welcoming her home.

For a moment, Y/N could only watch as the unnatural fog almost seemed to sparkle and shine as Rhaenys reached out her hands toward it. She knew Aegon was yelling, saying something to Rhaenys. But she couldn’t hear it. And she doubted Rhaenys could either as the fog closed around the pair.

She could only wait, with a panicked Jon at her side and a strangely calm Balerion in her arms.

“All will be well,” Y/N heard herself saying.

“Are you certain?” Jon asked in return.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

And when the sun rose in the morning, for the first time in hundreds of years, it shone on Chroyane. The fog lifted. She could see the broken yet still beautiful arches and marble columns of towering stone. Grand palaces jutting from the sparkling waters. Overgrown trees, once foreboding and covered in grey moss, had shining green leaves as large as her arm with delicate pink flowers blossoming. And it was beautiful—even with the bodies of the stone men piled, almost neatly, on the banks of the river. Finally at rest.

Y/N turned her head at the sound of splashing and saw one of the famed large turtles the Rhoyne was known for, sliding through the water, content.

In the center of the river, the water slowly moving by, stood Rhaenys and Aegon.

Jon sprinted to his siblings’ side. “What happened? What did you see?”

Rhaenys only smiled.

**

The siblings had insisted that they take a handful of days to explore the newly ‘recovered’ city. And Y/N could not tell them no—both out of familial duty and personal curiosity. While Aegon and Rhaenys traipsed through the ruins as if they had been there thousands of times before, showing Jon everything they could and telling him of the Rhoynish history, Y/N explored on her own.

The ancient scars of the last battle against the Valyrians were still seen, now dulled by the constant presence of the river water but she could see bits of armor beneath ivy and trees, sun-bleached bone where the water was shallow.

But the river was clear and cool and Y/N let it soak her breeches as she jumped from the small skiff she had found so she could look through the ruins of what appeared to be an ornate bathhouse. Mud and damp greenery sloshed underneath her boots as she walked through, trying to envision what this place looked like before the war and curse. But even now, it was beautiful.

Something clanged against her boot and she looked down to see an edge of a sword. Y/N frowned as she pulled the sword from the muck and wiped it clean on her already-disgusting trousers. The pommel had a head of lion and was inlaid with fine rubies and gold. The blade was long—too long to be wielded by one hand as she had trained to do—but it was far too light to be common steel. Y/N held up the blade to let it reflect the sun and saw the swirling patterns as her heart leapt into her throat.

This was Valyrian steel.

She spent the next handful of hours combing through the mounds of debris on the edges of the river, making sure to listen for where her three charges were and to know that they were safe, and collecting any bits of Valyrian steel—armor or weapons—she could find. And if she had to shake a few bones loose from it? That did not matter. This was not supposed to be the resting place of the dragonriders. This was not their land. So, she supposed that the Valyrians’ former belongings were free game.

They would catch a fine price anyway.

Balerion was perched on a moss-covered rock, watching another large turtle and probably mulling over if the creature was friend, foe, or food.

But Rhaenys eventually pulled her brothers from the ruins and said it was time to move on—“we will come back. I’m sure of it.” And no one argued with her on that, or asked how she knew. They all knew to simply trust her.

The wetlands of the Rhoyne gave way to the grass of the Dothraki Sea and their guide promised that he knew the fastest way to Vaes Dothrak, the one true Dothraki settlement where Daenerys had last been seen. And his promises were kept, thankfully. Y/N was sure if anything else had caught her off guard, she would have fallen off her horse and never risen again. She was so far from the sea. She could hear no river or ocean. No water.

The heat was nearly unbearable. She had nearly thrown herself from the saddle when the seventy-sixth bead of sweat trailed its way down her neck to pool in the back of her tunic. But Rhaenys remained ever positive.

“We are nearly there, I can feel it.”

Even when they learned that Daenerys and what was left of her husband’s khalasar had left Vaes Dothrak and started toward Lhazar, she still voiced her positive outlook.

And it paid off. As Y/N knew it would—eventually.

As the sun set on the fourth day after leaving Vaes Dothrak, they spotted the remnants of a khalasar surrounding what looked like a giant funeral pyre as a red comet bled across the dark night sky. Y/N slowed her horse to a stop and dismounted as she squinted toward the group, trying to find Daenerys. The silver hair quickly stood out and she felt her heart lift, unweighted for the first time since they had left the Chroyane. But it suddenly tumbled down to her stomach as she watched Daenerys light the fire and then edged closer to the heat.

“Daenerys? Dany!”

But the girl did not hear her. Did not turn. Did not blink as she stepped into the flames.

Y/N ran toward the fire but was held back by a strange man—Y/N barely registered that he was not Dothraki—who muttered something about not needing more death tonight.

Sudden movement at her side had Y/N turning and she could not stomach the cry that ripped its way from her throat.

“Rhaenys? What are you—Rhaenys!” She screamed and screamed and leapt toward her only to be too late—again—to stop the carnage. That was her curse.

Rhaenys stepped into the funeral pyre, the egg she had treasured for years held out in front of her like an offering.

Aegon and Jon were screaming for her, for Dany, to come out—come out of the flames and we can go home! We can go home!

But the pair of girls did not. They did not emerge from the flames. Around the large funeral pyre, the remnants of the Dothraki khalasar moved to their knees, watching at the fire burned higher and hotter. And all Y/N could do was watch.

She had failed. She had failed and she didn’t know why. Why did the girls walk into the fire, so sure of their fates? Why did they welcome it with open arms? Why? Y/N sank to her knees and wept. She cried for the first time since Arthur had died at her feet, wept even as the heat from the pyre drenched her in sweat. She had failed.

By the time the sun rose and smoke dissipated, she was certain she would be staring at the bodies of her two girls and once again facing immeasurable loss and now having to handle her boys’ own anger and sadness.

But then she felt her heart leap into her throat.

Surrounded by ash and soot, were Daenerys and Rhaenys. Unharmed. Unburnt. Alive.

And four baby dragons.

“Oh.”

The remaining onlookers yelled out something in their language, hands raised toward Rhaenys and Daenerys.

Blood of their blood.

Y/N, Aegon, and Jon stepped over the piles of ash and still burning embers and toward the two women, naked, and covered in soot—but smiling. Y/N pulled off her overtunic and wrapped it around Rhaenys’ shoulders as Aegon draped his cloak around Daenerys.

“I saw you come again.” Daenerys reached out and grasped at Rhaenys’ hands and the young women cried. “I saw you.”

“I saw you, too,” Rhaenys whispered before shaking her hands free of Daenerys’ grip only to wrap her arms around her aunt in a tight embrace. “How could he hurt you so? You did not deserve to be treated like that.”

Y/N watched Daenerys’ brows furrow over Rhaenys’ shoulder. “What did you see?”

But the answer would have to wait as Aegon and Jon, tired of waiting, all but threw themselves at the pair, and berated them for their actions but thanked them both for surviving.

“I don’t know what we would do without you,” Aegon murmured.

Y/N sighed as she watched them, watched the small group cry and laugh and smile. Aegon did not know how true that statement was—and she hoped he would never know what the world would be like without his sister and aunt.

Rhaenys stepped away from her brother from a moment and held out a soot-covered hand toward her, urging her forward. And Y/N quickly took it, not minding the strange heat. The yellow and gold dragon hatchling on Rhaenys’ shoulder chirped as Y/N stepped closer. Its little neck craned as she kissed Rhaenys’ forehead, trying to see what Y/N was doing to their mother.

“Never do that again, my sunshine.”

**

There had been a bit of an argument between Daenerys and her guard—Jorah Mormont, Y/N had learned what his name was—and Rhaenys and her brothers as to where they would go next. They could not stay in the Dothraki Sea. The other khalasars were still a threat.

Jorah suggested Asshai-by-the-shadow.

Their guide suggested traveling back to Norvos—and when that was turned down, he took his payment and left. “You will die out here,” was all he said. Charming.

But Daenerys, watching the red comet still bleed across the crystal-blue sky had a different destination in mind. “What is that way?” She asked, finger pointing toward where the comet was flying.

“Qarth, khaleesi. The Queen of cities.”

Daenerys smiled at the sound of it. “We shall go to Qarth.” She turned and looked at Rhaenys who nodded, both of them unperturbed by the dragons using their limbs like a crib. Aegon and Jon were both looking at the pair of young women with awe and almost-smug knowing on their faces. Like they had predicted this very sight. And mayhaps they did.

Magic had come back into the world. With water and fog and fire and dragons.

It had come back.

**

My dear Willas- I am not sure if Qarth is to my taste. I do not like how these merchants ‘princes’ and warlocks stare at my charges and their dragons. I do not like how they lathe attention and treasures on the children…young adults, I suppose. I know that these people, man, woman, whomever, they only mean to get their hands on the dragons. And Balerion truly poses more of a threat than the dragons do—and the cat is getting old, he is still something to behold, but his paws move slower now. The hatchlings are defenseless little things even if they are starting to learn how to breathe fire. But I suppose the comforts of this famed city are better than the alternative of getting lost in the Red Waste. But still…I could hear the whispers and feel the people of Qarth all around us. Even our host, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, who had been the first to welcome us into the walled city and has given us an entire wing to call home in his immense estate—I cannot trust him. There is a Shadowbinder here who seems to appear at all hours of the night and day, speaking in whispers and vague prophecy. Truthfully, if she spoke plainly I might actually like her. But enough of that! What news do you have from Westeros? The new set of hounds—are they still growing strong?

For now, in this strange city, they were comfortable. She could hear the four laugh and see them smile. Daenerys told them of her time at Viserys’ side, told them of how her brother had told her that Y/N and Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon no longer wanted the pair at their side. She told them of how they had become wards of Illyrio Mopatis who had promised to help them retake the Seven Kingdoms—a familiar promise. He had brokered a deal with Khal Drogo, all but selling Daenerys to the khal in exchange for the large khalasar who was supposed to help Viserys reclaim the Iron Throne. It churned her stomach, it hurt her heart. “You know that you are family,” Y/N had said. “You are always welcome, always loved.” And that gave rise to the question: did any of them actually want the Iron Throne?

And the answer, unsurprisingly, was complicated.

Aegon and Jon wanted to stop running. Daenerys wanted a place to call home, truly. And Rhaenys, her sunshine, revealed her steel core. Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she stood and set her shoulders back. “Westeros will be mine. It will be mine as it should have been my father’s. As it should have belonged to my mother. The usurper and the lions stole it from her and I will wash them from this earth. I want it. The Seven Kingdoms belong to me—and I will have them.”

Y/N nodded. “You will, sunshine. I promise you that. You are the eldest. By Dornish right and custom, it belongs to you.” Y/N reached out and curled her finger around the silver strand at her ear, and she was suddenly so aware that Rhaenys was growing up. She looked so much like Elia. Where had the time gone? Her hand dropped back to her side. “You will be queen.”

“Y/N!”

She turned at sound of her name and saw Rhaenys walking toward her, draped in a silken Qartheen dress, and her little yellow dragon in her arms. She had named her Vēzos—it meant Sun in High Valyrian. She knew what Rhaenys meant when she had named her dragon. Elia was the Sun of Dorne. Rhaenys had been her sunshine. And now Rhaenys had a sun of her own. Beautiful and terrible and all hers. Y/N could not be more proud. “You are up early, my sunshine. Your brothers and aunt are still resting like the dead.” Last night a grand reception had been held by their host, filling his gardens with all the elite of the city. The Pureborn, the Thirteen, Warlocks—all of them, had descended on the lush grounds and had their fill of fine wood and drink while whispering about the ‘uncivilized’ Dothraki and stealing glances at the dragons while trying to make conversation with the four guests of honor.

It had been exhausting. Most of the party had been spent with Ser Jorah, trying to keep the Dothraki from pilfering anything worth value or Balerion from destorying the guests' fine dresses. Truthfully, Y/N wouldn’t’ve cared but Daenerys said it would not be kind to their host. Oh well.

“They drank much more than me,” Rhaenys said with a smile. Y/N patted the cushioned seat next to her but Rhaenys shook her head. “I have something to show you.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow but stood and followed Rhaenys out of Xaro’s manse, grabbing one of her swords on the way out and sliding it into the belt at her waist. The city was still sleeping and strangely quiet—quiet enough that Y/N could hear the ocean. The port of Qarth was one of the great ports of the known world and Y/N had grown up hearing of the treasure her parents had once plundered from the Jade Gates—it had been the trip they had taken just after they were married. Strangely romantic. The port was a little busier than the quiet of the city and Y/N stepped closer to Rhaenys as they neared the unfamiliar crowd. But, Rhaenys paid no one any mind until she spotted a man with a plumed hat who bowed when she stepped toward him.

“Right on time, Princess! Are you ready?”

Y/N had barely any time to ask what was going on before Rhaenys took her by the hand and ushered her onto the Swan Ship and it pulled away from the port. “Are you kidnapping me, sunshine?” She asked with a laugh.

“Only for a few hours.”

The ship made quick work of sailing through the Jade Gates and toward the East of Essos. And while the sun grew higher in the sky, Rhaenys steadfastly evaded any questions Y/N posed about their destination and she only grew more confused when the ship slowly stopped, rocking in time with the quiet waves—no land in sight.

And Rhaenys’ smile only widened. “Welcome to the Jade Sea.”

Y/N had to laugh and little Vēzos chirped at the noise. “Oh, sunshine. You never fail to surprise me.”

“My ladies!” The captain called out from behind the helm. “We only have a few moments before the Qartheen galleys stop us for taxes—I recommend you make the most of it.”

And that was how Y/N found herself diving off the side of the ship into the cool waters, uncaring that she had left her only weapon on the deck of the boat. Rhaenys was next to her, the folds of her dress floating around her like a sparkling sea creature. And little Vēzos, still unable to fly just yet, had taken to the water too, strangely enough. She flitted around the pair, yellow wings keeping her afloat.

This was paradise.

**

Oberyn- I cannot believe little Dorea has celebrated another nameday. It feels like yesterday you have told me of her coming into this world. Did she like the little jade sun we sent? Aegon had it commissioned at the market here in Qarth. The deal between the Pureborn and our little band of Dothraki and displaced regents is nearly solidified. We will have nearly twenty galleys with the small mountain of Valyrian steel we had reclaimed from the Rhoyne. (I, of course, have hidden several bits of armor and the lion-headed sword, and a few other weapons I had found, outside the city. Just in case. I am saving a spearhead I have found for you. I do hope you like it.) But it does seem like the deal is taking longer than I had ever anticipated. Or perhaps I should have anticipated it—the Pureborn, the warlocks, no one wants Valyrian steel. Not when dragons have come again. For now, everyone is safe. Thriving. I know you weren’t particularly keen on any of the names chosen for the hatchlings but I am still mostly unable to tell them no when they ask so sweetly. Drogon does seem to be the largest still, followed by Vēzos, then Aegon’s Viserion, and Jon’s little Rhaegal is still…little. Mayhaps that is a cosmic joke. But you should see them when they are all together. There is something magical there, powerful. The sun shines brightly on all of them. I am so proud. Please give Ellaria my love.

On the end of the fourth moon of their time in the city, the woman in the lacquered mask, the Shadowbinder Quaithe who still did not speak plainly no matter how much they insisted, appeared again in their rooms.

“You have not left the city, dragonriders.”

Y/N drew her sword but the masked woman did not flinch.

“What do you want?” Aegon asked.

“I have told you. You did not listen. Soon, you will not be permitted to leave the city. You all must learn the truth. And you must-”

“Pass beneath the Shadow,” Jon finished, obviously having heard the request before. “There is nothing for us in Asshai. Truth or otherwise.”

“You will learn.” The woman paused. “Do not trust the whisper.” And then she vanished, as if conjured by shadows herself and the door to their chambers burst open and the small khalasar filled in, shouting something in their language Y/N was still learning—but she caught “dragons” and “gone.” And that was all she needed. And her four charges all let out screams of anguish, as if they had lost limbs with the news. Perhaps that is what it felt like.

They all poured out of their temporary home and into the garden, past the dead bodies of a handful of Daenerys’ handmaidens, to see Pyat Pree and Xaro waiting for them. Y/N would not be able to recall anything they said, only the gist.

The other warlocks had stolen the dragons, seeking power. Xaro and Pyat Pree would lead the four (Aegon, Jon, Rhaenys, and Daenerys) to the House of the Undying, the warlocks’ seat of power in Qarth, where they were holding the hatchlings. In exchange, the two wanted Daenerys and her khalasar to help them establish a ‘new order’ in Qarth. They wanted to be kings.

In short, Daenerys agreed. She wanted nothing more than the hatchlings back and her niece and nephews happy again. But there were, of course, conditions. Only the four could go.

“This is ridiculous,” Y/N muttered.

But the four wanted to go, feeling the need—no matter how unsafe—to be near the hatchling that had chosen them.

“At least take a knife,” she said, pressing one of the (many) daggers she had into each of their hands when Xaro and Pyat had turned their backs. And that was all she could do. They would not be argued with. Y/N could only wish that she had been left in better company than Ser Jorah Mormont who seemed to be already in love with Daenerys. She did not like it. But she knew she could not always fight every battle for them, even if she wished she could, even if she wished she could shoulder the burden she knew they felt on their too-young shoulders. Their heartbreak, their anger, it was hers, too. And she would do anything she could to help make them smile again. And now? It seemed that meant waiting.

As the sun rose in the sky and then set and the moon soon followed, Y/N had not moved from the seat she had taken on the steps leading inside. Jorah had spoken to her, about his life in Westeros but she did not particularly care. He seemed to have received a lenient sentence for his crimes. But he had been proven loyal to Daenerys while Viserys had traded her to Drogo. An ally was an ally. Sending him away when they had so few this side of the Narrow Sea would be unwise.

Smoke rising on the horizon made her finally move from her seat.

But then the gate opened again and Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys came rushing back, each with their hatchling carefully held in their grasps.

“We must go! Now!” Daenerys said—she quickly said it again in Dothraki and the assembled khalasar splintered, quickly picking up anything worth value as they moved.

“Khaleesi? What happened?”

Daenerys did not answer—but Jon did. “It was a trap. We’ve killed them. We must leave.”

“Where are we going?” Y/N had to ask, following them back inside to gather her things and to help pilfer.

“We will figure it out later! We must go!”

With a sword in one hand and a golden candelabra in the other, Y/N felt a chill slide down her spine and she turned to see Quaithe again. The woman simply stared at her, unmoving for a heartbeat or two, and then she slithered from the shadows. “You are their shadow, my lady. The sharp shadow. A shark with dark teeth.”

“That is not helpful!” Y/N hissed in return.

“You will learn. Just as they have—they listened. They did not trust the whisper they heard.”

“Y/N! We must go!”

She turned at the sound of the outburst to see Aegon, arms full of sacks filled with thieved treasures and Viserion on his shoulder. When she turned back to Quaithe, she was gone. Again. Y/N pushed out a sigh and turned, dashing out of the manse and not looking back. They only stopped for a moment for Y/N to dig up her buried treasure.

“You could not help yourself, could you?”

“Now is not the time, Jon.”

When they reached the port, she could already hear the screams coming from the city. Whatever had transpired at the House of the Undying was clearly more than anyone could have anticipated. Some of the Valyrian steel they had meant to sell to the Pureborn was handed over to a captain of a large ship—large enough for them and the small khalasar—and fast enough, too. Quickly, she bought a bit of ink and parchment from a vendor who seemed nonplussed at all the commotion.

She needed help.

She needed Oberyn. She needed Willas.

I do not know where we are going after Qarth, I only know that both Rhaenys and Daenerys seem to be answering a call I cannot hear. Aegon and Jon follow where they lead. Toward destiny or ruin or both, I do not know. But I do know that I cannot do this without you. I cannot guide them without you. I need you. Please.

She wrote a few lines more on each of them, asking them to bring who they wanted, pleading with Oberyn to bring Ellaria, asking Willas to continue to write to her if he could not or would not come. All of it. For the first time in over a decade, she prayed to any of the deities she could remember as she signed her name. She shoved the pair of missives into a familiar captain’s hands along with a small sack of gold and told him where to have them sent as their small group boarded the boat. All she could do was hope.

**

Astapor would not have been her first choice.

It would not have been her fifteenth choice. But Jorah had convinced Daenerys that they needed an army, a true army, not the small khalasar that they currently had. The famed Unsullied of Astapor could provide that…supposedly.

But there was a certain set to her jaw, and an unspoken look between Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon that had Y/N thinking they all had ulterior motives. She had seen that same look between Ellia and Oberyn years ago, a silent conversation only they would understand. While it made her sad, it also made her hopeful. Hopeful for a future where they could all love and care for each other without fear.

Fear. A terrible thing.

Another reason why Astapor would have been avoided if she had been asked. But Ser Jorah had Daenerys’ ear and had filled her mind of thoughts of Unsullied. An army made entirely of men who would follow orders without question, who were thought to not feel pain or fear.

But, Y/N found that his words had soured the more he spoke of their ‘training’ and they stepped into the red-bricked city. Daenerys grew furious when they were given a ‘taste’ of the Unsullied and the good master, a terribly mustachioed man named Kraznys, had bragged about how they did not feed them or give them water for a day and a night and they would stand guard until they dropped. ‘Such is their obedience,’ his translator, a delicately beautiful young woman from Naath named Missandei said. All of it made Y/N’s skin crawl.

“Khaleesi. The Unsullied are chosen as boys and trained-”

“I have heard and seen all I care for about their training!” Daenerys hissed before she cracked a slap across Jorah’s cheek, tears glistening in her eyes as they retired back to the manse they had ‘graciously’ been given for the night.

Y/N glanced back at Aegon and Jon who suddenly found the manse’s ceiling very interesting but Rhaenys kept her eyes firmly trained on her aunt.

Jorah clutched at his reddened cheek. “If I have displeased my queen-”

“You have displeased me greatly, Ser. If you were my true knight, you would never have brought me to this vile sty.” Daenerys’ bottom lip trembled as if she wanted to say more but she kept quiet and turned to Y/N. “We should not have come here; I am so sorry.”

Y/N shook her head and drew Daenerys into her hold. She did not have words to soothe her. What could she say? But she watched Jorah slink from the room and kissed Daenerys’ forehead as she had done hundreds of times in Braavos. Before all of this. Before dragons.

“I want to help them,” Daenerys murmured as she pulled back from Y/N’s arms. “They are people in need of help. They do not… they do not deserve this. If we are in a position of power, should we not help them?”

“Our position of power is fragile and small,” she stressed the word. “We must be smart. There are thousands of them and only a few dozen of us.”

“That has never stopped you,” Rhaenys said with a smirk that had Y/N sighing. “And there might be thousands of them but we have dragons.”

“Baby dragons,” Y/N murmured.

“But dragons all the same,” Daenerys said, reaching out to Rhaenys who quickly took her hand.

“We have been running all our lives, unsafe for who we are. Unsafe because of something we did not chose. If… if I am to be queen, I do not want to know that there are people in this world in shackles when I had the power to help them.”

Aegon and Jon stepped up, hands on their swords. “We will help you.”

Y/N nodded. “In Skilliga, all people are free—we were looked down upon because of that by the supposed Free Cities and the Valyrian Empire before the Doom. I will fight this battle beside you. As always.”

And that is how they found themselves back in the revolting company of the good master. At first, they offered the small mountain of Valyrian steel. But, just as in Qarth, the ‘good masters’ of Astapor did not want Valyrian steel. They wanted dragons. And Kraznys always posed his questions to Aegon and Jon—as if Daenerys and Rhaenys were not there at all. Missandei, however, seemed to understand immediately that it was the women who were truly steering this possible transaction.

Y/N liked Missandei.

“We will need time to think of your offer,” Aegon said as he stood from his seat. The rest of them followed suit. There was no way any of the dragons were going to be forfeited for an army, but Kraznys did not need to know that just yet.

Kraznys sneered as he looked at them and Y/N did not need Missandei to translate his next insult. And she really didn’t think ‘stupid sunset girls’ really applied to all of them. At all. But that did not matter. When they arrived at the manse and one of Daenerys’s handmaidens, a petite woman named Irri, greeted them at the door, she was speaking rapidly, and pointing toward the manse’s solar.

For a moment, Y/N had the horrible thought that the hatchlings had been stolen again but then she caught the words “sun” and “prince.” And then she and Daenerys were darting away from the group and running toward where Irri had pointed.

She could hear them before she saw them.

But she turned a corner and saw a head full of brown curls and a familiar, shining black cane and her heart leapt into her throat as he turned to face her.

“My lady-”

She threw her arms around him in a hug and held him tight. “Oh, Willas. Oh my dear, sweet Willas. You’ve come.” And she nearly wept when she felt his arms wrap around her back and squeeze, she didn’t even care that the handle of his cane was digging into her spine. She didn’t care. He was here and in her arms.

“You have not changed at all, my lady,” he murmured as he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “Your latest letter was a…most welcome surprise.”

His warm hand gently cradled her cheek and she felt tears stinging at her eyes at the soft touch. It had been far too long since someone had touched her…at all. Especially with such care.

“I’ve missed you,” Willas whispered.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, to tell him that she had missed him more than she could have ever put into words and so she did not try, but then the rest of her brood were rushing by her and into the solar.

“Uncle Oberyn!” Rhaenys nearly wailed.

Y/N pulled back to see Rhaenys fling herself at Oberyn who was crying into her two-toned hair with a broad smile on his face. He was older now, true. But still as handsome.

Willas’s hand gently grasped hers and led her a little further into the room. “Let me introduce you to my fair traveling companions.” He smiled at her, as if feeling her sudden nerves through her hand as it clutched his. “They were kind enough to let me stowaway on their ship after we received your letters.” He laughed but then waved a hand at the woman nearest to him. She was tall with thick, wavy black hair, dotted with golden jewelry and soft yellow samite wrapped around her in a beautiful dress with a copper belt around her waist. “This is Lady Ellaria Sand.”

Ellaria was even more beautiful than Y/N could have ever imagined. She had a regal beauty and kind eyes. Her hands were soft as she reached for Y/N and she happily let the other woman pull her into her grasp in welcome. “It was kind of you to think of me.”

“I would not have Oberyn part with the love of his life,” Y/N said as she stepped back, still smelling Ellaria’s fine perfume. “It was kind of you to join us across the Narrow Sea. I hope your daughters did not mind the waves.”

Ellaria turned and smiled at the young girls who were already surrounding Aegon and Rhaenys and cooing over the still-growing hatchlings who preened with the attention. “This was their first ship ride of this length. But they are simply happy for a bit of adventure.”

Three more women were sitting with Jon and Daenerys, speaking quietly in the corner. “That is Nymeria, Obara, and Tyene,” Willas informed her in a whisper.

“Sarella is still at the Citadel?” Y/N asked.

Ellaria nodded with a chuckle. “I am sure it was a heavy decision for her. Oberyn has promised to bring her back all the relics our ship can hold.”

“And I shall deliver on that promise, will I not, my love?” Oberyn said, appearing at Ellaria’s side and kissing her slowly at the corner of her mouth before turning to Y/N. Before she could even try to think of an appropriate greeting, Oberyn reached out and his large hands were grasping at her face and he was kissing her. She was frozen, like a scared little mouse cornered by a viper. But he tasted delicious—like citrus and spice and heat. And as soon as it started, he stepped back. His smile was large, large still as he looked at her confused face. “It is good to see you, Little Shark.”

Willas’ warm hand on her back pulled Y/N back to reality before she glanced at Ellaria who only winked at her. This did nothing to ease her growing confusion but Y/N shuffled the group toward the small hall the manse provided, telling everyone to sit more comfortably instead of standing.

Oberyn told them of how the Usurper was dead and how the Seven Kingdoms had fallen into war. The War of the Five Kings they called it. “Your mother’s family,” Oberyn said as he looked at Jon, “seem to be the largest threat to the Lannisters. They have captured Jamie Lannister.”

Jon seemed pleased with that, in his own quiet way.

“Perhaps an alliance could be made,” Ellaria said. “It would be good to have a Northron ally,” She turned and smiled at Willas, “Aside from our sweet Willas and his band of fair flowers.”

Willas’ cheeks bloomed with color at Ellaria’s words. “My grandmother and I are ready whenever we are needed. Right now, we are letting Margaery play at being queen. She knows it will only be temporary, but she has been…trained by my grandmother in all the ways she knows to sway the opinion of the low and highborn. I am sure by the time we make landfall, they may be waiting for you all with open arms.”

“I do not believe it will be hard to sway them when Cersei Lannister and her little golden children are waging war and starving them,” one of the older Sand Snakes, Obara, muttered. Y/N liked Obara.

“But enough talk of Westeros! Tell us of your lives here in Essos.”

And so they did. They started from the beginning—the four of them told their family of how they jumped from city to city, evading assassins and would-lords in search of gold and glory, all while learning of their family and former homeland across the Narrow Sea. Rhaenys was nearly glowing as she recounted their time along the Rhoyne and everyone at the table seemed entranced, too, promising to see for themselves the land that had once belonged to their ancestors. And all of that led to Astapor and the possible deal with the good master.

“You cannot truly be thinking of giving him a dragon?” Tyene asked.

“I will play his game.” Daenerys slid her hand down Drogon’s neck and the ever-growing hatchling trilled as he looked at his mother, as if agreeing to what she wanted. “He will simply not know that it is my game, my rules.”

The rest of the night was spent filled with terrible Astapori wine and shared food and laughter. Y/N was yawning but smiled when she felt Willas’ fingers trace across the back of her neck as Balerion was curled contentedly on his lap beside her. He seemed to realize what he was doing and his hand snapped back to his side, disturbing the old cat who meowed, displeased, before leaping across the table to settle in Rhaenys’ hold.

“Sorry, my lady.”

But she shook her head, still smiling. “Never apologize.”

They spoke for a little longer before Dorea and Loreza started to fall asleep in their seats and Ellaria excused herself to tuck them into bed, letting Aegon lead the way to one of the guest rooms. The group dispersed, little by little, until it was only Y/N, Willas, and Oberyn left in the hall.

“I must take my leave, my lady,” Willas said with a yawn. “I am sure I will need all my energy for tomorrow.” He looked at her then, and she could not read his face though she tried. But his intentions became clear as his lips touched her cheek before his cane tapped against the floor as he retired for the night.

Y/N nearly leapt out of her skin when Oberyn’s hand enveloped hers when he settled beside her as she watched Willas walk away. But he only chuckled. “Peace, Little Shark, peace. It is just me.”

She huffed out a laugh and let her other hand cover his. “It is good to see you, truly. You and your family…you all seem so happy.”

“We are. My daughters are healthy and happy and Ellaria is the light of my days. And you,” he squeezed her hand, “you, little shark, have raised my sister’s children. You have kept them safe and healthy and happy.” He untangled their hands only to touch the sun pendant around her throat for a moment and a brief, sad smile pulled at his lips before he reached up to grasp her face again, gentle and warm. “You. Do not think to undermine yourself to me. You love them as they love you. You have taken on a responsibility you needn’t call yours—all because you loved my sister.” He kissed her forehead. “You have loved my family.” He kissed her right cheek and Y/N felt her breath stutter in her lungs. “You have helped them bring magic back into this wretched world.” He kissed her left. “And you…you still smile like the girl I knew all those years ago.” And then he kissed her again, brushing his lips against hers with a happy sigh and all Y/N could do was let him guide her, let him rob her lungs of air for the second time that night, let him fulfill a dream she had selfishly kept since her girlhood in Westeros.

But then she remembered Ellaria. Her hand found Oberyn’s chest and she gently pushed.

“What is it?” He asked, voice soft. “If I have overstepped-”

“The mother of your youngest is asleep in the other room, My Prince.”

“And she would take the time to kiss you properly as well. And she will, when or if you give her the opportunity.” His familiar roguish smile made her stomach twist with pleasant butterflies. “My heart may have found its match with my love, Ellaria, but that does not mean yours does not call to mine as well. We were made to delight in all the gods have given us. Ellaria and I often share in our delights. If you, my little shark, are amiable, I would like to keep kissing you. I would like for Ellaria to have her chance to kiss you, too.” And when she went to bed that night, slipping under her blankets, her mind hazed with thoughts of soft lips and kind words and the scent of roses she could not place.

The next day, they solidified the deal with Kraznys. He had tried to say he would only give them all of the Unsullied for all four dragons, but Daenerys stood firm and only agreed to one. The biggest. Drogon.

“And I shall take you as well,” Daenerys said as she turned to Missandei. “As a mark of a deal well struck.”

Missandei quickly translated to Kraznys who then waved a dismissive hand, allowing it. As if Missandei were not a person. It turned her stomach.

As soon as they were back at their manse, Rhaenys took the thick collar from around Missandei’s neck and threw it into the hearth, letting the leather smoke and burn.

“Is there a family on Naath we might reunite you with? A father, a mother?”

Missandei shook her head. “There is no one left of my family on Naath, your grace. This one is…alone.”

Daenerys reached out and gently took Missandei’s hands in her own. “You are no longer alone. You are with us. You are a free person—if you ever tire of our company, simply say so and we shall let you go wherever you wish. We will give you gold, a ship—anything you may need. I swear it.”

Missandei’s dark gold eyes searched Daenerys’ face before looking to Rhaenys and doing the same. “I will be able to leave?”

Rhaenys nodded. “Now, tomorrow, ten years from now. If you want to leave, we will make sure you are given all you require to make a comfortable life for yourself.”

“And what of the Unsullied who become yours tomorrow?”

Daenerys and Rhaenys wore matching, Cheshire smiles. “We have plans for them.”

**

“Are you certain of this plan?” Willas whispered as he watched Y/N place one of her (many) swords into its scabbard around her waist. They had been speaking all morning, of his time at Highgarden, of him traveling to Sunspear under the pretense of meeting with Princess Arianne, all of it. And she found herself realizing how easy it was to speak to him—how easy it had always been. But then the topic suddenly changed as he ask of the plan Daenerys and Rhaenys had hatched.

“I am,” she said.

“They are all destined to rule, in one way or another. They are queens; I am only an advisor. I must trust in their judgement.”

“And if it fails?”

“It won’t.” She slid another blade up her sleeve. “But I am never unprepared.” Y/N turned to Willas and smiled as she reached out to press a hand to his cheek. The mustache he had grown since she had last seen him suited him. He was always so handsome. “It is good to have you here. I shudder to think of the state of my nerves if you had refused my call.”

Willas smiled and reached up to cover her hand with his. “You know I could never refuse you, my lady.”

Y/N wanted to say more—wanted to say something, anything—but Aegon appeared in the doorway of her chambers before she could. Her hand snapped back down to her side. “It is time to go, Y/N.” His dark purple eyes shifted to Willas, “and you as well, my lord.”

Y/N nodded and stepped away from Willas with a strange, shaking smile.

In a strange procession, their group, growing by the day, arrived back at the Plaza of Pride (a stupid name). Drogon had been wrestled into a small cart that morning, his little belly filled with fine steak and Daenerys had peppered kisses along his scaled head before she had sealed him away. The battalions of Unsullied were all standing at rest, spears and shields held in front of them. Slowly, Daenerys walked to the small cart and undid its strappings, pulling Drogon from his makeshift cage with the chain on his foot. He pulled against his bonds as he neared the master. He knew.

“Is it done then? They belong to us?”

The master answered and Missandei translated. “It is done. You hold the whip.”

But the master continued talking, once again calling them all a bunch of bitches and mongrels but Daenerys did not flinch. She merely turned toward the army she now commanded and held up the whip.

“Unsullied!” Daenerys called out in her perfect High Valyrian. Y/N watched Missandei’s head snap around to look at the petite woman.

They instantly moved to attention.

“March forward!” They did. “Halt!” They did.

Y/N looked to Daenerys and then to the other three, seeing them all strangely calm. They were conquerors. They were blood of Old Valyria. They were Nymeria’s heirs. They were her charges.

“Tell the bitch the beast will not come,” the master said as Drogon continued to pull against his hold.

Daenerys slowly turned to face him, still holding the whip. “A dragon is not a slave.”

“You speak Valyrian?” He asked, aghast. But still not embarrassed.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue.”

Aegon had to hide his smile behind his hand.

But then Daenerys turned back toward the Unsullied, her face set in stone. “Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!”

And they did. In the next breath, the handful of masters walking at the flanks of the Unsullied had spears through their backs.

“I am your master!” The man screamed. “Kill her! Kill them all!”

“Dracarys.”

Y/N watched Drogon open his mouth and scream. Fire consumed the ‘good master’ and he screamed, too. It was a glorious scene. And, all at once, the square devolved into chaos. The assorted masters, who had come to witness the glory of the dragon, were killed where they stood. Jorah drew his sword but Y/N simply crossed her arms and watched everything unfold.

And, it was over within a span of only a few moments. The slavers were burnt and bloody. Dead. As they should be. But they were not finished.

Daenerys and her niece and nephews mounted their horses and rode through the Unsullied ranks. “Unsullied!” Daenerys called out. “You have been slaves all your life. Today, we give you freedom.”

“Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. We give you our word,” Aegon said next. Y/N looked out to see a few of the helmeted men covertly glance up at him.

“Will you fight for us? As free men?” Daenerys’ voice rang out and was met with silence. For a moment. And then a single spear was smacked against the sand. Another joined. And then another. And another until the plaza was filled with the sound of the strange sound of the spears in sand.

They had their army. The city was theirs.

**

They did not leave Astapor immediately. They could not leave the city unguarded or without a stable ruling body. And a way to stabilize the economy.

The city needed to rebuilt from the destruction and just…overall. It was not well kept outside the former masters’ manses. Weeks turned to months as they met with the city’s population, trying to establish a ruling council of men and women who knew the city best and wanted to see it thrive. The Valyrian steel they still had was traded for brick and mortar, food, and medicines. Weapons. And while the city seemed to be getting its metaphorical feet back under itself again, it did nearly deplete their coffers. The gold from the dead masters was seized and redistributed to the freedmen to make sure they could provide for themselves as they settled into the new normal of the city and started their new lives.

The new Kings and Queens of the city took up residence in one of the manses and Balerion found the large open windows a favorite place to nap when he was not harassing the hatchlings, unafraid of their literal ability to breathe fire.

Rhaenys met with a small council of freedmen who had been in charge of the city’s infrastructure and had devised a plan to irrigate the city and its surrounding lands by diverting the water from Astapor’s river, which had been called Worm since the city’s inception. A terrible name, if Y/N was being honest.

But the irrigation was quickly done with new aqueducts and small orchards for plums and olives and lemons were planted, the small khalasar carrying in the plants from outside the city. A vineyard for persimmons was also widened in the center of the city, as Rhaenys knew that Astapor had the ability to make a fairly expensive and tart wine with the fruit. It made Y/N smile to realize that Rhaenys had a gift for creating (an albeit small) fertile wetland out of patch of a desert landscape.

Schools were fitted into the empty manses and training schools were established. It was slow work, true, but Y/N could not argue with the tired smiles that she saw on her charges faces each night as they gathered for dinner.

Jon and Aegon were fond of training alongside the Unsullied who were also helping other freedmen learn how to handle a sword and shield. The army was a force to be feared, truly. Grey Worm, the man they had elected to speak as their commander, had become another advisor. He spoke only High Valyrian as the rest of the Astapor did, but Missandei had been taking the time to teach who she could the Common Tongue. He was a man of the sword in all ways—but Y/N did see how his eyes softened ever so slightly whenever Missandei was in his presence. Small rebellions from former masters were quickly dealt with. There would be no room for it under their new rule. Oberyn and Willas were firm and fair advisors to the four younger regents. When to dispense bloody justice and when to stay their hand, how to broker trade with foreign kingdoms and settle arguments and disputes between their subjects—they provided guidance that Y/N and Ser Jorah could not. Missandei was a voice of the people and helped them truly know their subjects. She was the strongest of them all, Y/N was sure of it. Ellaria had a strength of her own, endearing herself and the young regents to anyone and anyone she encountered by showering them with gold for their trades and commissioning songs.

And the hatchlings were growing even faster, larger by the day. Y/N often went to market in the mornings to buy goats and cows to feed them when the others were still asleep, trying to keep the dragons from eating someone’s livestock without being compensated for it (again).

Drogon nudged her side as she dragged the fresh meat toward him and she patted his warm snout in greeting. “Good morning to you, too.”

Viserion and Rhaegal were still sleeping, curled around each other over the remnants of a fire that had been burnt last night. But Vēzos was already high in the sky, yellow and orange scales glittering in the early morning glow. But she landed after spotting her breakfast and let out a puff of smoke around Y/N’s face in thanks before she devoured her share.

“Y/N!”

She turned abruptly at the sound of Jon’s voice and frowned when she saw the unhidden panic on his pale features. Rhaegal suddenly rose from the embers of his bed and huffed, sensing his bonded’s dread. “What is it?”

**

Mayhaps Y/N should not have been surprised to see Xaro amongst the ‘envoys’ from the other slaver cities. It was not as if they had left Qarth on the best of terms…or unscathed.

“We will give you all the boats and soldiers you want or will need to retake Westeros, as long as you leave Slaver’s Bay. Immediately. And allow us to rectify the mess you have made of Astapor.”

“Removing shackles is a mess? Freeing men, women, and children is a mess?”

Drogon and Rhaegal both rumbled from behind their parents and the envoys all stumbled back, some tripping over their ornate robes and gilded slippers.

“It is our way of life!” Someone from Yunkai shouted, voice trembling.

“And their lives have value—more than the coin that line your palms.”

“Astapor is prospering,” Oberyn said. “Our coffers are twice as plentiful now with our wines and citrus and olives as they were when they traded in flesh and bone.”

“And your slaves have heard,” Rhaenys said. She looked regal on the throne beside her brothers and aunt. The Astapori gown she had commission from a freedwoman was made of a beautiful soft yellow linen and her hair was braided with a pair of golden bells at the end, a gift from Irri who had said she had earned it by helping take Astapor and the defeat of the Warlocks in Qarth. “They have heard of our people prosper. How they are free.” And that was true, there had been whispers of a start of an uprising in Yunkai and Meereen since they had taken Astapor.

“You are suggesting that we should free our slaves for a chance-”

“You were the ones to demand an audience,” Daenerys said. “And we were gracious enough to grant your request. But now that you are here, we do have a request. Free your slaves, pay them for their labor from the time you have sought to own them, and set aside your whips and chains.”

“We will not!” “Never!” On and on, the envoy refused.

“The Harpy will have her due!”

Aegon moved in front of Rhaenys, not even bothering to put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “The Harpy is a legend. A statue you have all built from the gold you have accumulated through the blood of innocents. We have four very real dragons and an army better trained and better equipped than your pampered slavers. Send your harpies.”

**

Y/N groaned as she saw yet another slash she had not remembered receiving when she was readying for bed that night. She had taken to sparring with Jon and Aegon alongside the Unsullied who were not on guard or patrol duties. It had apparently been far too long since she had dedicated time to training of that caliber—not that any of them could even hope to compare to Grey Worm and his compatriots. For now, the threats from Yunkai, Meereen, and Qarth had been unfulfilled. But they were still on their guard. But she did take a few moments of the day to help Dorea and Loreza and Obella work on their fighting stances. Elia, the eldest of the Sand Snakes born to Ellaria, was already very comfortable with her spear and had been taking to training with the Unsullied. Well, they were very patient with her and very gentle—as gentle as they could be. They were a fearsome bunch.

Y/N pulled the linen chemise over her head and reached for her dressing gown after cleaning the small wound.

“My lady,” a soft spoken handmaiden stuck her head into the chambers. “You have a visitor.”

“Send them in, please. I am just about decent enough for company.”

The handmaiden laughed quietly and nodded as Y/N tied the sash around her waist.

“Willas has been quite beneficial—he seems to have a magic touch when it comes to those persimmon trees. They bloom more every day.”

Y/N smiled as she turned to see Oberyn walking into the room. “Well, I have been told he is quite good with anything green. I would not be surprised if he and Rhaenys managed to raise a forest to rival Qohor from the sand.”

Oberyn chuckled and he held out a hand toward her. “Come, take a walk with me before you rest for the night. The night is cool enough for us to enjoy the moonlight.”

Y/N happily took his offered arm and let him lead her out to the gardens around their manse. And it was true, the air was cool and she could hear the faintest rumblings of the sea alongside the murmurs of the city. The gardens were still blooming with flowers despite the heat and the strange flora was a welcome respite from the red brick and sand of the city. It curved and cornered in a strange maze, leading around small fountains, and statues of legendary creatures, never reaching higher than their waists.

“How are your daughters finding the bay?”

“They find the air much like that of Dorne, so they do not mind the heat. But they do enjoy putting their Valyrian lessons to use and trying to learn all they can from the Unsullied.”

“They are formidable.”

Oberyn chuckled. “I would have them no other way. Dorne may be kinder than the other kingdoms of Westeros, but I would not have them unprepared for the rest of the world.” He squeezed her hand. “Just as you have made sure that the four under your care are prepared as well.”

“I have tried my best, my prince.”

Oberyn pulled them to a stop as they neared a bench and they settled next to each other and watched two of the dragons test their wings above them. “We have entered a new world. Dragons have come again. The Martell bloodline is conquering cities.”

“They want to make it a better world. And I want to see them succeed.”

“I will help them in all of their goals, I swear that to you.”

Y/N smiled, knowing what he said was true. She had never known him to break an oath.

“It seems, little shark, that we are not the only ones who thought of admiring the gardens tonight,” Oberyn whispered. He pointed toward the other side of the maze with a growing smile. Willas was standing at Ellaria’s side, looking as red as could be and trying to hide it behind his hand. Ellaria was smiling at him as if she hadn’t a care in the world—but the glint in her beautiful eyes told Y/N that Ellaria knew exactly the effect she was having on the lord.

“He does not quite know how to hold his wine,” Oberyn said with a smirk. “If given too much, he would accept any challenge.”

“Is that why there is now a golden pearl on his ear, my prince?”

Oberyn only chuckled. “You must admit, he looks quite dashing.”

“Yes, he does. But you know I’ve always been fond of his shy smile.”

“And he has been fond of you.”

Y/N clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Perhaps when I was younger, still a young wife in the making with connections to a royal court or two. It has been ages since I have made him smile like that.”

Now it was Oberyn’s turn to shake his head. “Little Lord Willas, heir to one of the most powerful kingdoms in Westeros, has remained unmarried and unattached since you disappeared from Dragonstone, little shark. And it is not for lack of trying from the many unmarried women who know of his status.”

It would be a lie to say that her heart did not clench when it was said aloud and so bluntly. “It would be foolish to think-”

“Despite his family’s animosity, he and I have…become friends.”

“Friends?” Y/N parroted with an arch of her eyebrow.

Oberyn’s wolfish smile made her stomach flip, as it always did. “You know I treat my friends well.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, biting her lip. “No wonder he has remained unmarried. Who could compete with the Red Viper?”

Oberyn’s warm hand settled over hers and squeezed. “You know I am not opposed to having a married person in my bed. It was not me who kept him from calling someone wife.”

Y/N scoffed. “You cannot be insinuating that I-”

“I’m not insinuating anything, little shark. I am telling you. The man has been in love with you since you first came to Westeros. When he was still a shy young thing and you were the foreign maid who acted as my sister’s shadow.”

“We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. I am now old enough to be considered an old maid-”

“And the heart wants what the heart wants. He has come half way across the world because you asked him to. Now, tell me, why did you ask him?”

“I…” She tried to think of an answer. Because he had helped her flee. Because he was a friend. Because because because. But none of those reasons seemed like the truth. “I do not know.”

**

A small skirmish had broken out on the borders of Astapor. The sellsword company known as the Windblown had allegedly been hired by Yunkai to deal with the ‘dragon kings and queens.’ It, of course, hadn’t worked and they were pushed back the Unsullied.

The fight had only given them all credence to continue to feed the rebellions in the other cities and slowly cut off their supply chains at the mouth of the bay. This morning, Y/N was reviewing the takings from the ships they had seized when she noticed a familiar face was missing.

“Where has Oberyn gone?” Y/N asked as she entered the kitchens, finding Ellaria there, pouring a bit of honey over a bowl of berries.

“He set off in the night, some mission on his mind.”

“You did not go with him?” Y/N asked as she slipped into the seat beside her, plucking a handful of berries from the bowl. “I am surprised he would not have you at his side.”

Ellaria chuckled and shook her head. “He asked, but I did not think our daughters would like to be too far from the excitement of the cities.” She popped a berry between her beautiful lips with a growing smile. “And I did hope we could know each other a little better. Oberyn always speaks of you so fondly. I feel as if we are friends already.”

Y/N felt a wash of warmth as she looked at the other woman and nodded. “I feel that way as well. But I would be honored if I could steal a bit of your time today, if your daughters would not mind.”

Ellaria gave her another dashing smile. “I am sure they will survive a few hours without me.”

And so, Y/N let Ellaria lead her around the city, mostly through the markets that Y/N had not had the chance to truly peruse. And it was true, they had settled into a camaraderie that usually took years to build. Ellaria might have been the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen, but she was also kind and funny and had a sharp wit with a matching, striking smile. Y/N only wished she’d had the fortune of having her as a friend years ago—but Y/N would take what she could get now. And hold to it desperately.

“This?” Y/N held up a pale lilac bit of silk, they had been trying to find the right fabric for a new dress for Y/N—apparently Ellaria found Y/N’s lack of dresses something to be rectified.

Ellaria shook her head and picked up a stretch of red lace, filled with delicate flowers with tiny golden thread woven within. Ellaria draped it over Y/N’s shoulder with a smile. “This suits you. The flowers. Just a touch of gold. It is delicate—like you.”

Y/N chuckled and let her finger slide against the edge of the lace. “I do not think I have ever been called delicate.”

Ellaria’s soft fingers gently grasped Y/N’s chin and there was a steely determination in her gaze as she looked into Y/N’s eyes. “You are delicate, Y/N. Your skin and soul may have been forged in steel, but your heart is delicate. You have a soft, gentle heart. And you are ever the more beautiful for it.” Her hand moved to cradle Y/N’s cheek, surely feeling its warmth. “Do you not see yourself as I do?”

“Apparently not,” Y/N said with a shake of her head, not too rough to have Ellaria’s touch leave.

“You are,” she said and then leaned close enough to just barely brush her lips against hers before she pulled the lace from around Y/N’s shoulders and turned back to the merchant. “We will take all of this. Thank you.”

And then Ellaria was all but hauling her back into the cooled shadows of their manse and out into the gardens again, dropping their lace and silks off into the hands of a smiling handmaiden who giggled as they walked by.

It was just the pair of them in the garden, listening to the trickling of water and the wind as it rustled the rigged leaves and branches of the maze. But all Y/N could feel, see, hear, was Ellaria.

Ellaria and her beautiful lips.

Ellaria’s mouth was soft as it moved against hers. And she sighed so prettily when Y/N tangled her fingers into her thick hair and tugged.

“Oh.”

Y/N pulled away from Ellaria’s beautiful mouth to see Willas standing near one of the fountains, a pink tinge to his cheeks and a white-knuckle grip on his cane.

“Lord Willas,” Ellaria called out, her voice husky, “join us.”

Willas looked away, cheeks still roaring with color, and shook his head. “I am afraid I would only…get in the way.” He cleared his throat and turned. “Please, excuse me.”

Y/N watched him go, mind clearing for a moment, and frowned.

Ellaria dragged her lips against Y/N’s cheek. “He will join us when he’s ready. I promise you that.” She sponged a kiss at the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “But I do not want to be interrupted again. If you are agreeable, I want to see what you have hiding under this hideous tunic.”

And well, Y/N could never tell her no and led her back to her chambers and locked the door.

Ellaria was even softer beneath her fine, silk dress that Y/N slowly pushed down her arms to greedily cup her full breasts in her hands.

“Eager,” Ellaria said with a breathy chuckle.

Y/N could only whine against her mouth as she felt Ellaria’s nimble fingers slide easily beneath the tops of her leather breeches. They were pushed down her legs and her loose tunic was pulled up and over her head before Ellaria all but shoved her back onto the featherbed, watching her bounce with a smile. Y/N didn’t even have thought to be a little shy over her nakedness—she just wanted Ellaria close again. And then Ellaria was crawling up the bed and settling across Y/N’s stomach, warm thighs bracketing her ribs. And there was something nearly magical with knowing she was the cause of the slick spot she could feel growing just above her belly button. She had made Ellaria feel like that.

Y/N’s hands slid up her smooth skin to hold her hips and Ellaria’s hands settled over hers with a widening smile.

“I like seeing you like this,” Ellaria said before leaning down to lick across Y/N’s mouth before kissing her thoroughly, oh so easily stealing the breath from her lungs. Then she moved. Her lips trailed down Y/N’s neck, to her chest, teeth scraping against the curve of her breasts as she slid down Y/N’s body, and dragged her slick lips against Y/N’s skin. Her mind was a warm mess—all there was, was Ellaria and her beautiful mouth. Ellaria and her perfect hands. Ellaria and her wet tongue.

Ellaria slipped between Y/N’s legs and kissed her left hip and then her right before licking a bold stripe against Y/N’s folds, wrenching a broken moan from her lips. “So pretty,” Ellaria cooed. And her grip tightened. Again and again the Dornishwoman’s tongue curled and twisted and Y/N could feel an unfamiliar coil start to tighten in her stomach as her thighs suddenly clamped around Ellaria’s head. The woman only laughed against her core and the vibrations had Y/N moaning, hands reaching down to tangle in Ellaria’s perfect, perfumed hair. Ellaria managed to wriggle her hand between them and curled one finger and then two into the wet heat of Y/N’s core and started to slide them in and out, in and out, wet sounds filling the air alongside Y/N’s growing moans.

It was perfect. She was perfect. And as soon as Ellaria curled her fingers, the coil snapped and Y/N sobbed. Her heart was racing, sweat and dotted her chest and brow but she felt beautiful and her vision cleared and she looked down to see Ellaria pressing her cheek against her hip, drawing shapes against her heated skin with the dull nail of her forefinger.

“You must teach me how to do that. I want to make you feel like this.”

And so…Ellaria did.

**

The next morning, Ellaria was still sleeping peacefully, tangled in Y/N’s silken blankets as she rose with the sun. Y/N gently pressed a kiss to her cheek and slipped away from her comforting warmth to ready for the day and found Daenerys sitting on one of the manse’s balconies, watching the four hatchlings soar above the gardens as the sun grew hotter and higher in the sky. Y/N sat beside her and had a bit of food brought out so they could break their fast together. Daenerys seemed…happy. Truly. Happier than she had been since Y/N had seen her last, as a child. But there was something she was not saying. Y/N knew it.

“Tell me what is on your mind, Dany.” She reached out and gently grasped the young princess’ hand and squeezed three times.

“I do not…” She paused. “I was born on Dragonstone. I am the princess of the rightful ruling family.” She pushed out a long breath. “I will see my niece on the Iron Throne and I know the kingdom will be better for it.”

“But?” Y/N asked, knowing there was something else that needed to be said.

“But I do not know if Westeros is my home. I have no memories of it. Jon and Aegon do not either but they still feel some sort of calling, a need to go back.” The wind blew a bit of her silver hair across her face as she looked out across the bay. “I do not feel that. Viserys sold me for the throne he thought he deserved and I found a small bit of solace in my few friends in my khalasar and then more here with the Unsullied and the freedmen of the bay.”

Y/N watched a few emotions flitter across Daenerys’ face before she turned back to the bay, too. “You have been pushed and pulled to one place or another your entire life, Dany. Finding a place where you feel at home is something to be proud of. Do not let other people’s opinions or aspirations dictate yours. You deserve a home. Peace.”

“And where is your home? Skilliga?”

Y/N shrugged. “Skilliga has housed me and raised me just as much as Westeros and Essos has, I suppose. I know my uncle and cousins are safe and happy there. I know that I will be able to hear and taste the sea from my rooms again if I ever went back.” She sighed. “But I think I have seen too much of the world to be happy on my little island again, for the rest of my life.”

“Mayhaps you can find a home with Lord Willas. I have heard how he calls on you—ever so sweetly.”

Y/N groaned. “Not you as well, Dany!”

The girl only laughed.

Y/N sighed. “Either way, if you want to stay in Essos, you can. What is a few thousand miles to a dragon, hm? Nothing. Your family will never be too far.” She tugged at the end of Daenerys’ braid and listened to the Dothraki bells she had earned ring. “But you mustn’t think of it just yet, Dany. We still have so much more to do.” She pressed a smile to her face. “We have time.”

Daenerys giggled and shook her head. “And we still have so much to do this side of the Narrow Sea.”

**

It had been ages since Y/N had thought of sacking a city. She used to dream of it as a little girl, bringing home riches and other pretty things to fill her rooms and make her parents proud. But perhaps her parents were more bloodthirsty than the rest of Skilliga—and that had been why Uncle Hammond had sent her away to Westeros, to try to quell that need for violence with the niceties of a foreign court and responsibility. But, she had to ask herself as she looked over the maps of the cities and waterways and tunnels, that hadn’t quite worked, had it?

Obara and Nymeria were near-master tacticians, easily finding ways Y/N did not see to surround the city and infiltrate even the thickest of defense walls. But their true expertise, it seemed, in planning diversions.

“I can take a small battalion of freedmen to the west gate and use the two battering rams we have made from the scraps of Valyrian steel.”

“That will give Grey Worm’s host enough of time to march through the South Gate which will be raised by Belwas.”

Dorea was seated on Y/N’s lap, as she often was during war room discussions, moving the pieces across the war map along with her sisters’ plans. Y/N never did mind when she first crawled atop her legs without invitation but had welcomed her every time it happened. She reminded Y/N of the quietly intelligent but playful Rhaenys used to be.

“I like this color,” Dorea said, holding up the Martell orange token embellished with the familiar red dragon of House Targaryen.

“It is pretty, is it not?” Y/N answered. “Can you put that at the West Gate for me?”

The little girl did happily.

“Thank you, Dorea,” She said as she gently swept Dorea’s hair away from her forehead, it had fallen from the intricate braid Ellaria had woven this morning. “We shall make a strategist out of you yet.”

She happily laughed and it drew more smiles from Obara and Nymeria. “I’m hungry.”

“I think the kitchens are just about ready for luncheon, little one. Why don’t you go see?”

Dorea leapt from Y/N’s lap and scurried away with another laugh.

“You are good with her.”

“I have had plenty of practice.”

“When you have your own, I am sure even the nurses will know less than you.”

Y/N huffed at Nymeria’s well-intentioned remark. “I am not sure if I will have any of my own.”

“Why not?” Obara asked, arching one of her dark eyebrows. “It is obvious you crave for some of your own.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond when the door to the war room opened and Tyene ran inside, her pale cheeks were filled with color and her eyes darted to her sisters.

“Someone has breached our walls.”

Y/N was running out of the room before she could hear the rest of what Tyene had said—she sprinted toward the kitchens, where she knew her charges were probably gathering for their next meal.

And she was, unfortunately, correct.

And it seemed the intruder knew their schedule as well.

Two men with golden harpy masks had Daenerys at the end of their swords. Little Dorea was standing behind her, eyes narrowed. The bodies of the kitchen maids were on the floor, crimson puddles staining the marble floors.

Y/N had meant to sneak up on them. Truly. They hadn’t noticed her presence just yet-

But Aegon and Jon burst in through the other door and drew the harpies’ attention. They pivoted and their swords raised. Y/N shoved Aegon out of the way and felt the warm steel sink into her stomach. And then it happened again, the blade finding the bone of her hip as it broke through. Blood bubbled in her mouth with her next breath and she watched, in a haze, as Jon took one of the men’s head from his shoulders.

“Y/N?” Rhaenys’ voice was fading in her ears as she fell to her knees, she barely saw her eldest standing in the kitchen doorway.

There was a scuffle with the other man, but she hardly noticed, feeling her heart beat in time with the warmth coating her hands. It drip drip dripped onto the marble in an uneven staccato.

It took her a moment to realize that both Rhaenys and Daenerys were trying to speak to her, their little hands pressing over her wounds and trying to staunch the bleeding.

“That hurts,” Y/N said, words tumbling from her mouth without thought. Of course it hurt. She had been stabbed.

“I cannot do this without you,” Rhaenys cried.

“You will be just fine, sunshine.”

Daenerys was yelling for the healers as Aegon and Jon held the other Harpy on his knees.

“Don’t speak like that,” she whispered. “I need you.”

Y/N wanted to say something, wanted to say that she knew Rhaenys and her brothers and aunt would be fine—they would shape the world into a better place with Oberyn, Ellaria, and Willas at their side. She knew because she had seen it—that maybe a bit of the old magic had finally stirred in her foreigner blood. But her blood was currently filling her mouth and her world went dark.

**

She remembered very little from her time under the healer’s hands. Pain, the smell of Milk of the Poppy, someone was crying. And then nothing. Nothing.

Nothing until a warm, soft hand gently cradled her cheek. “I will wait,” someone whispered. “I have waited years, I can wait a few moons longer.”

But she woke, fully, as soon as she could and was told that her movements would be stilted and painful for some time.

Willas was at her side when her eyes opened, clear for the first time in weeks even if her brain did still feel fogged with the Milk of the Poppy. “It is good to see your beautiful eyes again, my lady. We have all missed you.” She spotted Balerion at the foot of the featherbed, looking more content to be in her presence than he had ever been before.

Y/N reached out and scratched behind Balerion's ears before she touched Willas' hand and watched his shoulders sag, as if he had been carrying some unseen weight across his back and had finally been relieved of it. “I mean this in the best way, my lord. But you look as if you have not rested in weeks.”

Willas huffed. “I have not. Most of us have not. We have been taking shifts to be at your side. The healers have said it would be best to keep an eye on you. Lady Ellaria just left, she has been the most dutiful to be at your bedside beside Her Grace, Rhaenys. Oberyn has been diligent in making sure your wrappings were changed.” He squeezed at her hand. “Do I truly look so unwell?”

Y/N smiled, feeling her dry lips crack with the motion. “Still handsome. As always, my lord.”

“Please, call me Willas.”

“We are alone, I suppose it could be appropriate-”

“Always, please, simply call me Willas. We have known each other long enough. Willas. I am Willas just as you are my Y/N.”

“My Willas.” She liked the sound of it. She liked it even more when his cheeks once again bloomed a pretty pink. “Tell me, my Willas, what have I missed since I have come to this bed?”

Apparently she had missed quite a bit.

Yunkai and Meereen had both fallen under the weight of the combined armies of the Unsullied, trained Freedmen, and the Second Sons—and bolstered by the revolts Aegon and Grey Worm had started by slipping into the cities under the cover of darkness to speak to anyone who would listen. Daenerys had united almost all of the Dothraki under a single khalasar and had been named the Great Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, commanding a group of Dothraki the world had never seen. Ser Jorah had been sent away after it had been discovered that he had been sending information to King Robert about the movements of Daenerys and Viserys and had been the reason assassins had been able to track them across Essos. Norvos and Qohor had freed their slaves without the threat of dragons—both cities cited the coming of dragons and magic and prophecy (but Y/N hypothesized that the Dothraki might have ‘helped’ their decision). It was all very…strange. Whispers from the red priests and priestess of the Red God of R’hllor, the Lord of Light, were spreading through all of western Essos, calling the four The Princes who were Promised. Azor Ahai, a prophesized hero. And Oberyn had contracted his old sellsword company, the Second Sons, bringing them under his employ to help bolster their forces. That was where he had gone, apparently he had returned only a few moments after Y/N had been carted off to the healers. Blood was still covering the kitchen when he had come in.

“I have only seen him so distressed once before,” Willas said, still holding her hand.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Lady Ellaria, after bringing little Loreza into the world, she kept…bleeding. And Loreza was called ‘sickly’ and ‘weak.’ The maesters told him to expect to lose them both before the sun went down. I have never seen a man so in love and so enraged. He raged at the world. Pleaded with the gods, cursed them. Oberyn threw the maesters out of the palace and sent for a healer from the Orphans of the Greenblood, an elder wise woman who kept the old gods of the Rhoynar. And she came. When the moon rose, Ellaria was holding little Loreza to her breast and she was smiling.” His thumb drew small circles on the back of her hand. “He only smiled again when he kissed them, moon high in the sky and with river water on his skin.” He sighed and a small smile pushed up his lips. “And then he saw you, covered in your own blood and about to welcome the Stranger with both arms. And I saw that desperate, raging man again.”

Y/N looked at him then, watched his untamed, dark curls fall over his forehead and she reached out with her free hand to gently push them back. Willas leaned into her touch and her heart leapt into throat when he turned his face just the slightest bit to slide his lips against the pulse of her wrist. “But I am here now. I am healing.”

“You are. But there is much more to do, is there not? And you will not stop. Not while your hatchlings, Aegon, Rhaenys, Jon, and Daenerys, still need you.” His grip tightened on her hand just a moment. “You will not stop,” he repeated.

“You know I cannot.”

“Then I will be beside you until this is finished.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “And I still have more to tell you.”

The declarations of war from Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, and Pentos were more of what she was expecting. The might of Braavos and the few war ships little Lorath had were pledged to the Martells’ and Targaryens’ cause.

War had come to Essos again.

**

Y/N supposed she should not have been surprised that a few hundred people decided to leave the Bay and follow them toward the Free Cities. Leaving a city in search of a better life was something she had done, many times over.

Volantis had fallen, surrendered and another city had been added to the growing empire. Like in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen, they had settled in the city and weeded out possible uprisings and subterfuge while redistributing the former masters’ wealth and resources to those who deserved it.

When they continued on, part of their army was left to help protect them and help the new council of Freedmen who had pledged loyalty to Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys.

But before they moved on toward the Free Cities, who were already warring with Braavos and a few battalions sent by Qohor and Norvos, they stopped, once again, at Chroyane.

“I have never seen anything more beautiful,” Oberyn said, a large smile splitting his face. “Even in ruin, she is magnificent.”

The two littlest of the Sand Snakes shrieked at the sight and all but leapt from their horse and into the clear river water. Ellaria laughed as she watched them before tying up her skirt to follow suit.

It was a welcome reprieve. Y/N’s scars ached when she moved too quickly sometimes and the constant jostling of her mare sometimes only made it worse. It felt good to dip her feet into the cooled waters and listen to the children laugh and splash in the river. Balerion once again watched one of the giant turtles with calculating eyes as he let the sun warm his black fur.

Oberyn settled at Y/N’s side on the bank of the river and watched the sun set in a quiet companionship. “I never thought I would see this. I never thought the sun would shine on this part of the world again. And here it is, as beautiful as ever.”

“It is almost as if the Mother Rhoyne was simply waiting for them,” Y/N said, tilting her head just so to indicated Rhaenys and Aegon who were now splashing around with Ellaria and her daughters, dodging Tyene and Nymeria’s hands as they tried to dunk them into the slow moving waves.

The four dragons trilled above them in the crystal blue sky, as content as their bonded.

Oberyn’s roughened, warm hand settled over hers on the bank. Without a word, he leaned into her and pressed a slow kiss against the side of her neck but she felt him smile against her skin as she shivered. “You are magnificent, little shark. I owe you, my family owes you a great debt.”

“I am owed nothing. I only want to see them grow and succeed. I love them.”

“And they love you,” Oberyn said as he sat back to look at her, smile at her in the sun. “My family loves you. I love you.”

Her heart stuttered. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. You have made it easy.”

Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, hiding her smile before Oberyn’s finger hooked under her chin and he kissed her briefly.

“Papa!” Dorea called out. “Come play with us!”

Y/N drew back to see his daughters waving him forward, all of them positively drenched. “Go,” Y/N said with a laugh. “You are being summoned.”

Oberyn kissed her cheek before rising and then making a show of running and jumping into the river near them, splashing them all in one motion.

Y/N roared with laughter at the scene but quickly stood when she saw Nymeria and Ellaria turn their gazes to her, hands cupped with water and ready to splash. “Not today!” Y/N stumbled to her feet and managed to evade most of the aimed water as she laughed.

She walked barefoot through the ruins and over the riverbank, seeing their traveling party all partaking in the clean water and cool air. For a moment, there was peace. She spotted Missandei and Grey Worm quietly speaking on the broken stone of a palace, their feet in the water. Irri and Jhiqui were happily watering their horses further downstream while a few other members of the khalasar were racing their mounts through the tall, green grass. Daenerys and Jon were both pulling more weapons from the muck at the opposite bank and handing them off to whomever was by.

But it was Willas, sitting a little further away from the river, which caught her eye. He was cross-legged on the green grass, fiddling with something on his lap while his cane was settled beside him. The sun was shining on his dark hair, curls once again a bit mussed.

“What are you making?”

“A crown,” Willas said, cheeks once again blooming with color as she sat beside him. “My little sister taught me how to do it a few years ago. We would sit in the fields around Highgarden and pluck wildflowers to string together. Hers were always much more polished than mine.”

Y/N leaned a little closer to see that while it might not have been perfectly braided, it was still tightly woven and the flowers were in full bloom. “I think yours is well done, Willas. Will you teach me?”

Y/N laughed as Willas dropped the haphazard crown of white blooms onto her head and it nearly fell over her eyes. “I will let you have mine,” he said, but he did tried to teach her—until Y/N’s indelicate fingers ruined her third crown and she gave up, throwing herself back into the soft grass with a laugh. She reached up for a moment and grabbed the back of Willas’ tunic, pulling him down beside her.

They spoke for a little bit, of magic, of Highgarden, of their adventures in the Bay—now affectionately and rightly dubbed Dragon’s Bay. It was easy.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Y/N hummed at the question, mulling the answers in her mind. “I have lived and crossed the Narrow Sea, the Summer Sea, too. I have tasted and tested the Jade Sea. The Shivering Sea holds no value to me and that only leaves…”

“The Sunset Sea.” Willas nodded. She might have noticed a bit of pink touch his cheeks but she did not mention it. “The Mander, the river in the Reach, rushes by Highgarden and empties into the Sunset Sea.” He cleared his throat. “I could… House Tyrell has barges which sail that route easily. I would be happy to make sure you see your wish fulfilled.”

Y/N smiled and shook her head as she turned in the grass to look at him. “You are far too kind, Lord Willas. But what of you? Where would you go?”

The pink was raging on his cheeks now. “I would wish to only be at your side.”

Y/N felt her next breath stall in her throat and she looked at him, his cheeks still filled with pink but his blue eyes were so earnest—they had always been so lovely. “I suppose I do provide a bit of adventure.”

“You provide much more than that. I promise you.”

She wanted to say something. She wanted to say that he provided so much more than anything she could have hoped for but, it seemed that fate had other plans. “Y/N!”

She sat up from the grass to see Daenerys and a still-damp Rhaenys waving her over. The ground shook as both Drogon and Vēzos landed. They made quite a pair, the black and the yellow. “What is it, my loves?”

“We are taking them up to test their wings with riders again.” It had been a new practice, apparently, for all four of them to take their dragons to flight. They were surely large enough for it now.

Daenerys quickly climbed onto Drogon’s back and Rhaenys did the same.

“Come with me,” Rhaenys said, extending a hand toward Y/N. “Fly.”

Without thought, Y/N took Rhaenys’ hand and let her pull her up onto Vēzos’ back. And then, with a rumble, they were taking to the sky, the cool air whipping over her skin as she held, probably too tightly, to the spikes along the dragon’s back. But she listened to Rhaenys laugh and saw Daenerys smile and her momentary fear vanished. They were happy.

And she was flying.

When they landed, a small group of Freedmen were waiting for them and asked for an audience with Rhaenys which she quickly agreed to, always willing to hear anything her subjects would bring to her.

“Your Grace,” one man said, a timid smile on his face. “It would be a great honor if we could rebuild the palace for you and your family. The city.”

Rhaenys shook her head as she reached out toward the man and gently took his rough hands. “Your life is your own. You do not need to rebuild the city simply because I find it lovely.”

The man ducked his head, smile growing. “We know it is not an order you would give, Your Grace. We have made a…” he frowned, searching for the word, “council, as you have in Astapor and Yunkai and Meereen. And we want to stay here, rebuild. The soil is fertile, the trade possibility is strong. We could build a home here, beautiful and strong like it once was.”

Y/N watched Rhaenys’ eyes fill with tears and she diverted her gaze, letting the young queen compose herself.

“And you truly believe that your families could be happy here? It could take years before it is fully rebuilt.”

The man nodded and looked at Rhaenys, his small smile growing. “It will be hard work, but I know it would be worth it, Your Grace. A new home for us, for your family.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she squeezed the man’s hands again. “Then it would be an honor.”

**

The Disputed Lands had been feuded over and razed and rebuilt over and over again since the Doom. Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr all laid claim to them and would war with the others over the fertile soil. But they now belonged to Rhaenys and her brothers and aunt.

Braavos and Lorath were making almost embarrassingly quick work of conquering the cities with the help of another set of sellsword companies from the north and east, and with the Dragons and their armies making war on them from the west and Y/N and Willas led a small fleet of ships outfitted with weapons salvaged from the Chroyane sailing from the South, it was finished within a few short moons.

The Sealord of Braavos met them just outside the high walls of Pentos, presenting them with the signed surrender of the magistrates and city prince—and a few extra ‘gifts.’ One was the head of Illyrio Mopatis. The next two were faces she barely recognized—and truly, she recognized their names more than their persons. Tyrion Lannister and Varys both had chains around their wrists but seemed pleased with the situation. “They say they want to swear loyalty to your dragon kings and queens.”

“Yes, well,” Y/N’s eyes dragged over the pair, distrusting. “Most do after they see dragonfire.” The fire still blazing behind the walls scented the air.

Y/N left her charges to speak politics with their ally and went to check on the dragons as they rested in the fields. The four had fought bravely, if not a little erratically. They were still getting used to battles and they were still young. They were fearsome though, and Y/N loved them as their riders did. The large creatures huffed in welcome as she neared and she patted their sides in hello.

Oberyn carefully walked toward them, knowing that the dragons recognized him but was still cautious. When they accepted his familiar scent, they either lowered their heads to rest again or nudged him once in greeting. “They are protective of you,” Oberyn said as he watched Y/N stroke at Drogon’s nose, content. “You may not be their bonded rider, but they know you just the same.”

“I think it is because their riders smell like me.”

Drogon huffed.

“He disagrees,” Oberyn said with a laugh. “They recognize you because they feel what their bonded riders feel.”

“I would not argue with a dragon,” Ellaria laughed as she joined them in the field. She reached out and stroked Rhaegal’s side. “They are calling for the Queenmaker,” she said as she watched Rhaegal’s wings stretch.

Y/N sighed. She had earned a few monikers during the conquest of western Essos. She had been called Queenmaker. The Sea Dragon. Preposterous names, truly. The four had given themselves their crowns, forged their own paths. She just made sure they had survived to this point. She did not make them. And she had no dragon of her own. But she answered to the monikers anyway. It was less of an argument. “What has happened now?”

Ellaria chuckled. “I do believe it is to settle a dispute between a few of your Corsairs.”

Y/N nodded and excused herself but was stopped when Ellaria grasped her wrist. She kissed her quickly with a smile. “Come back soon. It has been a long day.”

And Y/N quickly hurried off, a smile on her face.

**

They settled in Pentos. The throne that once belonged to the Prince of Pentos had been divided into four equal chairs, just as all the thrones of the cities they had conquered had been. The rooms were thankfully spacious and an entire room had been filled with the scrap Valyrian Steel they had taken from the ruins and mud of the Chroyane. It would provide food and protection for their new empire if spent correctly—and Willas was already making sure that food was being traded responsibly and fairly between the cities while the sellsword companies they had paid were continuing to be paid to keep their loyalty. And he was also mostly in charge of the ‘care’ of their two Westerosi guests. Tyrion and Varys had proven mostly useful with their knowledge about the political turmoil currently engulfing the Seven Kingdoms and bringing news of the “terrible” death of Tywin Lannister while also providing possible battle plans when they finally did make land for Rhaenys’ crown. But Y/N still did not like them.

But that was not her mission for the day (despite realizing how handsome Willas looked while poring over the parchment detailing food storage and trade routes in his chambers with a slumbering Balerion on his lap). No. Aegon’s ten-and-six nameday was nearly upon them and Y/N had the perfect present in mind. She had given a set of Valyrian Steel-tipped arrows and a dragonbone bow to Rhaenys for her ten-and-sixth nameday, and now it was Aegon’s turn. The stupid lion head pommel was not Valyrian steel so she had no problem seeing it hacked off and reworked. The smith was quick and skilled, easily melting the gold into a puddle to be reformed. She watched him work, perching on the rickety stool in the corner and talking with him as the smoke and steam from his work clouded the forge. He was a genial man, happy to tell his story and hear hers in return. “They are blessed to have you, the little kings and queens.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “No, no. I am the blessed. They have been the lights of my life.”

“You have no children?”

Y/N nearly choked on her breath at the blunt question. “N-no. I have been… They have been my children, I suppose.”

The smith nodded at that and then continued to work in silence, attaching the new pommel to the rest of the jeweled hilt. He made it look easy and handed over the sword, now topped with a sun. It was perfect—and finished just in time.

She presented it to him at the end of his favorite meal and laughed when he tried to hug her, still holding the blade out in front of him.

“Let me see it!” Oberyn said with a laugh and Aegon happily handed it over to his uncle who inspected it with a practiced eye. Y/N did not expect the laughter that bubbled out of Oberyn’s throat but it made her smile either way. “Did this have a lion’s head, little shark?”

Y/N nodded.

Oberyn handed the blade back over to Aegon with a flourish. “You are holding the Valyrian steel sword that House Lannister once wielded. I find it…poetic that you will now call it your own.”

“But it needs a name!” Jon said. “All good swords need a name.”

Aegon held the sword up as Rhaenys and Daenerys cheered alongside their family. “It shall be called Sunshard.”

Perhaps she could convince him to change it later or Jon would come up with a better name for the Valyrian Steel axe she had stowed away for his next nameday or the dagger she would give to Daenerys for hers. But for now, she let Aegon swing the sword around like he was a little boy in the training grounds again.

For now, they were happy.

When the celebration died down and they dispersed for the night, the taste of honeycakes and lemon still on their tongues, Y/N found herself surprised to find Daenerys and Rhaenys waiting for her in the small solar connected to her chambers.

“This is a surprise, my loves. How may I help you?”

Rhaenys reached out her hands for Y/N to take and squeezed them both three times with a smile as she pulled her down on the cushioned bench between them. “Today was a joyous day. One finally filled without war or training or bloodshed.”

“We have all fought hard for it,” Daenerys murmured.

“You were a child yourself when you took us with you to Essos. Where had your childhood gone? The court at the Red Keep. Running and hiding with three babes who were not yours through a foreign land.”

“I made that choice. And I would make it again-”

“I am asking you to make the choice to be happy. To let yourself have an adventure without worrying over us.”

“I will always worry over you.”

“Just as we worry over you. You have been our guiding hand, our fiercest protector and staunchest supporter. Our most loyal older sibling. You have loved us. We love you. And we want you to be happy.”

Y/N turned to Daenerys as if that would provide some sort of answer. “Are you asking me to leave your side?”

“Never!” Both Rhaenys and Daenerys shouted.

“We will never send you away. But, we want you to know that if you are called to someone’s side, we want you to be happy.”

“What has brought this on? Have I said something?” The words caught in her throat but Rhaenys simply squeezed her hands again. One two three.

“No. But we have realized that you have set aside everything for us. And we simply want you to be happy.”

They each leaned forward and kissed her on the cheeks. The three spoke for a little longer, calming Y/N’s strange fear of being sent away, before they excused themselves with matching yawns. But Y/N could not sleep. Not with that strange revelation singing in her ears.

She pulled on her dressing gown and padded down to the gardens of the palace. She could hear the sea and it was a small comfort. But she turned at the familiar tap of a cane against stone and smiled as Willas settled beside her.

“You could not sleep either?”

He shook his head, curls sliding against his ears. “I suppose I am now accustomed to a little more excitement during the day to tire me out.”

Y/N chuckled and angled her head up to look at the glittering stars. “But it was a good day. I can sleep late tomorrow.”

The pair was quiet for a moment, the comfortable silence between them only broken by the inconsistent chittering of a bird or the sea crashing against the city walls.

“When this is over, will you rest?”

Y/N frowned at the question and turned to look at him. “Rest?”

“When the little hatchlings are settled in their kingdoms and safe. Where will you be?”

“I…” She tried to find the words she needed but she did not know the answer.

Willas reached out and gently grasped her hand. “You deserve rest too, my lady.” He looked at her, blue eyes shining and a familiar pink tint to his cheeks.

The quiet moment was cut short by a violent scream—one Y/N knew too well. She leapt to her feet and dashed back into the palace. Y/N pushed through the hall and burst into Rhaenys’ room to see her shivering on her bed. “Oh, my sunshine.”

Rhaenys reached out for her and Y/N instantly wrapped her arms around her as they sunk into the plush featherbed. “They have come again,” she whispered. “The cold. The ice. The terrible dead men. They are haunting me again.” Rhaenys reached up and played with the sun pendant. And then she was a little girl again and Y/N was reading her a story about talking turtles to help her sleep. “We have to go back to Westeros,” Rhaenys said, voice soft but steady. “They are coming.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Your reblogs, likes, and comments mean the world to me!

(and another banner by the lovely @thesadvampire​) 

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @pettyprocrastination @evyiione @elinedjarin @xsadderdazeforeverx @revolution-starter

[shozaii]

So I have a request for the main three + Kiri of you still accepting requests. So how about s/o is on her period and she wasn't prepared and bleed a lot and the boys have get her pads after they got over the shock of so much blood in the bed and just cuddle with her cause she feels horrible because of the cramps and stuff, if you want uwu cause my period always kills me huhhh also ur writing is so good im in love, keep it up love 🥰🙌🏾💕

(a/n):hello! i’m very sorry this took very long to complete as i wasn’t feeling well argh!! thank you so much for your kind words hdgh i might cry :’((, anyway, enjoy!

requests are still open!!

^^^^

what would they do when their s/o has their period?

warnings: none! except for blood

‘‘‘‘

midoriya

izuku is the person who notes everything down. he had a personal journal for you, and a part of it was about the situations he might need to face and solve during your period

so you two were on the bed, really, really tired after a long day of training. 

he noticed earlier that you were stressing out even more than usual.

perhaps....maybe not, he thought.

you felt light-headed, so you told him that you needed a drink. he let you go from the cuddled position that you were in.

and only then was he shook

blood! 

“um, y-y/n? don’t freak out, okay?”

“what’s wrong?”

he pointed to your blood on his sheets, and your shorts.

cue yourself freaking out so bad

he freaks out too, but he retains himself. he needs to stay strong for you.

“i...i stained your sheets a-and i don’t kn-know what to d-do! i’m sorry, izuku! i just-,”

“no, no, no! wait, calm down. this is nothing, okay? i can help you. we’ll clean you up first. i’ll head over to your room and grab your stuff.”

he rushes to your room as promised, and just shoved everything into his backpack (he got to know from you that pads should be hidden)

he waits for you outside the bathroom, checking in every 5 minutes.

minutes later and you came out refreshed, but another problem was already there, once you entered his room.

your cramps

he’d be so sad. why should his s/o go through this?

he grabbed his stained sheets and tossed them aside; replacing them with new ones. proceeds to soak the old ones. insists on washing your clothes as well, even though you said no 8377291 times

a gentleman

all that mattered was you and you only

he laid you down, placing your hot pack he got on your stomach. also gave you painkillers (told you- he noted down everything you needed)

once you were slowly getting comfortable, he decided to join you.

“i’m sorry izuku, i wish i knew when it was coming and it’s just unpredictable sometimes. i’ll wash your sheets for you.”

“y/n, what are you talking about? you don’t have to worry about the sheets. i can handle them myself. right now, let’s just focus on making you feel better.”

you fall asleep in his arms. which, you will admit, is the best thing ever.

bakugou

boom boom boi? now i’d like to think that he’s really, really soft when the two of you are alone. doesn’t rage, doesn’t go off. soft bakubabe. imagine the patience he would have to just handling you during your period T_T

you were in his room, on his couch.you laid on his lap, something he didn’t mind at all. he was checking his phone.

it was a long day. you felt more exhausted than usual.

“where do you keep your chips? i’m starving,” you stood up, stretching. your back hurt.

he looks away from his phone.

silence.

“’suki?”

“babe, you’re bleeding.”

“what...?” you said no more, eyes widening at the sight of his cushion stained with your blood.

“oh. my. god.”

you just stood there, tearing up. “i- god i wish i knew! i’ll go wash this up real quick. why am i like this?! i’m sorry, katsuki-,”

“oi, what about you? you’re not leaving like this. this is normal, right?”

you sniffled, nodding.

“okay. deep breaths. let’s get you cleaned up.”

“where a-are you going?”

“your room.”

he takes your bag, placing in your items. doesn’t forget the pads, of course!

once, he noticed you taking painkillers. he found those too, they should be useful. 

only then did he realize how unpredictable those periods are.

when he came back, he checked on you. 

“you doing all right in there, y/n?”

“yeah.” 

he hands you the essentials you needed, waiting patiently.he then grabs the cushion and your stained clothing, reminding himself to clean them up well. 

he was never going to allow you to clean them up.

knocking the door to make sure you didn’t faint. because the next thing that came were the cramps.

oh boy, he was right. you were in pain. he gives you the painkiller, and settled you in. he lays next to you, using a little bit of his quirk on your stomach, since it’s warm.

“feeling better now?” he asked, his other palm on your cheek.

“i’m sorry, katsuki.”

“stop that. it’s what you go through monthly and there’s no blocking it. i’ve never said this before, but you’re really strong.”

“so you finally admit it.”

“haha, yeah. only for now.”

a literal angel. i wouldn’t see him angry for that whatsoever.

todoroki

third gentleman of the day!

you two were in his room. it was the weekend tomorrow, so you two loved hanging out with each other till late night. sometimes in your room, sometimes in his. so you guessed it - this week was in his.

your stomach had this weird feeling already.

“are you okay? you look pale,” shoto asked, placing a hand on your back. 

“yeah, maybe i need a glass of water,” you said, getting up from his bed.

“okay-,” 

he was so confused when he saw blood on his sheets. 

and it was from where you were resting.

he was right. your shorts were stained.

“y/n, love. i think i may know why you don’t feel so good.”

you turned to him.

“OH NO”

you looked at your shorts, your face flushing with the darkest shade of red. right here? now? really? in your boyfriend’s sheets?

“i’m so sorry, sho! argh, what have i done? i understand if you’re mad but please, let me clean them up for you!”

“what? no, i’m not mad. i have to admit, i am really inexperienced with this, but that’s not going to stop me.”

“are you s-sure?”

“i am. now tell me, how can i help you?”

you still had a heavy heart, but you knew he wasn’t about to budge. with enough information, he set off to your room. drawer after drawer, he finally found pads. new clothes. a fresh towel. some essentials.

you also told him about painkillers, but he had those in case if anybody needed it. looks like his s/o did.

he also made sure to soak the stained clothing and sheets. he may have hid them from you,,,he knows you well.

when you came out, you were already groaning in pain. watching you like that only made his heart sink.

dude, he would’ve cried.

with newly replaced sheets, and a painkiller taken, he carried you bridal style and snuggled in with you. like katsuki, he could use his left hand to warm up your lil belly <3

“do you need anything else, love?”

“sho, how can i ever thank you...? you’ve done more than enough.”

“really?” he smiled. “well, i’m glad. get some rest. you’ll be better soon.”

literally crying in the club look how soft

bonus! kirishima

ksks these boys give me the feels

he starts to notice you complaining about how you felt uncomfortable. being the manly man that he is, he wants to help

you were walking around, trying to forget the pain

but that was after you were sitting on his bed, talking to him.

“what did you have for dinner? the same as us, right?”

“yeah! it doesn’t hurt. it’s just this lingering feeling that it’s about to come soon.”

sounds familiar, he thought.

he was thinking real hard, noticing the red dye on his bed.

wait. red dye? but he hasn’t dyed his hair for a while!

oh.

“babe, turn around for me.”

“what’s wrong, eiji?”

you did, only to receive a shocked expression on his face.

“y/n! is it that time of the month for you?”

“huh?”

you freaked out, seconds after realization. saw the bed, freaked out again. “i forgot! i forgot, but how?! eiji, i didn’t mean it! now your bed is stained, it looks so bad! okay, so give me those sheets, i’ll have them cleaned up for you. say no more.”

“y/n! i know you didn’t. let’s not panic, okay? i’m gonna go to your room, grab your stuff, and get back here. meanwhile, i’ll need you to clean yourself up. i can’t send you back like this. that ain’t manly of me.”

“eiji, but-,”

“no, babe. i’m here for you. let’s do this. together.”

as told, he went to your room. while you were in his, cleaning up after yourself, keeping your tears from flowing

he came back very soon than expected. patience was his key!

makes sure you did not get the chance to take any of the stained clothing.

“okay, here’s your hot pack! and take these. i found your emergency pills in the jar.”

“eiji,” you said.

“yeah? what’s up?”

“i wanna cuddle.”

“anything for you, my love!”

you two fall asleep after the pain went down. cuties

you’ll never feel down with him around.

(a/n): fun fact! my cramps get the best of me, too. god, how i wish i could cuddle with someone. :( ehem, anyway! i tried my best! i apologize for any typing errors :/

[thistle-and-thorn]

fic writer asks

This got sooo excessively long but thank you @woodswit for the tag!

name: thistleandthorn (there’s a rogue FFN account out there where I wrote in the Before Times)

fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV) and Queen’s Thief

twoshot?: No, I haven’t. I mean never say never, but I like the structure of odd numbers better.

most popular multi-chapter: the lady is risen by faaarrrr

actual worst part of writing: writing. I write to edit. (I don’t proofread though because I proofread so much for work and my eyes get tired, man.) also, the fifteen minutes after you post.

how do you choose your titles: i put so much thought into my titles/chapter titles T_T…and they always end up being Johnny Flynn lyrics so I give uppp

do you outline: I’m still so new to fic writing that I feel like I’m still figuring out the best process. Weirdly I think I kind of nailed it with my first fic where I had the most emotional and climactic (😉) written first and then I basically layered in everything later. I’m trying to find my way back now with all my sixteen million WIPs. I have promised myself I won’t start posting until I’m happy with those essential scenes so I’m not caught trying to pants again. It means more of a space between fics but probably a much happier writing process.

ideas you probably won’t get around to but wouldn’t it be nice: so. many. For GoT stuff: More parts to the ice maiden series that won’t happen probably. Then: A Las Vegas wedding AU sequel to ‘follow me’ like that was genuinely Not a Good Idea; an election AU—Daenerys was running for office and Tyrion was a speech writer, idk, it wasn’t very good either but a lot of which is being used for my current dark academia AU; some guy recently asked me to write a Jon Snow harem fic—which, I don’t know, doesn’t seem very on-brand for me— but I now want to know if I could write a classy harem fic; the whole original idea behind from eden which has totally changed now; a priest/nun AU also a genuinely Not Good Idea (I rewatched The Borgias and like Tywin as Rodrigo was deeply appealing but I don’t knowww…there was fucking in a garden, it was A Lot.)

For Queen’s Thief, a classic in that fandom is writing a Wedding Night fic and I have a specific way that I want to do mine that is all non-linear and stuff. And also, a short fic about Eugenides and Irene LITERALLY moving into Eddis’ library like they threaten to do at one point—crack treated super, super seriously. I want to re-read the books before I attempt though.

callouts @ me: I am literally a one-trick pony so: Sanrion having romantic sex and promptly breaking up/separating immediately—and I mean, within seconds— afterward (…it’s in every. story., I’m now realizing.); self-projection; quirks like: “Alright” and “looking” and “s/he finds that”; Excessive and Unnecessary Use of (Parentheses); unhealthy dynamics brushed right under this here rug; Sansa being a disaster bi; Sansa being messy af in her personal life; fairytale/biblical references; sad smut; “Good girl”—I just—;Tyrion is always described as starving; insomnia without consequences—did I miss anything?

best writing traits: this is not for me to decide but what I enjoy about writing is the kind of “collaging” with the parentheses—that is using the parentheses as this kind of running commentary or parallel narrative with the chapter. It’s so satisfying when it works. I think it’s probably annoying to read but they’re fun to write.

spicy tangential opinion: that one time I thought I wrote fluff and one of the comments asked me if everyone was going to die and the sweet daisy-turned-human that is attonitos_gloria said that this was “the saddest ship on earth”—you know what? That WAS fluff.

Oooh, ooh tagging (without pressure): @foxyhunter99 and @staarliings and @charmtion

[reservethesun]

Hello, can you do #31 (I’m never going to leave you, I promise.) for BeamFourth? I miss them a lot! Thank you!!

Ahh yes. I miss them too. T_T They’re lovely. That’s a great prompt for them, too. Thank you for the prompt!! (Prompt list).

#31. “I’m never going to leave you. I promise” Pairing: ForthBeam Word Count: 902 Note: I see this taking place in my crossover universe (found here), but it can easily be read as a standalone as well.

"Are you serious?" Beam asked with a short, incredulous laugh. He looked at Forth as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Things had been difficult between them for a while, since Beam's placement outside of the city. They barely talked, even on the phone since reception out where Beam was placed was spotty at best. When Beam was home, it was only for a few hours at a time and usually for him to sleep before returning to the hospital. But Beam hadn't really realized just how much all of it had been weighing on Forth. He had thought things were fine, that they were fine. At least up until a moment before when they'd been arguing and Forth had suddenly said something about Beam just going and staying with his new friends and his new life with those he'd met during his placement. 

"It would be better wouldn't it? Your life is there and mine is here. It jus- This isn't working," Forth said as he ran his fingers through his hair several times. "You're never home and when you are we're sleeping or fighting." Forth just wasn't sure anymore where he fit in Beam's life and he was trying to be okay with that. He didn't want to feel bitterness about it all, to ruin the good things they did have with his upset at the way that everything had turned out. "So, maybe this is for the best, and if later we get a chance to try again then great. But you've got this whole new life away from here and you should live it instead of… this."

He gestured vaguely to the apartment around them. "No." Beam scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "No. That's not… Just no." He looked around the room for a moment, attempting to come up with the words he wanted to say. "You can't seriously be telling me after everything, after how much you worked to get me to stop stupidly running away from you that you're going to just… give up now because it's not-"

"It's not anything, Beam. This… isn't a relationship. This is me being here and you running yourself ragged trying to go back and forth when you should just… stay there. You've got over a year left of your placement. You shouldn't keep doing this."

Beam shook his head and sighed as he ran his hand over his face several times. "No. Okay, no. I don't… That's not what I want. I didn't choose this placement."

"I know that. I know. But that doesn't ch-"

"And you're being dumb on purpose if you think I ever want to spend time with anyone I've met there over you. You're annoying and frustrating and can be incredibly selfish at times-"

"Tell me what you really think." Forth rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"But you're also one of the best people I've ever known. You care about your friends to the point of getting yourself hurt to protect them. And you've always put me first even if I haven't necessarily deserved it."

"Beam-"

"No. Would you just let me-?" He broke off with a heavy sigh through his nose. "I know this is hard, probably more for you than me but it's not… It's not easy for me, either. But this… us? I didn't start this relationship so that you could run away like this. I have… no intentions of this ending. You chose me and now you're stuck with me, damn it."

"Don't be stupid. We ca-"

"I'm not breaking up with you. I'm not leaving you," Beam interrupted instead of letting Forth finish whatever it was he was going to say. Forth let out a soft laugh of disbelief as he looked at Beam. He had seen the look of resolution on his face many times throughout their relationship, but never directed at him in such a way. "If things aren't working then we'll figure out together how to fix it. But this? You trying to…? No. Not happening. You can't just leave me."

Forth sighed and reached up to rub the back of his neck. He felt incredibly drained and like he didn't know where to stand or what to do. Nothing felt settled or fixed but he guessed it would have to be a work in progress. Things had gotten so tense and strained, it wasn't likely to be an instant fix to being okay again. But, he didn't really want things to end in the first place. So he found that he really couldn't argue with Beam even if he wasn't entirely sure it was the best idea. "Okay, okay. You're right. I'm never going to leave you." Beam looked hesitant, none of the fight leaving his stance just yet. Forth knew that he was just being cautious, anticipating Forth attempting to pull the rug out from under him once again. "I promise."

It was just words, but it held with it something heavy enough that it seemed to cause that hesitation to fade from Beam immediately. He sighed and nodded his head. He paused just for a second before he reached out and grabbed Forth's arm. He pulled Forth in close enough that he could wrap both arms around him in a tight hug that he didn't intend to release Forth from for a while.

[sapphiretsuki]

Road Trip Gone Right? <M>

Keeping my promise to myself here and writing. I am a heathen and start with a goal of like 1.5k max, but somehow I end at 4k. I’ll keep trying. T_T Also, in line with my self challenge I am again writing for a fandom outside my comfort zone. Loosely edited because its 1am and I’m tired :]  @channiesmixtape​ Thank you again for your undying support, ilysm <3

Pairing: Felix x Y/N

Warnings: Uhhhhh, smut, oral, voice kink if you squint, nothing major really. Condoms. (safe sex is good sex too)

cr. to google for the lovely pic 

It was the dreaded season of traveling and for whatever reason your school had decided that they weren't going to allow anyone to stay on campus over break. It was your tradition to bask in the quiet whilst all the other students went home and to friends and on trips, but not this year apparently.  As if the universe were conspiring against you, your mother had also decided this was going to be the year that all the family, including by extension your best friends family, were all going to gather and celebrate the new year. Whatever. Why people wanted to celebrate that time was passing as it always did was beyond you, but that's how you found yourself in the front seat of your longtime friends car. Felix seemed just as dejected as you about the long drive and the mandatory mingling that was going to occur.

You and Felix had been quite the pair for as long as you could remember. You were about 7 when you met and you had saved him from some punk on the playground who thought being a little shithead was the way to be impressive. You kicked the little fucker in the shin and before you could follow through with a punch he was frantically scooting to run away. When you turned to check on what you thought was an adorable little girl you were met with a starry eyed Felix and he'd been your sidekick from that moment on. As fate would have it, he ended up being your next door neighbor.  Gazing at his profile now while he was driving it struck you that at some point he'd grown to be quite masculine and incredibly striking. He always had been beautiful to you, but these days there was something more and you just couldn't put your finger on what it was.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you reached out to turn on the radio. Maybe music would help whatever this feeling was. It was probably just anxiety over the long drive and the anticipation of being subjected to people you didn't get along with very well. You were unique and not quite the cookie cutter image of perfection that the rest of your cousins were and they never wasted an opportunity to let you know. As if sensing your thoughts, Felix's deep voice broke through the thoughts again, "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked. "Huh? Oh. It's nothing really. Just thinking about the cousins and wondering what brand of hell they'll try to subject me to. I haven't seen them since I started college you know."

His laughter rang out through the car and made you feel a bit better. "I'm sure that no matter what they try, you're still far smarter than them and a hell of a lot stronger too. Try not to worry Cheeks." At the mention of your special nickname you couldn't help but smile. A bit precocious growing up, and definitely the most vocal of the children, you'd earned the title of cheeky which had in turn affectionately turned into the nickname Cheeks. As much as you were dreading this visit, it made you feel infinitely better that Felix was going too. Not that he had any choice either. Just as you had become fast friends at a young age, your families had become some sort of hybrid family through strong friendship.

You must have finally relaxed enough to fall asleep at some point because you awoke with a bolt. There was a loud bang and Felix slammed on the breaks. "Shit, what the hell was that?" He put the car in park and turned the hazards on before turning to you and telling you to stay put. He pulled out his cellphone and turned on the flashlight before stepping out of the car. You anxiously watched him walk around the car and disappear as he squatted down. You were praying he hadn't hit some woodland creature because from the looks of it you were in the middle of nowhere and that was a very real possibility. You jumped as he tapped on your window. "Can you pop the trunk for me? We appear to have a flat." You nodded and unbuckled your belt and climbed over to the drivers side to hit the latch for the trunk. As you sunk back into your seat you could hear him digging around in the trunk. A flat wasn't so bad. Sure it wasn't ideal, but at least there would be no dead animals or screwed up undercarriages right?

Just as you were coming to terms with a small hiccup in the journey you heard another bang followed by a few expletives that made you quirk an eyebrow. That was unlike Felix. You were the one with the foul language problem. If he was cursing something must be terribly wrong. Curiosity getting the better of you, you snatched the keys out of the ignition and stepped out from the vehicle. "Whats going on short stack?" you called out as you approached the visibly frustrated man. "The spare has a crack in it. My roadside assistance doesn't have anyone that can help. They'll reimburse me, but we're going to have to call a tow and probably find somewhere to spend the night since I'm sure there isn't a garage open at this hour." Well shit. This was going to be a pain in the ass. "Okay, which part do you want me to start looking up? How about you figure out the tow situation and I'll see if theres a motel or something. Where are we even anyway?" you asked trying to laugh at the circumstance you found yourself in.

Two hours  and a ride on the struggle bus with cellular service later you found yourselves in the lobby of a motel that made you feel like the star of a horror film. You were in some backwood town with a population of almost no one and there were nothing but trees for days. The receptionist or owner or whoever she was seemed friendly enough, but she also reminded you of a walking corpse. Her bony hand deposited a key into your palm and with a toothless grin she rasped out your room number. You thanked her and went to collect Felix and your bags and hightail it to somewhere with a lock on the door. This whole evening had made you feel uncomfortable and all you wanted was to sleep so morning could come and you could be back on your way. Funny that there was something that made you feel worse than spending time at home, but here you were.

Juggling your bag and the room key you were having trouble making the key go into the lock. A warm hand stopped yours from shaking and suddenly closer than you remembered him being, Felix silently took the key from you and ran his fingers over the back of your hand before inserting the key into the lock and opening the door. He gestured for you to go in first and continued to hold the door open as you pulled yourself together and stepped into the room. Feeling around on the wall you found the switch and flipped it. As the light flickered on, yes flickered, because your life obviously needed to resemble a horror movie down to the last detail you let out a groan as you looked around. There was only one bed. It was rather small also. You weren't sure it even qualified to be called a full. There was absolutely no way that you were going to have either one of you taking the floor though. You'd definitely indicated two beds at the desk, but something told you this wasn't a problem with a solution. The place was so ancient they still used key locks, and the lady downstairs looked like she came from 1900 directly. You turned to Felix as he was dragging your suitcases in to break the news to him.

"Looks like we're going to be revisiting our childhood tonight shorty. Theres only one bed and like hell either one of us is sleeping on the floor." His head snapped up from what he was doing to shoot you an incredulous look. "Y/n, I'm far from short anymore compared to you and that," he says pointing in the direction of the bed, "is not a bed. That's fit for a large child at best." You wondered what had him so obviously upset, but you chalked it up to the frustration of the situations that seemed to keep arising. "Felix, believe me, I realize this is less than ideal, but it's what we've got. We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, you especially, so we're just gonna have to suck it up and do what we gotta." You said placing a hand on your hip and turning your other palm up towards the ceiling in a gesture of both sass and nonchalance. "I'll see if theres a pizza joint or something in this town, why don't you go take a shower first? It'll help take some of the tension off." He nodded and went towards the bathroom while you dove into trying to get a signal to see if you could figure out food.

Miraculously after the fight of the century with your service you were able to locate pizza. Even better was that they delivered. Downside of the size of the town you were in was that the person on the other end of the phone knew exactly who you were, and described you as 'that poor stranded couple'. Well whatever, food was becoming more necessary by the minute since you'd relaxed a marginal amount and your stomach felt like it would eat itself. You were giddy with excitement and digging through your purse for some cash when Felix reappeared. You didn't notice him at first but when you looked up and there he was in nothing but a pair of low slung sweats with a towel hanging around his neck you let out an audible gulp. He quirked an eyebrow at you, but before he could question what your problem was, you snatched up some clothes and stuffed some money in his hand. "I'm amazing and pizza should be here any minute. I'm gonna go shower now. You don't have to wait for me to eat." You said to him as you brushed past and quickly made your way into the safety of the bathroom.

Once you shut the door, you placed a hand on your chest to calm the beating of your heart. What was wrong with you today? Sure it had been a while since you'd seen Felix shirtless. And wet. But it had never affected you like this before ever. It was like you were discovering that he wasn't the person you'd known most of your life. Just when had he gotten so toned? His lithe body was beautiful and always had been, but when had it also been appropriate to describe him as manly? Stepping into the scalding spray of the shower you prayed that you were just hungry and tired and it was making you crazy. Washing with a speed you normally reserved for things you disliked, you scrubbed away the filth of the day. Wrapping a towel around yourself you rubbed some of the fog off the mirror and after toweling your hair out as much as you could, ran a brush through it. You rubbed your skin vigorously and put on your tank top and realized you'd forgotten your panties. Laughing at the luck you'd had today you just shook your head and pulled on your pajama pants.

When you returned to the room the soft light and sounds of the TV accompanied Felix and his pizza. Belatedly you realized there wasn't likely to have been any sort of plates or anything to use and cursed yourself for not asking. Oh well, things still could have been far worse today so you were gonna stuff your face and call it a night before the bad luck that seemed to be following you around could claim any more of your energy. You plopped unceremoniously on to the bed next to Felix and snatched up a piece of pizza. As you took a bite you let out a moan at how delicious it was. "Really y/n, sometimes I think you'd be happiest with food in your hands at all times." Felix said, chest rumbling with laughter. Your face suddenly felt like it was on fire and you were oddly embarrassed even though this exact scenario had played out many times before. "I just love food and am hungry enough to eat a cow right now short stuff." You huffed out indignantly. Still slightly laughing Felix reassured you that it was fine and he was only making an observation. You felt jittery and nervous still even though you'd checked off all the things you thought were the culprits so you decided to initiate bedtime.

"I think we should get some sleep, we have a lot to do tomorrow and we still have a lot of miles to cover." Felix seemed to mull over your statement before he nodded his agreement. He began to box up the remainder of the pizza and you went to brush your teeth. Making your way back to the room you heard Felix's phone chime and picked it up from the dresser it was sitting on to hand it to him. You weren't being nosy but you saw a name that made your blood boil a little bit. It was one of your catty cousins and now you were wondering what the fuck he was doing talking to her of all people. Unable to help yourself you spat out at him, "What are you doing talking to her?" As soon as the words were out you couldn't believe yourself and your hand flew up to cover your mouth in embarrassment. "You know what, I'm tired, never mind,  disregard my craziness, I'm just gonna lay down. "As he stared at you with wide eyes, he responded anyway. "They occasionally text me trying to snoop I think. I just stored the name so I'd know to ignore because I made the mistake of answering a message once before." Well now you were feeling a whole lot more awkward. Deciding that there was safety in silence you simply nodded and laid down in the bed.

Getting under the covers you scooted as far to the side as you could. You weren't sure how you were going to handle being that close to Felix's shirtless body with the maelstrom going on inside your head but you were just going to have to try. Sliding under the covers and in turn being closer to you than you thought was explicitly necessary he pulled the blanket up over you both and whispered to you, "Good night Cheeks." His deep voice laced with a tired rasp sent a shiver down your spine and it hit you then like a bolt of lightning. Holy shit, you were in love with your best friend. Your best friend turned you on. Holy shit, what the fuck. Sleep was probably going to be a problem with your heart hammering away in your chest. Staying as still as you could so as to not draw attention to yourself you mentally went over all the signs trying to figure out when the hell this had happened. You thought Felix was asleep and you turned to look at him. His breathing had evened out and his plush lips were slightly parted. The moonlight coming through the window cast a soft light and made the smattering of freckles on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose look exceptionally gorgeous.

With his eyes still closed he shocked you when he began to speak. It was as if he could sense your restlessness even though you weren't moving at all. "I can feel your eyes y/n," he drawled and you went rigid. "Not to make things weird, or weirder, but I thought about you when I came last night." Now it was your turn to give the wide eyed stare. He cracked one eye and looked at you and slowly started to grin. "Y-you did?" you squeaked out. He turned to face you and it's not like you had anywhere to run, the bed was so tiny. You were close enough to feel his breath ghost over your face as he continued, "I thought I might have been imagining things but it seems you're just as affected by me Cheeks. You were calling me short stack still so I was a little unsure, but if you could have seen how hungry you looked earlier and I'm not talking about food." You should have known it was going to be a short lived secret but you were reeling that within such a short time of you realizing you had feelings and physical attraction he was calling you out on it. Felix had always known you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

What he didn't expect was that you wouldn't put up a fight about it. He was prepared to spell it out for your stubborn ass if need be, but you saved him the effort and planted your lips on his. You kissed him with all the hunger he described moments before and pulled away, chest heaving. "How long? How long have you known that we could have been doing this? How long have you been thinking about me when you cum?" You shoved him so he wasn't on his side anymore and climbed on top of him before he could do a thing about it. Looking at his face you were searching his eyes as if they held the answers. What you found instead was a look of lust so dark you couldn't do anything except seal your lips to his again. He didn't fight back and instead placed his hand on the back of your neck to turn your head slightly. He licked your bottom lip seeking entrance and you obliged. His plump lips felt so soft on yours and as his tongue swirled with yours you unintentionally found yourself grinding your hips into his as you let out a moan.

Felix also let out a groan at the friction and decided he'd had enough. He flipped you so your positions were switched and you found yourself again marveling at how manly was now how you'd describe him. Caged in between his arms he leaned down and nipped on your throat. Practically growling in your ear, his voice sent shivers down your spine. "I'll show you exactly what I was thinking about when I came if you want me to y/n." If you had been wearing underwear they would have been absolutely ruined. His voice was already one of your favorite sounds in the world, but right up in your ear making lewd suggestions had you feeling like you were coming unraveled. He placed open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat and reached to tug on your shirt. He pulled it up and helped you take it off only removing his mouth from your skin long enough to get it over your head. He continued down your chest and down to your hip where he hooked his fingers in the band of your pants. You lifted your hips so he could pull them down. "Well well, Cheeks, I never thought you'd go without panties, but that certainly makes things easier on me. He took a moment to appreciate your beauty and you found yourself feeling shy. He trailed a finger down your stomach and began to lightly tease your pussy until you were squirming with need. Just when you thought you couldn't take the teasing anymore he slid a finger into your slick folds and then into you.

"A-ah, Felix, more," you whined out. You were so turned on it was practically unbearable. He seemed pleased at your request and inserted another finger and started pumping in and out at a slow pace. He curled his fingers upward and began rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb as he picked up the pace. You began to feel the curling heat and tightening up in your stomach and knew you were going to cum. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he brushed past your sweet spot with every pump. Just when you thought you were about to completely lose it he pulled out and immediately attached his lush lips to your clit and sucked on it. Your orgasm washed over you like a waterfall and he held your stuttering hips in place as he worked you through your high. Feeling like the personification of bliss you reached down and ran your fingers through his hair. He kissed his way back up your chest and you pulled his face to yours to taste him.

"We're not done just yet, y/n. I still haven't shown you everything I was thinking about when I came." You had just barely come down from your high but you felt as if you could cum all over again at his suggestion. He reached over to the nightstand and retrieved his wallet and pulled out a condom. As he went to tear the foil you placed a hand on his wrist, "Can I?" You asked. He allowed you to take the packet from him and he pulled off his sweats. As his cock sprang free you were absolutely stunned. He was so much bigger than you thought he'd be and now you were wondering where he hid that and how it was going to fit. You grabbed at his dick and gave it a squeeze before rolling the condom down his shaft. He moved to lay you back down and lined his cock up with your entrance. He slid the head through the slippery remnants of your earlier undoing and every time he brushed your clit you twitched with need. Finally, finally he started to slide his cock into your warmth. Slowly at first, giving you plenty of time to adjust, he inched inside until he was all the way in. Buried to the hilt he stilled so you could get used to his size and then began to pump in and out of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he began to pick up the pace.

He set a brutal pace and you gasped and panted. Your erotic voice was making him impossibly more turned on. As he thrust into you your cries of pleasure spurred him on. He shifted slightly and pulled your legs up so they were over his shoulders. The change in position allowed him to go deeper and with every pump he fully dragged across your g-spot and you felt the familiar ache starting to build again. He continued to thrust and reached out to rub one of your nipples. "Ahhh y/n. You look so beautiful. Look and the way your pussy just devours my cock. This is exactly, ah, what i was thinking about while I got myself off." His voice, and the pure filth coming out of his mouth were enough to send you over the edge. Your walls clamped and spasmed around him and you came on a cry of his name. "Ah F-Felix, fuck." His rhythm became sloppy as you rode out your high and soon he was spilling his release with a loud groan.

You were both sweaty, panting messes. As he began to soften up he slipped out of you and removed the condom. Tying it off he tossed it in the direction of the garbage can before returning to you and the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you on the forehead. Before you could even get a word out his phone was chiming again. You gave him a look that said he should check it and so he grabbed it. It was your cousin again and you were struck with a brilliant idea. You knew it was probably partly them snooping like he thought, but there was also the knowledge that they were jealous of your relationship with Felix. "Lemme see your phone," you said with a smirk. He shrugged and handed it to you. You opened the camera and snapped a selfie of the two of you. Her message was some ‘what are you doing’ type thing so you sent the picture and then powered his phone off with a satisfied smile. He let out a little laugh at your antics and from your position with your head on his chest it was the best sound in the world.

Waking up much later than you intended, and certainly more sore, you reached to check the time on your phone. You were met with the family group chat notification count being astronomical, and also  a notification from your favorite cousin. It read, 'I know that was you bitch'. With a smile you turned the phone towards Felix who was wondering what besides him had you so smiley this morning. You were rewarded with his eye smile and morning voice telling you, "You're something else Cheeks, but damn I love you."