#willa just wants to be friends with everyone- and yet

[crescenthoax]

a nightmare before Christmas • pt2

🎄or an Annika, Floris, Willa and Targtowers Christmas tale🌟

Part One

Part two

Part three

Summary: Aemond, Daeron, Aegon and Helaena had different things planned for Christmas, but one same fate: their father’s old cabin.

Basically an i’m never gonna love again christmas modern AU because we need to spread some joy on these times and I wanted to write something fun. Mainly centred around Aegon x Female OC.

Part 2/3. Part 3.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

“I can't believe you convinced me to do this,” says Aegon, shaking his head. “I don't need no game nor excuse to get wasted.”

“Oh, come on. We’re all going to play,” Helaena tells him, amused. “Even Aemond.”

It translates easily to: ‘You can't be more boring than him.’

It’s not that Aemond is the boring type, in fact, he's just so reserved and responsible that he's gotten used to having fun in other ways. But everyone has seen him drink whiskey as easily as soda and smile as if he had two hooks on his face and scarlet–flushed cheeks while dancing during Annika's New Year's party on the yacht in 2019.

Everyone sits in a circle around the coffee table in the huge living room. Logan stirs some logs in the fireplace, trying to revive the flames before sitting down between Helaena and Annika on the couch. Aegon is sprawled on one of the individual and comfy, green velveteen chairs, just like Aemond on the other, and Floris sits with Willa and Daeron on the other couch.

“So, does everyone know how this works?” Annika asks, finishing pouring herself a glass of white wine. On the table, there is an exaggerated amount of drinks to choose from. “Someone says something, and if you've done it, you drink. If you haven't, you don't. It's simple.”

“Never have I ever explained a game we all know just to seem smart,” Aegon laughs. “And now you drink.”

She sighs and takes a sip of wine after flipping him off. So much for the ‘truce.’

“Logan, why don't you start? That way, we can get to know you better,” Annika insists.

He feels a bit pressured with the number of new and curious looks around him, but he seems to handle it wonderfully. “Hmm. Never have I ever... been to a party I wasn't invited to.”

“Easy!” Aegon singsongs and drinks from his beer. Daeron, Logan himself, Annika, and Helaena follow suit. Surprisingly to everyone, Floris also drinks, drawing attention. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why do you sound surprised?” She shakes her head, pretending to be offended. “Never have I ever gone skinny dipping.”

“I love the new Floris,” Aegon mocks, drinking. “Singleness agrees with you.”

Everyone drinks this time, except for Annika and Daeron, and she gets some skeptical looks. She puts her feet up on the couch to get more comfortable, her black ballet flats shining even brighter than the Christmas tree. “What? I find it unhygienic.”

“Never have I ever creeped an ex on social media,” Willa dares to say this time. Helaena and she are the only ones who don't drink, and Floris joins them while she shifts uncomfortably, seeing that Aemond does drink.

Aegon sees the opportunity to create a tense moment and seizes it. “Never have I ever lost my virginity to someone in this group.”

“Are you serious?” Helaena sighs.

“Very.”

The only ones who drink are the broken–up couple and the one that sticks together like peaches and cream. Willa takes a long gulp of her fruit cocktail, probably trying to shake off the embarrassment. She has not yet understood that no one really cares.

“Never have I ever had a crush on my siblings’s friends or on my friends's siblings,” Aemond says, accusingly looking at Aegon.

“All hail Cassandra Baratheon,” Annika murmurs before drinking. Daeron and Logan follow her, and so does Aegon, without any problem. Helaena turns her head trying to make sense of the situation, but Annika quickly adds, “Never have I ever been with someone of the same sex.”

She drinks. It doesn't surprise anyone that Aegon also drinks. It surprises everyone that Floris does.

“What!?” Helaena demands, laughing. “When!?”

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” Aemond basically answers for her. Annika chokes on the water she's drinking, and Aegon bursts into laughter when he sees the ex-couple drink, along with Logan and himself.

“Well, I don't have to know everything,” Daeron complains, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He usually is the one who always lags behind when it comes to knowledge about his brothers's lives, and to be honest, sometimes he feels it's better that way.

“Never have I ever broken the law,” Willa says. It's not surprising that everyone drinks this time, except her and Logan. Rich people thing, apparently.

“Never have I ever gotten a piercing,” Logan offers.

Helaena is the only one who drinks, her navel and ears heavily jewelled. And then, Aegon looks at Annika and shakes his head.

“I can't believe it. After all this time, and you still are a fucking cheater,” he addresses her.

“Excuse me?” She chuckles, feigning ignorance.

“You just lied.”

“But she has no piercings,” Floris defends her. Annika tightens the glass in her right hand and shifts uncomfortably on the couch.

“She has her right nipple pierced!” Aegon growls.

“Aegon!” Annika shouts, annoyed. “That's not something yours to share.”

“God, you always do the same thing and cheat on this stupid game. Why did you want to play if you're not going to expose yourself?”

“I don’t need them to know what I have pierced and what I don't. It's not about that,” she grumbles, crossing her arms.

Daeron furrows his brow. “How do you know she has a nipple piercing?”

“And when did you pierce your nipple?” Helaena asks, confused.

Annika bites her lip for a moment, suddenly too aware of the piercing that now seems to be warming up, the sensitive, raw skin against her bra. She was supposed to get both nipples pierced, but she couldn't bear the pain, at least not sober. She would come back someday for the next one, of course.

Aegon had taken her to get it done when she visited him in San Francisco last spring. The last time they saw each other. He promised her it would feel good afterwards. It's not something she has experienced yet.

He notices what the memory does to her. Annika moves again, too uncomfortable under his accusing gaze.

“I saw her naked this afternoon. I found her in the shower when we arrived. It was accidental,” Aegon explains casually. Annika's cheeks flush, yet she's grateful that Aegon thought so quickly to cover his tracks.

Now, that’s kind of a lie.

He had seen her naked since Annika's 20th birthday. She spent some time at the Targaryens’s house in London during lockdown, and there came a moment when they were so bored that one night, after swimming and drinking by the indoor pool, she came out dripping from a dive and went into the changing rooms to dry off. He followed her and didn't say anything; he was so bored that he held her against the wall and ate her out until she cried. He always had a thing for her and knew she was as bored and lonely. That night, she sneaked into his room, and he fucked her until she begged him to stop. Earlier, she had told him not to stop when she asked, so they fucked until he passed, and she had trouble walking the next day.

She had never felt such connection with someone before. They got along so well inside the bedroom that it was almost addictive. When they were alone, they got along even better than they did when they were with the others. And it made sense. It made all the sense in the world for them, but not necessarily for the world.

So when they wanted to have fun, without explanations, they flew to see each other. Or they met in places where they couldn't be found, like the time he fingered her at the Eiffel Tower on a random Thursday night in March.

And no one ever suspected. Until...

“I can't believe you said that,” Annika clicks her tongue. “Okay, if that's how you want to play. Never have I ever used Aemond's toothbrush.”

“You did what?” Aemond grumbles, turning to his brother with unease. “Dude. What the actual fuck?”

“Well, thank you very much, you witch,” Aegon rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his beer. Then he smiles at the blonde sitting across from him and extends his can to her. “Never have I ever used Annika's toothbrush," he says, finishing the can with pride.

“God, you're such a pig!”

“Now I understand why Aegon's room is always a suite,” Daeron mocks, putting an arm around Willa's shoulders and leaning back on the sofa, pulling his girlfriend towards him. “You never used my toothbrush, right?”

“I once used dad's toothbrush to brush Sunfyre's teeth,” Helaena adds, tipsy as she could be. Everyone looks at her strangely, and they burst into laughter instantly. “I was really mad at him.”

“Why?” Willa laughs.

“I really don't remember. It must have been important for me to decide to brush Aegon's dog's teeth with his toothbrush,” she shrugs. Logan looks at her amused and shakes his head.

“It's such a Helaena thing to do,” Floris adds. “Remember the time Annika released Helaena’s spiders in the classroom and told Cressida they were poisonous?”

“Why would you do that?” Willa asks.

“Because I hated that bitch,” she replies simply. “She was sort of like my nemesis. She hated me too.”

“I fucked with her,” Aegon adds, “in her cabin when we went to that horrible camp with our school, during lunchtime.”

Floris grimaces in disgust. “But she was in our cabin.”

“I know. She insisted on doing it on Annika's bed,” he laughs, and her jaw drops. “She got back at you; you have to give her that.”

“And you participated in that?!” She screams. “Aegon, I can't believe you!”

“Oh, don't be so pristine. It was over the sheets. And hey, we could have put your toothbrush in the toilet of public bathrooms, but we didn't,” he replies.

“Okay. Never have I ever done it in someone else's bed,” Logan intervenes, somewhat familiar with the dynamics of distracting Annika and Aegon from tearing each other apart like wild dogs.

Everyone drinks, except Annika. “As I said, it's unhygienic.”

“What do you not find unhygienic?” Daeron teases her. “Okay, I want to know this, and I think it's the moment. Never have I ever been with a teacher.”

“You're still on that? I already told you I didn’t!” Aegon leans in to push his younger brother's arm playfully.

“You were sober when I asked you! I thought you were lying for my sake,” Daeron defends himself, laughter vibrating through the walls. “I had heard the rumours.”

And everyone's laughter accompanies his, except Aemond and Floris, who remain in a creeping silence, looking at each other.

“I mean, it's something he would do,” Helaena shrugs.

“No, I had heard that...-“ He stops speaking, the smile on his face turning from confusion to more confusion than grace when he looks at Aemond in deafening silence, just like Floris by his side. When everyone notices it, the atmosphere seems to dissipate. “I had heard that... Hum, one of my brothers... That...”

Helaena and Annika look at each other. Then Annika looks at Aegon, who keeps his mouth in an ‘O’ shape and remains motionless, trying not to add more fuel to the fire.

“C’mon,” Floris speaks for the first time. She and Aemond exchange glances, and the coffee table is not the only thing separating them because it feels like there are miles between them. Floris's voice is cold, just like her eyes. Annika knows her well enough to know that she's drunk. “Rules are rules. If you've done it, you drink.”

“I don't understand,” Logan murmurs, a bit lost.

“No? Well, let me try again. Never have I ever found my boyfriend fucking one of our high school teachers in my own bed, only to find out they had been screwing behind my back since we were in high school.”

Floris finishes her glass of red wine in three long gulps. Helaena stays silent, her hand resting on her mouth to hide the surprise. Logan and Willa shrink in their places, while Daeron scratches his head uncomfortably, and Annika bites her inside cheek.

Aegon takes a small sip of his drink with a loud noise. “Aemond… This is fucked up. Really, really bad. The kind of thing I would do.”

Floris leaves the empty glass on the table with so much accidental force that it breaks. Helaena startles, and Floris stands up, swaying. “This has been fun. Have a good time.”

She walks away without even looking back at Aemond, leaving everyone too bewildered to react quickly. He sighs, leaves his drink on the table, and tries to stand up.

“Floris, wait...”

“Haven't you done enough?” Annika spits venom, getting up and pushing him back into his seat. No one understands if Aemond doesn't resist her push or if she really used brute strength. Through gritted teeth, she points at him with her index finger. “No. Don’t you even dare.”

It's she who takes light steps and disappears upstairs, following Floris. Aemond shifts uncomfortably.

“I wouldn't do it if I were you,” Aegon warns.

“Man. What the hell?” Daeron sighs, running his hands over his face. “How long has this been going on?”

"I don't know. It happened a couple of times in our graduation year, and then we met each other last year, and... I don't know. It's been...”

“Aemond, right now, no one has a worse opinion of you than I do,” Helaena tells him, placing a hand over her heart. “Who did you screw?”

He puts his hand on the bridge of his nose. “Mrs. Rivers.”

“The health teacher? Seriously?” Aegon jokes.

“And you didn't think, I don't know, to break up with your long term girlfriend before doing it? Or after?” Logan intervenes. Aemond looks at him seriously.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Hey,” Helaena tells him. “He's a friend.”

“He's not my friend,” Aemond hisses. “He's just a stranger who came to our door like a lost puppy.”

Aemond stands up and disappears, not up the stairs but towards the dining room, and Aegon is almost sure he hears him heading to the yard. Surely to smoke a cigarette secretly from all of them because God forbid he lets his friends and family know that he also feels and makes mistakes and drinks and smokes and is not the perfect child everyone thinks.

“Hm, Willa, do you want to eat something? Would you help me clean this up?” Helaena offers to the girl who looks terribly uncomfortable. At the same time, she signals Aegon to check on Aemond.

Aegon shakes his head, and Helaena stiffens her face. She has a look that's too demanding sometimes that reminds him of his mother's, and it gives him chills. It makes him get up from the couch and hit Daeron's shoulder to follow him to the yard.

He obeys, a bit confused. “Where are we going?”

“To see if Aemond is okay.”

“Of course he's okay. He's Aemond. And if we had to be checking if someone is okay, it should be Floris,” he says.

Aegon stops him in his tracks and grabs his shoulders. He looks at his brother, although he's taller than him, he still needs to learn a thing or two. He understands that the age difference between them is enough, but he also understands that Daeron is no longer a child.

“You're a man now, and that means you must learn something about this family. It's a twisted family of fucked–ups, and we screw up every day. I've messed up. Helaena has messed up. Mom and Dad specially, blah, blah. It happens, it's like it's encoded in our DNA. Aemond screws up too, and I'm sure you'll do it someday too. Not necessarily with Willa, it just will happen. And no one understands the feeling better than us,” Aegon explains. “This is what being part of this family is about. And we have an unspoken agreement; no matter what it is, we get through it. We don’t judge. Aemond is our brother, so we are not gonna judge him even though he deserves it.”

“Alright. I understand,” Daeron says and follows his older brother. As they suspected, Aemond is smoking, to the youngest’s impression. “I feel like I don't know you.”

“You don't,” Aemond mutters.

“Are you okay?” Daeron asks, resisting the urge to punch him or roll his eyes. “Why didn't you tell us what happened?”

“Yeah, like I would judge you for it,” Aegon laughs. “I hooked up with mom's pilates instructor while dating Alysanne.”

“Oh my God. I'm not like you, Aegon.”

“Realization sucks, right? It's tough. We've all been there. Fortunately for you, I'm the worst of us,” Aegon laughs. The two youngest ones remain silent, and the sound of crickets is the only thing heard for a moment. “Screw you both. You could try telling me otherwise.”

“Well...” Daeron hisses.

“Fuck you, seriously” Aegon flips them off. “Back to the important stuff. What happened with Floris?”

Aemond gets lost staring at a fixed point on the snow-covered ground, as if he's recalling all the events that led him to do what he did. But he can't. “I don't know,” he confesses sincerely. “I don't...”

“Do you love her?” Daeron asks.

“How could I not love her? She's been with me all my life. And I've been with her all her life. Since we were kids. School, my accident, high school. Birthdays, funerals, parties. She's always been there. We've always been me and her. Just like Helaena and Annika. Or Aegon and… Alcohol.”

“Oh, no. You’re making jokes now?” Daeron panics, and Aegon chuckles. “That doesn't mean you love her. It means you're used to her. And Floris doesn't deserve that. Neither do you.”

“I know she doesn't. She deserves something better,” Aemond says. “And I really care about her, and it hurts to have lost her, and it hurts to think about a life without her.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “She'll always be there. You know, Helaena will never let go of those two girls. They've always been a pain in the ass for us and always will be. That's the fun part of being us.”

Aegon knows they would always be with them because their friendship with Helaena was not going to end. He knows Annika and Helaena would always be friends. But Aegon and Annika wouldn't always be together.

“I guess you're right.”

“Why didn't you invite me to come here with you?” Daeron asks suddenly. “I could have... I don't know. I understand you didn't want to spend Christmas at home, but I didn't think you wouldn't want to spend it with me.”

“Hey, you didn't want to spend it with us either. Otherwise, why did you come here with just your girlfriend?” Aegon questions. “We thought you'd get bored, and honestly... You are still not old enough to enter the casino or drink excessively.”

Daeron rolls his eyes. “You think I don't have a fake ID? I could have come with you.”

“And if you had come, we probably would have avoided this nightmare before Christmas situation,” Aemond says, scratching his good eye. “I don't know, I guess it’s hard for us to think you’re not longer a kid.”

“Sometimes it hurts being left out all the time, you know?”

“Welcome to being a Targaryen in the real world,” Aegon says, patting his shoulder. “You're officially invited to our Christmas getaway in 2024. And this time, it will be just the three of us.”

“No, I think I'll go home for Christmas next year,” Aemond shakes his head. “It's a pain in the ass, but not as much as being here in this situation.”

“I shouldn't have asked about the teacher thing,” Daeron laments.

“You had no idea. I didn't even know either,” Aegon sighs. “Did she tell the girls? Helaena seemed surprised. And I don't think Annika knew either.”

Aemond shrugs. “When it happened, she packed her things and didn't say a word to me. We know Floris; she's quiet, reserved, and she won't show what she doesn’t want you to find out. She wouldn't go with Helaena to tell her that her brother is a liar and a cheater, and she wouldn't tell Annika because she's also my friend. Was. Whatever.”

“I don't think she'll stop talking to you; she'll just give you a hard time. You know Annika,” Daeron reassures. “By the way, is it true about the piercing?”

Aegon smirks. “It's true.”

“Did you see it?” Daeron asks, with a grin.

Aemond smacks him on the back of the head. “Have some respect.”

“Oh, I saw it,” and other things. Daeron wants to ask what he has always wanted to ask, but he bites his tongue, remembering the situation that unfolded because of his questions. Aegon notices and appreciates it. “Well, the party is obviously over. We should eat something and go to bed. If we're lucky, the storm won't be so bad, and you can leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daeron says, suddenly a bit dejected. He actually wants to stay. “Right. That sounds good.”

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Annika and Floris made no appearance while the rest had dinner watching a horror movie. The girl went downstairs for some food for Floris and then apologized to Willa and Logan for their absence, going back upstairs with her friend immediately.

Aegon drank more beer with dinner, and as soon as they finished eating, Aemond tried to wash some dishes, then went to his room alone without saying a word. Daeron had looked at Logan and Helaena, who were talking and laughing as if nothing had happened, with a strange expression and asked, “Where do you plan on sleeping?”

Helaena pinched his cheek as if he were a little kid. “You are adorable.”

It was her kind way of telling him to fuck off.

And although Daeron invited Willa to swim in the indoor pool, she claimed she wanted to go to bed, too tired to even breathe. If he had to be honest, all the drama had exhausted him too. So, the gang was reduced to Aegon, Helaena, and Logan. Aegon couldn't stand to third wheel with her little sister and a guy who dresses like some dude out of a Netflix Christmas rom–com , so he grabbed some beers and went up to his room with plans to drink until he passed out.

It doesn't happen.

He grunts and gets out of bed, exhausted from trying to sleep. The drunkenness already is part of his natural mental state.

The only lights on the house are the Christmas tree lights tinkling at a strange pace, and besides the muffled music echoing from the pool and the occasional laughter from Helaena, the only thing that can be heard is the squeaking wind. He makes his way to the kitchen feeling utterly cold; the heating in his room was so high that the change is brutal. He's not going to bother looking for the heating controls at this hour, and the fire in the living room fireplace has almost died down.

The refrigerator light beams on Annika's figure. She's sitting on the counter, with a glass of water, a pack of cigarettes, and staring at her dimly lit phone screen. She's wearing a black and pink satin pyjama set, tank top and shorts, and a somewhat warm robe, but she looks frozen. Her hair is wet.

“Late-night swim?” Aegon asks, startling her. “That brings back memories.”

Annika clicks her tongue. “No, I had to shower. Needed to get Floris's vomit off me.”

“Yikes,” he sticks out his tongue. “How's she doing?”

“Well... She... It's going to be tough.”

"You didn't know about…?”

She shakes her head, putting her phone aside. “No. She came to our flat one day with suitcases and teary eyes, and there was no need for her to say anything. We assumed that, well, she would tell us in her own time. She just said they wouldn't be coming back together, not like other times, and we figured it must be serious because she flew from Boston to New York,” she explains. “Did you know?”

“No, of course not,” he shakes his head. “Hey, don't give Aemond a hard time.”

“I couldn't care less about Aemond.”

“Did she fall asleep?”

“Passed out from crying too much, rather. I can't believe he did this to her. I mean... Ugh. It's something we might have expected from you, certainly not from him.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugs as he takes a seat on the bureau next to her. “I know my limitations, believe it or not. For starters, I would never be in such a closed relationship for so many years. They were in a cage, both of them.”

Annika rolls her eyes. “Can you believe they had a threesome?”

“I know, right?” Aegon laughs, and she joins in. “The kind of stuff I'd expect from you. Trying to revive a relationship that's clearly dead by adding a third party.”

She laughs. “Sounds like something I would do. You know how much I tend to cling to things even when the odds aren't in my favour.”

Aegon sighs. “So...”

“So...?”

“Can I see it?” Aegon suddenly asks, and Annika looks at him confused. “Your piercing.”

“I thought you said you saw it in the shower,” she says, placing the glass of water on the marble table. It makes a noise that feels louder than it actually is, and she squirms uncomfortably at the thought that someone might have heard it and finds them there, alone, together.

For someone who claims to be a loner, Aegon has a constant need for attention and contact, especially if it's from Annika. It's nothing new; he used to pull her braids when they were kids to attract her attention. Now he begs her to let him see her boobs. Normal.

He smiles. “I didn't. Everything was full of steam and foggy.”

“But you saw it. You were there when I got it done,” Annika reminds him, embarrassed. “You gave me the little piece of chocolate when my blood pressure dropped. You put a can of Coke on the back of my neck and helped me button my blouse.”

“First of all, it was Dr. Pepper. And second, it doesn't count because I didn't see it properly. And you left before we could do anything...” He shrugs. Annika squints her eyes. “I want to see it. Please.”

“You exposed me in front of everyone and almost got us caught. Why would I show it to you?”

“Because you're good at giving me what I want,” he says, devilishly smiling as he leans toward her.

“And what about what I want, huh? Not everyone can have what they want. I want a unicorn, for example.”

“I'll buy you a horse and pay to have a surgical pink horn put on it. Damn, I'd pay to have wings attached and teach it to fly if you want a freaking rainbow pegasus,” he roars, his voice deep.

Annika laughs and lowers the strap of her satin pajamas so Aegon can see. Not sure why she does it, but Annika loves to give him what he begs for. He doesn't ask for permission to stroke the side of her breast with his thumb, right at the curve. He moves her wet hair back and sighs as he feels the goosebumps on her skin.

“I like it. Although sometimes I catch it with the towel, and it's a little annoying,” she tries to ignore the fact that he's touching her after months and that when he touches her, her skin turns scarlet, just like everything around her. She looks up to find his gaze. “You were right, anyway.”

Annika never knew how, but it was he who had convinced her to get them because she was so sensitive in that area. Maybe she just wanted to please him, or maybe he knew that Aegon, even if he didn't admit it, knew her very well. He always knew better when it came to her.

“Have you tried it?” He asks.

“No, not really. I'm afraid it might still get infected. Besides...” She paraphrases, and Aegon lightly strokes the surface of her skin with his fingers. Another shiver runs through her, and she falls silent. “We shouldn't.”

“It's Christmas Eve. We're both alone...” He suggests, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “I know you don't like being alone on holidays. You always have someone to warm your bed. And your options here are quite limited.”

“You're alone because you want to be alone,” Annika tells him, letting out a sigh. “I might have left, Aegon, but you let me go.”

“And you never tried hard enough either,” Aegon retorts. He pushes her swiftly, standing up and cornering her against the kitchen counter, slipping between her legs hanging from the high stool and placing his arms on the counter on either side of her body. Their breaths mix. “Please, let me do it.”

“I mourned you, Aegon,” Annika reminds him. “It hurt, what you did. How you laughed when that woman at the store mistook us for a couple. How you looked me in the eyes and said that what we had was all in my head. It was humiliating. That's why I left, because you hurt me. And after all that, you blame me for not reaching out for you? How can you say that?”

“I would have hurt you worse if you hadn't left, and you know it,” he says. He doesn't ask for permission either when he delicately strokes the tip of the jewelled nipple with care, and Annika hisses, hypersensitive as ever, melting in his hands. He smiles. “There it is. That’s my sweet girl. My favourite girl.”

She doesn't say anything and covers her mouth when he leans and catches her nipple between his teeth carefully. He knows how she likes it best, and the taste of the soft flesh mixed with the metallic aftertaste it’s exceedingly erotic. It's so intense that she has to close her legs together immediately as she feels that tingling sensation, although his body doesn't allow it. The way she feels stimulated inside and out is almost unbearable, and she unconsciously puts her hand through her shorts because she knows Aegon will spend a while playing with her before even doing anything.

When she tries to ease that discomfort, Aegon grabs her wrist and removes her hand from her shorts. She shivers when she loses contact, but he brings her fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, and Annika breathes heavily.

“Please,” she implores, grabbing him by the neck. He knows she's not asking him to fuck her exactly; she's asking for more. She tiptoes, grabs his cheeks, and tries to make him look into her eyes. “Aegon, please.”

He grunts with difficulty. He shoves his hand inside her shorts, pulls her underwear to a side and, without warning, shoves two fingers in; she's so wet that it offers no resistance.

“Isn't this enough?” He asks, moving the way he knows she likes. Annika opens her mouth and moans against his lips, and through the refrigerator light, he sees her wet eyes and a tear sliding down her cheek. “Why isn't this enough, huh?”

Why am I not enough for you? If I were, maybe we could be.

“I want...”

“No,” he hisses to silence her and prevent her from finishing that sentence. “You want to come on my fingers, that's all. You want my body. And I want yours. That's it.”

No, it's not.

She shakes her head. He doesn't stop, feeling Annika's heart beating against his own chest and how she tightens around his fingers as she struggles to stay still and not make any loud noises.

“I want you,” she tells him, quickly and muffled in a moan, against his lips when she orgasms. Aegon kisses her and swallows the pathetic declaration she utters, holding her with the other hand to feel her close before she goes away forever, but she seems to read his mind. “It's me, Aegon. Me. I'm not going to leave, and I want you. And I want everything from you.”

He wishes he could say yes to her, but he doesn't. He can't do that to Helaena, no matter how much he desires the same. He has to sort out his life first. He's not going to stop drinking. He can't see himself working in his father's company, marrying her, having children. He can't see himself disappointing her over and over when he turns out not to be what she wants.

She wasn't raised for the conventional either. She also has an intense fear of abandonment that would make her do anything for him to stay. This ends in two ways; either she leaves when she realizes she made a mistake and hates herself for letting herself be hurt by him, or she becomes an unknown version that assembles and disassembles for his entertainment.

In both scenarios, he loses her. Physically and emotionally. Two sides of the same coin.

Aemond couldn't stand a relationship of so many years and cheated on Floris. Aemond. The perfect son, Aemond. The perfect boyfriend, Aemond. The gentleman who would propose as soon as he graduated from college, buy an apartment, provide for his family, and have Alicent's first grandchildren...

“Say something,” Annika begs him, pulling him out of the thoughts that have fallen one after the other like a row of dominoes. She clings to him while with the other hand she runs it over his bare torso. He hasn't realized that he no longer feels cold. “Aegon. Anything. Anything, please.”

He can't.

“This is who I am. This is what I can offer you.”

“I'm not a child anymore. I don't want to fly to another country to see each other in secret and act like a couple for two weeks just for you to discard me like trash and go fuck someone else when you’re bored of me.”

He’s never bored of her, though. He just drinks her away. Smokes her away. Fucks her away.

And he knows it's been enough when she sobs.

He puts his hands over hers and separates her from his body. Now he feels the cold of Aspen again. If there was mistletoe above their heads, it's most likely withered. He gives her a kiss on the forehead and wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks.

“I'll leave my door open,” he warns her as he walks toward his room without looking back. But he knows it's useless; Annika won't come.

He leaves her crying in the kitchen, silently, on Christmas Eve. Because that's the kind of person he is. Annika knows. She has always known. She has seen the girls crying in the kitchen before; this time is no different. She has seen the girlfriends he brought on family trips. How he runs them dry. How he breaks their souls.

But Aegon knows that Annika is not like them. He knows that Annika means much more than anyone else. And he knows he can't. He would feel like a bird trapped in a box. He would make her miserable...

He promised to her mother he wouldn’t.

And he knows she deserves something better.

“At least admit it,” she asks him, from the other end of the kitchen when he's about to cross the door. He doesn't turn to look at her. “At least admit that it was real.”

But he leaves nonetheless.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Freya died when Annika was fifteen, and Aegon seventeen. She had been diagnosed with one of those strange and lethal diseases a few months earlier. Aegon couldn't remember the name, but they had told him. He still doesn't know why to this day.

Perhaps because he was the eldest. Because Alicent had pushed him out first, a measly two years before Helaena, and two measly years before Freya gave birth to her daughter. Annika only found out about her mother's illness a month before she passed away. And when it started to get ugly, her parents sent her away. She couldn't be with her when she died, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't ever come to terms with it...

And she never found out that Aegon knew all along.

Alicent had always told him that he had to take care of his younger siblings and, by extension, Annika, who seemed more like a sister to Helaena than he ever was. Annika wiped Helaena’s tears and Annika fought Helaena’s bullies and even Aemond’s at times. Freya said that Annika could take care of herself, but she wouldn't object to having Aegon around. At times, Aegon might have felt that Freya was the only person who still saw him as the golden child and not as the boy who fucked up everything he touched. Freya would entrust Aegon with her most precious possession without a second thought.

But one day, on one of those days when she was pretending to be okay for her daughter's sake, she saw Aegon drinking his third glass of the evening and shook her head. She put a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “I'm not going to ask you to take care of her once I’m gone; it's not your responsibility. But it would hurt me a lot if you were the one who ends up hurting her.”

Two years later, he went off to college and said he wanted nothing to do with that damn debutante ball, but he made the damn mistake of attending anyway.

The rest is a story not fit for Christmas.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

The holidays should be a time of love and peace, and yet, in the Targaryen Aspen retreat cabin, the only festive thing is the fact the atmosphere is as bitter as the mistletoe. Helaena, Logan, and Willa, the designated cooks and the only ones who seem to know how to use the stove and microwave, are the ones preparing breakfast. Floris sits on the windowsill, watching as the snow falls heavily and sticking to the ground outside. The noise of the television and the crackling fire is all that can be heard.

Aemond and Daeron play a game of express chess after setting things on the coffee table for breakfast. Aegon watches them while smoking a cigarette inside, much to Helaena's dismay, as he has no desire to step onto the icy exterior.

Annika is the last to appear, wearing those ridiculous fur boots and a pink Chanel sweater with a Camellia logo. Her steps and the sound of the two huge suitcases being dragged down the stairs make everyone look towards the staircase, desperate for someone to break the ice. She shrinks under the attention, very uncharacteristic of her, and Aegon sees Helaena and Floris exchange worried glances.

“What are you doing?” She asks, watching them prepare pancakes for breakfast.

“Breakfast,” Willa says. “Do you want coffee?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don't want coffee. I want to leave. The night has passed. I thought everyone would be ready to leave. Usually, I'm always the last to be ready.”

“You can't leave. The roads are filled with snow that probably no one will clear until after Christmas. There was a storm last night. It's not safe,” Logan reminds her, pointing to the TV where the weatherman urges residents and visitors to stay indoors until further notice. “Even if you could cross the road, there are no flights available.”

Annika smiles and takes off the sunglasses she was wearing. “No, I'll ask my dad to send his pilot, duh. I'm not taking any commercial flights. I wanted to ski for Christmas, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to the nearest place with snow and a sauna.”

Daeron and Aemond look at each other, aware that the unpleasant part of Annika is speaking. Something is wrong.

“Well, I don't want to leave. We're here already, we can make it worthwhile,” Hel tells her. Annika rolls her eyes.

“Fine, you stay. Floris?”

She opens her mouth and sighs. “It's not that I want to stay, but flying in these conditions... I don't know. It's only two more days. Maybe even tomorrow we can leave. I'm not going to risk it.”

“Great. I guess it's just me,” Annika grumbles, grabbing her suitcases. “Well, have fun, I suppose. Au revoir. Arrivederci. Goodbye. Chau.”

“I'll go,” Floris says, resigned, and walks behind her. Daeron does the same, and Aegon follows them out of pure curiosity. “Annika, you can't leave!”

“She's right, it's not safe!” Daeron shouts from the door. She has started to drag her suitcases down the stairs with difficulty, the stupid boots slipping on the ice. The car is covered in snow, and it will take her a while to clear it, not to mention that the snow keeps falling.

“Watch me!” She says, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the first suitcase. She holds onto the railing and makes the ascent again, slipping several times. Then she grabs the other suitcase.

“At least let me help you,” Daeron offers. He shakes off the cold and takes Annika's suitcase. She struggles for a moment, insisting she can do it, but he prevails and lifts it.

“Be careful,” Floris says, putting a hand to her mouth. “Annika, would you call when...?”

“Fuck!” Annika yells when she slips down the stairs. Aegon sees her lose balance and fall to her ass, hitting herself several times before reaching the stone path.

If he weren't concerned because he heard her hit her head against a step, he definitely would have burst into laughter. Floris also screams, shocked, and Daeron drops the suitcase in the snow to rush to help her.

“Annika!”

“Daeron, don't throw my suitcase in the damn snow!” She reproaches him, holding her head with one hand.

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Aegon deduces, descending the porch steps carefully. Annika doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

“What happened?” Helaena asks, coming out with the rest through the front door. “Oh, God. Are you alright?”

“I'm fine. I tripped,” she admits, defeated. Daeron and Floris take one of each arm and help her to her feet. When she stands and puts her weight on her feet, she begins to whimper in pain and holds onto both. “Ouch, ouch!”

“What's happening?” Daeron asks.

“My ankle!” She complains. “It hurts, hurts! Oh, God. What if it’s broken? What if I can't walk ever again?”

“Calm down. I don't think it's broken; if it were, you'd be crying,” Logan tells her, quickly descending the stairs. He replaces Floris' grip on one side of her body. “Can you put weight on it?”

“No, it hurts like a son of a bitch. Shit,” Annika moans, and Logan lifts her into his arms to take her back into the house. “Daeron! Bring my suitcases!”

He sighs but obeys. The last thing he wants is to bother her more than she already seems. Everyone enters behind Logan, and he takes her to the living room while Floris cleans the melting snowflakes from her hair.

Logan leaves her on the couch and sits in front of her on the coffee table, resting her foot on his lap. Without asking for permission, he tries to untie the boot, but he doesn't understand much about its operation. He tries to remove it with pressure, but she screams and writhes in pain.

“No, no! Don't do that!” She scolds him. “Damn it. I can't believe it.”

“I don't want to say I told you so, but I told you so,” Floris says, arms crossed. “Those boots are the death of you.”

“Maybe we just need to cut the boot off,” suggests Aemond.

Annika throws a cushion at him for the brutal idea.

“Not the Moschino. No!”

“It's probably just a sprain. But either we cut it off, or I could still trying to take it off and hurt you even more,” Logan tells her.

“I would sacrifice the boot,” Helaena tries to reason. “We can get another pair. You can't get another foot; that's for sure.”

“Kill me. Kill me now,” she says, bringing a cushion to her face and screaming into it. “Fine. Cut them. Kill them. Just do it quickly. I don't want to see.”

Helaena squeezes her shoulder, standing behind the sofa where Annika has put her head on the backrest and taken the cushion to her face. Willa hands Logan a knife, who puts it through the boot and tries to cut the material with considerable difficulty while Annika whimpers. If one were to see the scene from a distance, they would probably think they were cutting off her foot.

When he removes the boot and the thermal sock, everyone analyses the extremely swollen ankle with disgust.

“Is it bad?” She asks, removing the cushion from her face but not daring to speak. Aegon puts it back on her face, wrinkling his nose, but she hits him. “Don't touch me. Logan. Is it really bad?”

“Well...”

She opens her eyes wide. “Oh, my God!”

“Hey, don't worry,” he tries to calm her, patting her knee gently when she starts to cry. “You'll be fine. Painkillers, rest, and lots of ice. Everything will be fine; you'll be walking in—“

“Give it to me,” she reaches out her arms.

“What?” Logan asks, confused.

Aemond lightly hits his arm. “She means the boot.”

“The... The boot?”

Aegon nods. “Yes, she's crying over the boot.”

“It was so beautiful!” She exclaims when Willa hands it to her, and she hugs it with distress. “It's not fair. I bought them on our trip to Milan. They were the last pair. Do you remember, Flo? Do you remember how we were walking, and I saw them in the shop window, and...?”

Logan looks around, not understanding how no one seems surprised or confused by the girl's attitude. It's Daeron who whispers in his ear, “She cries over trivial things to avoid crying about what she really has to cry about. The odds of her being incredibly sore are very high, but she won't admit it.”

“Oh, well,” he scratches his neck, uncomfortable. “Bring her some ice. Try not to put weight on your foot for a while and keep it elevated.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least you didn't ruin your cashmere sweater,” Helaena says cheerfully. Willa frowns, observing her pink sweater for a moment.

“I want to go home,” she protests. “Why does everything have to happen to me?”

“It'll be okay. We'll have breakfast so you don't take a painkiller on an empty stomach, and you can try to leave when the swelling goes down,” Logan reassures her, getting up from the table and walking to the kitchen. Then he turns to Floris. “Yeah, she's not going anywhere. Not today, at least.”

Floris bites her lip, a little amused, and shakes her head. “A Christmas Eve to remember,” she says, and then helps everyone set the table for breakfast.

By mid–afternoon, everyone has had a few drinks and taken a dip in the indoor pool. Floris and Aemond maintain an incredibly mature distance, astonishing Aegon as he discusses it with Willa. Daeron seems to have become very friendly with Logan.

Annika didn't want to move, and in a sour mood stayed on the couch watching some stupid Christmas movie.

“They are cute,” Willa says, referring to Helaena and Logan. Her red curls are dripping water, and she holds onto the edge of the pool while sipping a sip of a daiquiri Aegon made for her.

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Don't you like someone making her laugh? Daeron always says she's a pretty lonely person and has a hard time getting along with others.”

“Aren't we all?” He chuckles. “I guess... It's always us who bring our girlfriends home. I mean, if we don't count the little friend Daeron brought home at seven years old who started crying when he showed her Aemond's snake, and his mother picked her up half an hour later, you would officially be the first girl Daeron brought. And Aemond and Floris have been together forever. And I...”

“Bring a different girl to every gathering?” Willa laughs.

“Yeah, as pathetic as that sounds,” he continues. “The point is, Helaena has never brought anyone else but Annika. She's her person. We got so used to it that now it's weird to see her with someone else. I don't think any of us realized that one day we would meet her partner.”

“It's weird. They seem to have that confidence that makes you think they've known each other forever,” she ponders. “Anyway, it's nice that they get along. She can't be with Annika all the time, I think. Eventually, they'll have to find a significant other.”

He dips his head in the pool to avoid hearing the last words and then emerges, leaning his elbows on the pool's edge, rubbing the water off his eyes.

“And that will be a great day for everyone,” he sighs ironically. Willa inspects him carefully. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “I mean... I'm very observant.”

“Yeah, I remember. A very curious little mouse, I told Daeron.”

“When we went to your house in San Francisco, do you remember the day it got really cold, and the airline had lost my luggage?”

“Hm, vaguely.”

“You gave me a sweater to wear while Daeron and I replaced my clothes.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You told me to be careful not to ruin it,” Willa tries to make him remember. “It was a pink cashmere sweater with a Camellia. Like the one Annika's wearing.”

Aegon bites his cheek. He knew he shouldn't lend the clothes Annika had forgotten at his apartment. Man, Annika never lends her clothes. How could he be so stupid?

“Sure... It's… It was mine. We bought it on sale. You know, two for the price of one,” he says, nervously laughing. He’s more worried about Annika finding out he lend her sweater. “It's very soft, much softer than any other fabric. I like wearing it. Yes. And I love pink. I have that sweater at home, and a lot of other pink clothes. I'd show you...”

“Aegon,” she sighs amused. “I'm not going to say anything.”

“You're not going to say anything about what?” He asks, trying not to sound mortified.

“You and Annika,” she murmurs, so only he can hear.

Aegon laughs. “There's no me and Annika.”

“You knew about her piercing, and she looked too worried when you mentioned it, but not surprised. Come on. I think everyone knows; they're just waiting for you two to say it and pretending not to know,” Willa tells him.

“There's nothing to say. It was... Nothing. Just something physical. It didn't mean anything.”

“What didn't mean anything?” Daeron asks, appearing out of nowhere behind Willa and hugging her around the waist. “Is Aegon bothering you?”

“I think I'm bothering him,” she says playfully.

He climbs onto the pool's edge, coming out of the water dripping, and walks to grab a towel without saying a word. After almost completely drying himself, he goes to the living room where Annika watches the Grinch, sitting in the same position they left her, with a blanket over her lap and ice over her head.

“He looks like you,” he tells her, ignoring the fact that he left her crying in the kitchen the night before. He always does that.

“I'm not in the mood,” she says, not moving her eyes from the screen. He peeks behind her and shakes his head to wet her. “Bite me.”

“Aren’t you a delight,” he says, taking a seat next to her. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” she replies, arms crossed and clearly a bit drowsy from the painkillers, without even looking at him.

“I thought we called on a truce.”

“I think we shouldn't talk at all,” she tells him. The indifferent tone stirs something acidic in Aegon's chest, and he squirms with sadness. “Oh, sorry. Was I too harsh?”

“I don't understand why you're angry. I should be angry. You gave me the blue balls. At least you got to finish.”

She looks at him and lets out a laugh. “I can't stand you.”

“Where do you think you're going?” He asks when he sees her trying to get up.

“Far away from you,” she says, being careful not to put weight on her foot. Aegon takes her arm and throws her back on the couch. She lets out a groan and wriggles, trying to escape his grip, but he holds her by the waist and presses her to his chest. “Let me go.”

“There’s something you need to know. Willa knows about us,” he warns, putting his mouth to her ear. She shifts uncomfortably. “It's just a matter of time before everyone finds out.”

“Then you kill her to keep the secret. God forbid someone finds out you touched me, or even looked in my direction.”

“Do you think that's the problem?” He asks, his palm resting on her stomach, lips against her neck. “You think I care if anyone finds out?”

“You made it pretty clear.”

“Do you want me to make you come again in this sofa where anyone could walk in and see us?” He asks, kissing her under the ear as he moves his hand from her navel to her centre. “You might understand that’s not what I’m worrying about, then.”

Annika hits his hand off and lets go of his grip. “No. I want you to leave. I'm serious. I don't want you to talk to me, look at me, or breathe in my direction. I don't want you near.”

He smiles crookedly. “Definitely harsh.”

“Go away. I can't go up the stairs, so I'm asking you to leave.”

She leans back against the backrest and covers herself with the blanket, resting her cheek on her hand. Aegon sighs in defeat. He’s not used to being rejected by her, if she ever got complicated usually some sweet talking and his fingers worked like charm to remedy her.

“Annika...”

“I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses,” she says. “You can take your blue balls and shove them in the snow as far as I’m concerned. And if you feel lonely, you have two hands.”

He looks at his hands.

It would hurt me a lot if you hurt her.

If he stays, he'll hurt her. If he leaves, he'll hurt her.

Freya was wrong. His mother, too. He can’t take care of her.

“Can I stay here and watch the movie at least?” He sighs, noticeably tired. She looks at him sideways and doesn't answer, but gives him a piece of her blanket. He settles a bit closer to her and curls up in his place, feeling a bit cold. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I want you to shut up.”

He nods. “Okay. Deal. I'll shut up.”

But he can't. He glances at her certain times, focused on the movie and looking as unhappy as ever. He clicks his tongue.

“You know...”

“No. I don't want to know.”

“Fine,” he nods again. Moves his leg frantically and manages to keep quiet for two full minutes. “But, if you think about it...”

Annika puts the TV on mute and turns to look at him. He stays silent when those green eyes haunt him. “It was real. It wasn't a waste of time. I wasn't just another one of your girls. It was different. It always has been. You were there, and it was real.”

“Of course, it wasn't a waste of time,” he starts saying. Freya's voice drills into his head. It would hurt me a lot if you hurt her. “And it was real.”

“And why don't you admit it?”

“What do you want me to admit?” He sighs, tired, and rests his cheek on the back of the sofa. Silver hair wets the green fabric, but he doesn't care.

“That you want me.”

“I can show you how hard I am so that –“

“That you love me,” she corrects.

He tries to escape, almost panicked, but she takes his cheeks and forces him to look at her. Her eyes are hypnotic. Her cheeks. Her skin. Her hair. The nose and eyelids reddened from crying so much because of him.

Of course, he does.

She's so close that their lips almost touch. He has leaned over her, because he does love her. Because she's right. And she no longer wants to run away... But he can't say it. However, he finds another way to be honest.

“I knew when your mother got sick,” he says, delicate as if confessing a sin. “I always knew. And she told me I shouldn't take care of you because you could take care of yourself, but that the idea of me hurting you would sadden her. I can’t do that to her.”

She leans back even though he tries to kiss her. She moves back so much that it cuts through his chest.

“What?” She gasps, not understanding. “What... What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”

And there's more. And there's so much you don't know. Because I've loved you since we were kids. Because I've taken care of you since we were kids. You don't have the right to treat me like a villain. I've always taken care of you. This time is no different.

“Aegon,” she calls him, in a sob. But he doesn't react, so she hits him in the chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you say something like that? Why would you even –“

“Because it's the truth. You wanted to know the truth. There it is,” he says. “We can't be together, Annika. I've learned to live with that, and you should too.”

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Floris pours herself a glass of water while Aemond looks at her with a dangerously careful gaze. He has always been tough, since they were kids, and it worsened after the incident with his eye. The sapphire only makes him appear tougher, ruthless, even.

But Floris cannot see anything other than his good side. His heart. The way he cares about his family, even Annika, with whom he always had a somewhat distant relationship. He cares.

That's why it was strange when she found him with their professor. It wasn't strange to have packed her things and taken the next flight to move from one state to another in less than six hours though.

He didn't object.

It's the first time they see each other, and there's a lot to say. He sent her things, and everyone moved on. She doesn't know what happened to the apartment or that damn snake of his that wouldn't let her have a puppy because it might eat it.

“Floris,” he finally calls her. She can't look at him. She can't see the person who cares and matters to her, who would never have hurt her. It's a different person standing beside her. “Please, look at me. We need to talk.”

She shakes her head. “We don't need to talk.”

“We need to clear things up.”

She smiles ironically. “What do you want to clarify? You slept with a teacher multiple times over these past few years and brought her to my house, to my bed. Do you have a valid reason? Other than the fact that you obviously no longer love me?”

Aemond weighs it for a moment. And then nods.

“I do love you.”

She laughs. “Sure.”

“You're my best friend. The best I've ever had in my life.”

“And then? Why did you do this to me?” She asks. There's no anger in her tone, as if the anger had dissipated after the exhaustive conversation with Annika, who she covered in snot and vomit. It's curiosity, no more, no less. It's intrigue.

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know I have my issues, but I firmly believe I've never done anything to hurt you. Not intentionally at least. I haven't been a bad girlfriend or a bad friend either. So, I ask you again, if you love me, why did you do this to me?”

“Because I love you,” he nods. “It's easy for me to love you, Flo. It's warm, and you feel like home to me. But I'm not a kid anymore, and neither are you. Adults have to leave their homes to create their own paths.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “I thought we were happy.”

“We were. I am. And I really don't want to lose you... But I cannot keep doing this,” he sighs, and gently takes her hand. “I'm sorry. It was stupid. And I don't think you can forgive me, but...”

“You're right, I can't,” she tells him, sniffing. “You should have told me what you felt when you felt it. You shouldn’t have let me waste all this past years. We could have found a solution; we did when, you know… Or we could have... –“

“Flo, there was nothing else to do. We tried everything,” Aemond tells her, a bit firmer now. “You don't love me in that way either. I know you, and I'm sorry. I've felt this distance between us for a while. You're not happy in Boston. You're happier with Annika and Helaena in New York. You would be happier if you had a dog instead of a snake. You would be happy if you explored a bit of who you are and what you want to be besides me.”

She sobs. “How am I supposed to go on after this?”

Aemond knows she might not, but maybe, after all, it's the only way for her to understand that between them, there's nothing but the love they've outgrown. Childish, puppy love.

“I'm sorry. It was stupid. And I'm not even seeing her. I guess I needed a getaway car, and that's the one I found... I guess you'll have to be the better person here and forgive me. It will take time, but I hope you know that I really mean it when I say I regret what I did to yoy.”

Floris clicks her tongue and rubs her face with her hands. “Well, you never apologized for anything. So I guess you are saying the truth. But it only makes me feel worse because this means you screwed up big time and you’re aware of it.”

He lets out a little laugh and leans in to kiss her on the forehead. “You taught me a lot. More than anyone else in my life. You gave me everything you could, and it's time for both of us to move on with what we taught to each other. When you're ready, when you're at peace... I hope I can be your friend again. Because I can't bear the thought of you not being in my life anymore.”

She understands what he means. Not in a romantic way, but they know each other too well. No one will ever know him so much, and vice versa. No one will ever live what they lived together.

“I’m always gonna love you,” she confesses. Again, not in a romantic way, but there's no need to clarify that.

Aemond tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m always gonna love you, too.”

“I need time. A lot. When I go back to New York, I'm going to transfer a university there. I fell behind a bit, but I'll catch up. I'll go to therapy, and I'll learn to forgive you. But I don't want to see you for a while.”

It hurts him almost as much as the pain that sometimes paralyzes half of his face.

But he knows he deserves it.

“You'll be fine,” he tells her. “You were always… Resilient. More so than me.”

“I know,” Flo smiles. “I’ll be fine. I got my girls with me.”

[atopvisenyashill]

my asoiaf crack ships

Jon/Sam/Gilly i KNOW the forced baby switching makes this uncomfortable i don't care they have my heart!!

Jon/Aegon Vi listen, beyond my jokey "jon finally finds a hot single twink to smush only to find out they're brothers" take, i think given all of jon's bastard baby brother issues re: robb colliding with general targ gender & sexuality fuckery AND aegon's short fuse + raised by a proud gay dad + is dornish and they're less uptight about that shit has the ability to give me a homoerotic toxic spiral to rival visaemon and throbb and i will hold onto this until i'm dead and buried

Jon/Arianne i just want my faves to smush + "we were both in love with the same man" bicon duos are my favorites

Aegon IlI/Gaemon Palehair i know there's a wonky age difference but it's bc george is a coward and he knew if they were the same age they would have kissed on the mouth

Willas/Ellaria they bond over both being lovers of Oberyn and missing him (Willas/Oberyn isn't a crackship they're friends in canon i’m justified in having a crackship offshoot for a non canon ship alright!!!)

Baela/Cregan my opinion on the pact of ice and fire is that instead of being this vague thing where Jace's theoretical first born daughter goes North, Baela has to marry Cregan even tho the regents hate the idea of this and she winds up defying them, which gets her cut out of politics, the succession, and generally pariah-ed in the South. Then she never has a living child with Cregan after all that. It just makes way more sense to me that Cregan would want a Targ now and not in the theoretical future (plus you still have the pact thing re: the main series bc they never have a living child, and Jace doesn't actually get to crown Sara)

Black Aly/Alyn Oakenfist they both love a war crime, they're opposites aesthetically so it would look hot, plus I think "i left my culture, my religion, and my home to be with you only for you to constantly cheat on me including with your incredibly young Valyrian relative" is less aggravating and more tragic if its Black Aly instead of Baela "is vastly superior to everyone yet is constantly cheated on by her shit ass, mid lovers" Targaryen

Grey Worm/Jeyne Poole i had a dream where Grey Worm and a large band of unsullied decided to stay in the North after the war for the dawn and they fell in love due to shared history of extreme trauma and Sansa gave Jeyne away and helped Grey Worm design a coat of arms for the marriage cloak and now I’m attached to this idea.

[topazadine]

Writerly Questionnaire

Thanks to @the-golden-comet for the tag! I enjoyed reading your answers, especially the part about your characters!

Alright, here goes.

About Me

When did you first start writing?

I wrote my first story at age 7, started my first book at age 12 (no you can't read it, it's terrible) and published my first poem at age 15.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

Despite writing fantasy, I actually don't read much of it myself. My undergrad career focused most on British literature (specializing in Victorian lit) so that's what I'm most familiar with and what I like the most.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I don't really seek to emulate anyone because I have my own unique voice, and I don't really get compared to anyone else either. If you have suggestions of what I might sound like, fire away lmao, because I don't really know who I emulate. However, I take a lot of inspiration from Willa Cather for atmosphere and Emile Zola for realism.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

I exclusively write at my desk. My setup looks like this:

I need my little guys and my Emotional Support Stuffed Cow (her name is Bluebell the Moobell because she has a little bell in her). Note the knitting I'm procrastinating on at the bottom right lmao.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Funnily enough, I often get inspiration from my day job as an SEO writer, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with the types of stuff I write. Sometimes I'll just be hammering away at a Construction Accident Personal Injury Lawyer page and it strikes me that I need to kill one of my characters.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Sort of. I have this thing I do where I like to mentally walk through buildings I used to visit as a relaxation activity, like my childhood elementary school, so that's given me a good memory of how places are laid out. As for actual settings? No, most of those are just made up of pictures I've seen of different places that I've never visited.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Some of my recurring themes include: Degradation/transformation of memory Struggling against fate/the unknowability of fate Found family Abusive relationships Moral relativism Satisficing (choosing between multiple suboptimal outcomes to pick the least harmful option) None of them surprise me; I recognize where they come from. For example, my obsession with the degradation and transformation of memory comes from my own struggles with dissociative amnesia, and my interest in satisficing comes from my International Relations degree. My concerns about the unknowability of fate come from the fact that I had a premonition that I'd die of a heart attack at 42. And I'm 32 right now. You can imagine that this influences my process lmao.

My Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

As a lesbian, I am not ashamed to say that I am deeply and passionately horny for Uileac (who you can meet in "Cachaille" or read about in 9 Years Yearning). Like how can you not go crazy for a man who thinks this is the perfect declaration of love?

He's so scary and so devoted, yet also very chill and laid-back? And funny? And athletic? And protective of his lil sis? He's just ... (screams into pillow)

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Ono. He's a Sinan royal guard who is just so sweet but also kinda dumb.

There's a scene where he has to ask Cerie what kind of menstrual products she needs for their trip, which is both mortifying and really adorable. He's just a really gentle and nice guy who I think would get along with damn near everyone.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

I think Mordrek would scare the absolute shit out of me ngl. Like ... bro just ... does this kind of shit on the regular

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

Uileac, Orrinir, and Ono were heavily inspired by Uguisumaru, Ookanehira, and Omokage from Touken Ranbu and I don't apologize for that. Obviously they are a bit different, but their personalities are quite similar. Cerie was developed from a roleplay where I was playing as Uguisumaru's made-up sister, so that's why she's Uileac's sister in Poesyverse. Haniya, Cerie's love interest, was made up by using personality testing and astrology to come up with Cerie's Perfect Match. No one knows where Mordrek came from. He just kinda showed up.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

They all have daddy issues. Every single fucking one of them.

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

All the art I have for my characters was made with AI before I realized AI was absolute garbage shit, so I'm not showing it, but I did commission a painting of Cerie from the amazing artist Caleb over on Twitter:

My Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

For me, that's kind of like asking why a bird sings. It's just what I do and what I have always done.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

Definitely when someone says that my writing helped them or resonated with them. My writing gives me catharsis and it feels really good when other people say they got that same sense of catharsis.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

As someone who takes risks that pay off.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Depicting trauma without being melodramatic.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

People have told me they like how meticulous and carefully set up my stories are without infodumping or being boring. They appreciate the work that goes into planning things, how it all pays off in the end and comes together nicely without plot holes.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I think I've come a long way and continue to improve, which is what is most important.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

The last Kauaʻi ʻōʻō still sang until the end. So yes.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

I write whatever the hell I feel like when I feel like it. People tend to like it, but if they don't, I enjoyed making it anyway.

Open tag!

[writing-rat]

Enid's Changes

Pairing: Wednesday x Enid

Warnings: None

Summary: Enid presents. Wednesday wants to know as what but knows it's rude to ask so she doesn't

It was a week after Nevermore started again after the incident with the hyde, where Bianca and Wednesday killed the pilgrim, where Enid changed into a werewolf and where Weems nearly died. She survived thankfully. It was different this semester however. Enid’s group of friends and herself were more respected, which Wednesday didn’t like. They were still threatened at least.

Wednesday wasn’t concerned about that however. She was more concerned about Enid because she was different. She was acting different and she was definitely taller. That was what lead wednesday to making a new page in a locked book so that Enid didn’t know she was conducting research. The first notes were how tall she had gotten from 5’5 to 5’8. The shorter girl had noticed it because she was looking up at Enid more than usual. That bugged her, but she also found it quite hot. She would never admit it however, that would ruin her reputation. That’s when she went to the library at night and snuck out some werewolf books. 

Enid was asleep when Wendesday came back so Wednesday had time to hide the book. She was thankful for that admittedly as she didn’t want to tell Enid what she was doing due to it involving her. She went to sleep after that. The next night Wednesday would be alone, Yoko and Enid were having a sleepover after all. Currently Wednesday was laid back in her bed with a book. It was ‘Frankenstein’, one of her favourites, when she glanced over at Enid grabbing a shirt out that she had never seen before. “New shirt?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yep! Do you like it?” Enid wondered, a bit self conscious admittedly. It was a pink shirt with a dog playing ball on it after all. 

“I don’t like it personally,” Wednesday responded. Enid looked dejected. “But it suits you,” Wednesday reassured. If Enid had her tail out right at that moment, it would be wagging.

“Really Willa? Thank you!” She exclaimed and jumped before she was starting to change. Wednesday meanwhile continued to read before Enid said bye. Wednesday went to respond but Enid was already gone. Wednesday sighed in relief before she was grabbing the werewolf book and was looking at the sections. She slowly started to read it.

-

Another change that Wednesday noticed was how Enid was with other wolves and even her friends. She seemed to have more control over them, and wasn’t teased as much. This unnerved Wednesday due to how the wolves treated her when she first came. Sure she punished a few wolves, but not enough for everyone to fear her yet. Currently Enid was passing the wolves table when a wolf got up immediately and went over. Wednesday, watching from the fountain, started to make notes quickly as she was knowing she’d remember hat happened already btu she wanted to write it while it was happening. She was wanting to hear but knew she couldn’t, which made her infuriated. She instead watched the body language as that would be deemed good enough. Enid looked uncomfortable. Just as she was about to help, the other wolf looked down and quickly left before Enid was walking to her friends, her confidence rising.

Meanwhile the wolf that had talked to her looked dejected, which made Wednesday curious. She would have to watch more. She soon went over to Enid’s table, and sat down next to her ignoring the others. She was sat there peacefully, staying still and just listening. Bianca then decided to tease her rival, smirking. “So the mighty Addams finally decided to join us,” Bianca teased, flashing her teeth. Wednesday snapped back. “I don’t believe myself to be better than anybody unlike you,” she responded, looking at Bianca deeply. Bianca just glared back, smirking.

“Oh really? Remember when you sa-” Bianca was about to retort when Enid cut in.

“Stop fighting both of you, you can both get along,” Enid growled out. Growling? That’s new. Both of them did shut up immediately, Wednesday looking normal while Bianca was feeling guilty. “Now apologise and make up,” Enid added on. 

“I am sorry Wednesday. I won’t tease Wednesday anymore unless we are fencing,” Bianca apologised immediately. Wednesday just glared, before Enid was looking at Wednesday and quirked an eyebrow. Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Wednesday,” Enid warned out. She heard the danger in Enid’s voice. “I am sorry Bianca. I shall retort to your petty comments while fencing,” Wednesday apologised. 

She saw how everyone was respecting Enid much more. Enid was quick to lighten up, but Wednesday was a flustered mess.

-

Enid had been having voice cracks for a few weeks halfway into the term, and Wednesday couldn’t help be shocked. She kept listening however to Enid whenever she spoke, noticing how her voice would be soft then it would crack and go deeper, sounding more like a growl at times. Wednesday would shiver each time, but then the voice would become soft again. She was also noticing how Enid was quickly becoming more muscly. Enid actually had to get new shirts, to which Wednesday helped pay with. The taller wolf had tried to reject originally until she realised that Wednesday would not budge. 

Wednesday meanwhile had kept notes of how she had to get new shirts and also the voice cracks and how she was growing muscle easily. She looked back at the werewolf book and it kept showing towards alpha. The only problem was that she couldn’t check if she was actually an alpha because she would have to check for a bulge, and she didn’t want to make her best friend turned crush uncomfortable. She also wasn’t wanting Enid to think she was a creep. She was currently at her desk, writing when Thing popped up. ‘I followed Enid around. She went to the shop and got some boxers for some reason. Can I have my hand lotion now?’ Thing tapped out. Sighing, Wednesday handed it over before she was writing down ‘getting boxers’ in her notes. That was enough proof, right? No, it couldn’t be. She knew how Yoko wore boxers because they were more comfortable apparently. She was soon starting to look up when she heard the doorhandle and quickly chucked her notebook under the floor before she was starting to write again.

“Hey Willa,” Enid greeted, yawning as she threw her bag down and flopped on her bed. “Sinclair,” she greeted back with her usual tone. She was blushing red however, her voice fully turning deeper. Enid just smiled as she stared at the back of the smaller girl. Soon, Wednesday stood up and cracked her neck then stretched before she stared back at Enid, jumping once she saw Enid in a shirt and a pair of boxers. “Sorry, I’m just so hot. I swear the AC better be fixed soon,” Enid apologised profusely. What caught Wednesday’s attention however was a bulge. Enid was unaware, before she glanced down and immediately covered it. “You are ok with that right?” she asked.

“You are an alpha,” Wednesday breathed out. Enid blinked in surprise but nodded. “Yeah… Willa, are you ok?” she asked confused. Wednesday nodded.

“I have been watching you since the start of term wondering if you was an alpha. That just proves it,” Wednesday explained. Enid just chuckled.

“No wonder I saw you staring in wonder and awe sometimes,” Enid hummed out before she was looking at the smaller girl. “I thought you just had a crush on me,” Enid teased. Wednesday blinked in shock. “And how would you react?” she asked, hiding her nervousness as much as possible.

“I would accept. You are my mate after all, and I know you like me,” Enid remarked, standing up and going to the short girl. Wednesday looked up, before she was suddenly picked up. Enid had a wolfish smirk. “So, what do you say? Be my mate?” Enid asked. Wednesday nodded, before she leaned in and kissed her gently. Enid was holding her easily as she kissed her, before slowly pulling away. “Want to go on  date in the forest tomorrow night? It is a full moon and I wonder if you want to go on a picnic before it then allow me to study your wolf form,” Wednesday asked. Enid grinned and nodded.

“My little researcher,” Enid teased, kissing Wednesday on the nose. Wednesday blushed hard. She could get used to this.

[heliads]

Family Woes

Based on this request: "Willa has a younger sister y/n and her and the wolf pack are overprotective and y/n can't leave their sight. So y/n runs away and the pack finds her and they make up and live happily ever after"

masterlist

Willa Lykensen is at her wit’s end trying to get this pack in order. She was never supposed to take it this far. Willa was nominated temporary leader of the werewolves when their moonstones were at an all time power shortage and everyone was sick. Sure, she did a decent job of getting everyone back in order, but they came pretty close to not coming out on top. 

Willa always assumed that once things were better, responsibility would leave her shoulders. The problem is that such a time has come again and again, and passed by just as quickly. Willa still remains in this position, slightly separated from everyone else yet unaware of how to get back to whoever she had been before all this. Willa tries to relinquish power, but no one takes it, and so she keeps on going anyway.

Sometimes she feels like a train that’s lost control, a great mass of steel and destruction hurtling at a thousand miles per hour towards the rocky unknown. Willa keeps slamming the brakes but nothing ever happens to stop her. At some point, she’s going to make a bad call and the pack is going to suffer, but until that moment, all Willa can do is keep pulling one Hail Mary after another to make sure her people stay alive and relatively unharmed.

So far, all is mostly well. They managed to find the moonstone and the werewolves were able to recharge their necklaces. They could even all take up homes in Seabrook and finally stop living on the outskirts of a place that had once been theirs. Willa goes to school, she makes friends, she learns enough in her books to realize that a kid like her shouldn’t have the job that she does.

At the same time, Willa has to admit that she sort of likes feeling important. Belonging is important to any werewolf, and she is no exception. It is something wonderful to feel wanted, needed even, but the stress is starting to tear her asunder. Willa looks in the mirror and swears a thousand times that she can do this. The reflection, a girl who could probably be her, mouths the same words back, but it’s far less believable when she’s looking herself in the eyes.

Willa’s friends seem to have confidence in her, which is nice. Willa would never dare show a single sign of weakness, but having her friends and family desert her might be her last straw. Wyatt stays by Willa’s side, and even the zombies and humans are able to offer up willing shoulders to lean on if she needs it.

There is one person that’s not entirely on Willa’s side, though. Although Willa does her best to run both the pack and her family, one of her closer relatives seems to stifle under Willa’s leadership instead of growing by it. Y/N, Willa’s younger sister, becomes more and more troublesome by the hour.

That’s what it feels like, at least. Willa asks Zed time and time again if it seems like she’s being too harsh on her younger sister, seeing as Zed is used to having a supernatural younger sister, but he assures her otherwise every time. Willa treats Y/N the same way as the rest of the pack, he sees no concern there.

Still, Willa feels differently. Willa tries to talk to Y/N almost every day, maybe even every hour, but Y/N shuts her down every time. Sometimes the missed connections just result in a sort of awkwardness that isn’t supposed to happen between siblings, other times it leads to fights that lead in one or both of the girls storming out until they pretend nothing happened for a temporary truce.

Willa tries, she really does. It’s just hard when Willa remembers what it had been like when they were younger. Willa swears there was a time in which the sisters actually did get along. It was them against the world, playmates and schoolmates and friends who could tell each other anything. It seems the changing of the times has split them apart as surely as only a difference in years truly can.

Previously, Willa had not been aware of the fact that she was getting older. The knowledge came incrementally, of course; new shoes were outgrown, jeans rose above her ankles, but all those signs could be ignored if one tried hard enough. It took more solid proof for her to come to grips with the fact that she was no longer quite so young and naive as she once had been. 

Willa rereads old books that had been her favorites and scoffs at the juvenile attitudes of the characters. Her sister tells Willa that she no longer acts the same way, even though Willa has no idea what would have been different in her attitude nor how to fix it. 

The only thing Willa can do is try to watch out for her sister. Willa doubles her focus, hoping that maybe making her sister feel important will build more bridges than it burns. The opposite happens; every time Willa shows a clear indication of trying to watch out for Y/N, the other girl recoils from Willa’s every move.

It all comes to a head about six months after the werewolves find the moonstone and move into Seabrook for good. Y/N came home several hours later after school without telling anyone that she wouldn’t be on time. Willa was pacing around the house when Y/N finally showed up.

Although Y/N tried to act like nothing was the matter, the guilty duck of her head when she opened the door to find Willa waiting for her was as sure a sign as any that she knew something was wrong.

Willa doesn’t wait for pleasantries, she never has. “Where were you?”

“Good to see you too,” Y/N mumbles, clearly annoyed, “Thanks for asking about my day, it was wonderful. How was yours?”

“Don’t try and play around,” Willa fires back, “you’re late. What happened?”

Y/N shrugs. “I was talking to a friend and we stayed late to study. No big deal.”

Y/N tries to move past, but Willa blocks her way. “Not so fast. You have to tell me about these sorts of things, you know. I had no idea where you were. For all I knew, you could have been hurt somewhere and in need of help.”

“Or I could have been just fine,” Y/N counters, “which is what happened. Seriously, calm down. I’m what, a couple of hours late? It’s not even dark outside yet.”

“You should be happy it’s not dark,” Willa argues, “if it was, I would have sent out some of the pack to search for you. You have to realize that this isn’t okay.”

Y/N scoffs. “That’s crazy. I’m allowed to have some freedom, you know.”

Willa folds her arms across her chest. “That freedom doesn’t involve giving me a heart attack every other day because you decide to do stuff like this. Come on, how hard is it to just text me?”

Y/N groans. “It shouldn’t even matter. You’re so overprotective, same as the rest of the pack. Just let me have a little bit of breathing room.”

Willa arches a brow. “Overprotective? We’re trying to watch out for you. You’re still a kid, Y/N.”

“And you aren’t?” Y/N asks pointedly, “I’m just trying to live my life. I’m sure you did the same thing as me when you were my age.”

“You shouldn’t have to do the same things as me, because I’m trying to protect you from all that,” Willa counters, “I want you to have a normal life.”

“If you want me to be normal, you have to stop being such a helicopter parent,” Y/N replies, clearly frustrated. “Just leave me alone.”

Willa isn’t willing to let this go quite so easily. “Not a chance. You’re too young to be doing all this. We’re not done until we can agree on a solution to that.”

Y/N lets out an angry breath. “You really can’t let that go?”

“No, I can’t,” Willa says, “Not until you realize that your bad choices are going to get you killed.”

“At least then I wouldn’t be as ridiculously uptight as you,” Y/N spits out, “you’re a pain to be around. I’m sick of being in this house.”

This time, instead of trying to escape to a different room, Y/N turns around and leaves again. Willa moves to stop her, but it’s too late, her sister’s already hurrying back away into the street. In seconds, she’s turned a corner and is out of sight.

Wyatt appears down the hall. “I heard shouting, what was that about?”

Willa groans. “I’ve messed things up with Y/N. She says we’re too overprotective.”

Wyatt grimaces. “She might be right there. I know you’re just trying to keep her safe, but everyone needs a little bit of space to grow into their own person.”

“I wish you’d told me that a little earlier,” Willa sighs, “she looked mad.”

Willa holds out hope that Y/N will realize she overreacted and come home, but even after night falls, there’s no sign of her younger sister. To make herself feel better, Willa pretends that Y/N’s just spending the night with a friend, but after a few discreet texts to Addison and Bree, she finds out otherwise. Wherever she is, Y/N is with no friends of theirs.

That does it. Willa rallies a few sympathetic werewolves and sets out as a search party. The wolves have always been good hunters, and within the span of about an hour or so of stalking through the woods surrounding Seabrook, Wyatt tugs gently on Willa’s arm.

“Over there,” he whispers.

Willa nods gratefully at him and sets over. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see Wyatt quietly alerting the other werewolves that it’s alright. The others start to leave, but Wyatt lingers in the background just in case.

Y/N is walking through the forest, either heedless of the surrounding darkness or just choosing to ignore it. She doesn’t flinch when Willa calls out her name, just squares her shoulders and keeps walking.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she says.

Willa sighs. “But I want to talk to you. I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, I am. I was wrong to try to be so overprotective. You deserve your space. I was just scared that you’d get hurt.”

Y/N laughs bitterly. “You’re just saying that to try and get me to go back to the house.”

“Partially,” Willa admits, “but also it’s true. If you want to go have a sleepover at a friend’s house to get away from me, fine. I just don’t want you to be mad at me the whole time.”

Y/N stops walking, which Willa takes as a small victory. “Really?” She asks doubtfully.

“Really,” Willa says. “Of course, I’m hoping you will just come home, but if you’re with a friend, that still means someone’s watching out for you. It doesn’t always have to be me.”

An irritated look flashes over Y/N’s face. “See, that’s the same thing. You’re still overprotective.”

“I probably always will be,” Willa confesses, “that’s the problem. Do you remember when everyone was so sick because we couldn’t find the moonstone? I was so terrified of losing you that it never really left me. I know I can be annoying, but it’s all I really know. You keep running off and it freaks me out for the same reason.”

Y/N’s expression softens. “Willa, I had no idea,” she begins.

Willa nods mechanically. “You weren’t supposed to know. Guess I wanted you to keep seeing me as a totally cool older sister. Problem is, that can get pretty frustrating. I know that now.”

Y/N stays silent for what could be just a few minutes, but feels more like an eternity or two. “Alright,” she says at last, “I’ll go back. Just promise that you’ll back off more.”

“I’ll try,” Willa promises. She thinks she might stick by it, too.

Only on securing that compromise does Y/N turn around and begin heading back towards home. Willa falls in behind her, but not before flashing Wyatt a thumbs up so he can go too. It might be crazy hard trying to run this pack, but at least Willa can count on her family. That is everything.

requested by @nev20, hope you enjoy!

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

[joe9cool]

Collide-Justin Herbert-38

This is all fanfiction purposes I do not own or know the Chargers. Thank you! Also TW: A tiny hint of reference to suicide.

"Baby I need to get on the plane." Justin moaned as he broke the kiss for a second before Sara pulled him back to her. They were parked on the upper level parking garage away from everyone. Locked in an intense makeout session for the past ten minutes, Justin still had another twenty minutes before he had to be in the terminal. Sara thought that was more than enough time for some activities.

While Justin was enjoying himself, he also was a little nervous. While he was more understanding of the paps, he didn't want photos of them making out published everywhere for everyone to see. Sara finally pulled away, but to work on his neck and her lips found his spot. "Sara what if we get caught.. oh god" He trailed off in a moan.

She laughed against his neck. "Baby, you really don't think these windows aren't tinted? We could fuck like we did after Bella's party and no one would know."

"Umm well the car would be rocking, someone would call the cops." Sara rolled her eyes. "You fucking nerd." He laughed. "I just don't want our first time to be in a car."

"Damn you're a virgin?" She joked.  He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean." She laughed and kissed him. "I'll miss you." She pouted. "It's only for a week, then you will be back in California and I can hold you hostage in bed." Sara smiled, but Justin knew it wasn't her full smile. "What's wrong?"

"I guess that means I'm going to have to confront Erika?" He nodded. The past week Sara came to terms that Erika was no longer to be trusted, and that she would have to cut her off as a member of her team and a friend. Justin found her crying a couple of times in the night and comforted her. He couldn't imagine the level of betrayal she felt.

"I don't want you to be alone with her okay? I just don't trust her." She nodded. "Bella said the same thing. I'm surprised she hasn't flown out to LA to rip her head off." She laughed, remembering what her friend said when she told her the news.

It had been a hectic week since Mike was released from the hospital. He couldn't do the usual activities just yet, as he was confined to a wheelchair 24/7 the first few days. He could stand and walk around with therapy, but he got winded easily, as the physical therapist told him it would take months to be back to his old self.

In a video meeting with his board and colleagues. Mike announced his retirement, saying this was his second chance to enjoy the rest of his life. The board was in shambles. A few, including Barry, supported the decision. The thirty seven years Mike put into the company were some of the toughest, craziest, hectic known to man but Michael Wozniak was going to leave on a high note.

It seemed he was enjoying his time off. Trying to do as much as he could in his condition. Justin and Sara would go by the house after he had his therapy and spend time with the family. While Mike and Sara's relationship wasn't perfect, it was on the mend. As for Willa she was on bail waiting to go before a judge. The family blocked her number, and thanks to the restraining order that her team put in place she wasn't allowed to go near her.

Unfortunately, The Chargers wanted Justin back in Los Angeles. Contract negotiations and they wanted to be rehab by their trainers. He decided to go back reluctantly, and thanked the Pittsburgh trainers for everything.

Justin was disappointed in going back. He didn't get to spend too much alone time with Sara. Between running back and forth with Mike, everyone attempts to go back to their normal routine, they were constantly on the run.

"Your family is great but wow. You were right, they are tiring." He told her one night as she was getting ready for bed. Snuggling up to him, she hummed. "Yeah, and when my parents were working and all the sports my sisters were in. Constant running around, probably why I spent so much time in my room. It gave me peace and quiet." She laughed and Justin smiled.

Lost in the memories, Justin looked down at his watch. "Okay, I got to go." She nodded and kissed him. "Call me when you land. I love you."

"I love you, tell Charlie I'm sorry for missing his party." Sara would be staying in Pittsburgh for another week for her nephews birthday. He was disappointed that Justin couldn't make it. But he understood from an early age about work. One of the things Mike promised to make up for. "My dad has a lot of lost time to make up for, not just me but for his grandkids." She told Justin.

Once he was situated on the plane, he let his mind wander off. Sara grew up a lot differently than him. While his family was middle class, they were close and would never put work above each other. Her family had tons of money, and to some degree they were close, but they had all been affected by the mistakes Mike and Cathy made. That much was evident when she took him on a tour of the large childhood home she grew up in. She told him how many nights she cried on the balcony when her parents fought, when they missed shows of hers. How guilty she felt crying over this when her classmates like Erika were struggling and she had everything at her fingertips.

"I always felt like a failure. All of the parties we had here, everytime people would look at me and say, "Oh Mike, she's going to be the one living with you til she's 30 with that silly little dream of hers. Where did you go wrong with this one?"

"I can only imagine how hurtful that was hearing that." She looked at him. "If we have children, I will not allow anyone to talk about them like that." He nodded. "I agree."

He couldn't imagine having your own friend's and family as your worst critic. His family had always expressed their support, even when things didn't go their way. His only criticism came from scouting and the NFL analysts. Even then, he had support from friends and family. She told him. "I couldn't love myself out of my world shitting on me."

He fell asleep on the rest of the plane ride. He landed in Los Angeles where Mike was waiting for him. As much as he was happy to be with his girlfriend on the east coast he missed Los Angeles. He was ready to get back to football. Justin kept up with the news and knew the guys they gained and lost. Losing Drew hurt alot, especially to Kansas City but that was business. Getting off the plane, he spotted his wide receiver with a big smile on his face. After doing their bro hug they went to Mike's car making small conversation. It wasn't until they got into Mike's car that the questions came.

"So you and Sara are good?" Justin smiled and nodded. "Aye! That's my boy, finally got your head out of your ass." He slapped his hand on Justin's shoulder as they hit the Los Angeles traffic. Justin didn't miss this. He laughed before turning serious, Mike was one of his best friends on the team and wouldn't tell a soul. "We know who the leak is."

Mike didn't take his eyes off the road. "Oh yeah who?"

"Her best friend slash assistant Erika." Mike did take his eyes off the road for that news. "No way, the redhead that always has a pout on her face?" Justin nodded. "She has access to Sara's phone, and we recognized the pictures of us at a party. Erika took those, and she was tagged at the photographers dinner."

"How's Sara handling it?"

"She's hurt, and feels violated. She doesn't understand why she would do this. It isn't a money issue, she's helped her and her family with money. I just don't understand why she would betray her like that."

"Well they live together? How is that going to work."

Justin shrugged. "She is going to have a legal team draw up a NDA and some other stuff. We can't trust her, she's going to go to the press no matter what we say and try to spin the narrative."

"And how are you dealing with this? I know you are so concerned about your privacy."

"I love Sara, and we are a team. Our relationship isn't a secret, but it's going to be private. We aren't going to be posting each other constantly. Little glimpses and stuff." Justin smiled as he thought about what he and Sara talked about. "Sort of like a Taylor swift and Joe Alwyn thing."

Mike smiled. "I know nothing about that, but I'm glad you figured everything out. You guys work so well together."

There was silence for a bit until Mike spoke again. "I'm sorry, I have to ask, what is going to happen with Taylor? She's been at the stadium asking questions."

Justin rolled his eyes. He went into the whole story about Taylor lying to Sara and the pictures she used. Mike was in awe. "Wow, I knew she was insane, but to go that far."

"I don't even know what I should even say to her. I don't want her around me and especially Sara. But she works for the damn network. I'm going to have to deal with her once camp starts."

Justin pondered over his options and talked with Mike about upcoming workouts and team meetings. The fact that Kansas City won the superbowl just made the team more determined.

Mike and Justin pulled up to his place in Irvine. It was nice to be home, it would be even nicer if his girlfriend agreed to move in with him. She hadn't given him a sure answer yet.

Once Mike left, he walked around imagining all of the feminine touches Sara would bring to his place. He looked over at the cat wheel that Nova got for Christmas. He texted Pat that he was home and was free to fly out with Carly and bring Nova home. He remembered she also got a Bengal cat; he wasn't sure how Nova would react to Eugene. Maybe in some way the name of the cat was a sign that they were always meant to be.

As he walked around the almost empty house, he made a list of food and household essentials he needed. He was almost gone for a month and a half and he needed a lot of things. Also he wanted to prepare for Sara's arrival. As he went through his closet to grab his laundry basket he found the calander she made him. He grabbed and began looking through it. When they broke up he forgot to give it back, and he didn't just want to throw it out in case it landed in the wrong hands. He wasn't that much of an ass.

He found himself getting hard as he flipped through it, and as much as he wanted to give into his desires, he wanted to wait until he had the real thing.

He got out his phone and messaged her

I'm home, found your calendar.

A few seconds later he heard a ding

I'm glad you have it. I have a gyno appointment tomorrow. I'm going on the shot. It takes two weeks

He groaned. I'm about to say fuck it and risk our chances. I'm going to get you pregnant one day.

Lmfaooo. One DAY. Right now it's fuck them kids.

A photo was attached and he opened it expecting a sexy image. But instead it was a selfie with spit up on her shirt.

Wow that killed the mood 😂 let me guess Kenzie with her reflux?

Yes, lucky she's turning one tomorrow and she's cute.

He laughed. He couldn't deny seeing Sara interact with her nieces and nephew's got him in major baby fever. Justin remembered the dream he had very early on in their relationship. He had a wedding band on his finger and she had a band with a swollen belly. Fuck

Patrick texted that he and Carly would be in the next morning with Nova in tow. On that note he decided to call it an early evening and just watch some television. He could do all of his errands tomorrow.

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

Sara wasn't sure whether she wanted to scream or cry.

She was facetiming Erika who didn't have the slightest idea of her best friend's knowledge of her betrayal. The red head updated her on the cat, some dates she went on.

"I'm glad Erika. So I should be in town next week." Her friend's smile dropped. "With Justin?"

"Well he's in Los Angeles already so no." She knew what Erika meant, she didn't want to say it out loud.

"But you guys are back together?"

"We're working on it." Erika rolled her eyes. "Seriously? What about Harry?"

"Ill talk to him when I get back. But I don't think he's too upset. He was making out with Emily Ratajkowski. That's not a guy serious about getting married."

"Well you can't keep him waiting forever." Sara wanted to scream. Why because you need to report back to Jack?

"Look, I'll take care of him when I get back. Just keep doing what you are doing. I'll be back next week."

"Okay. Hey, maybe we can have a spa day. AnnSophie will be back in town, and you have some break before Filming the show starts."

Sara nodded. "Yes I will see if I can fit it in." She hung up on Erika. If she stayed on the phone any longer guaranteed there would be a fight, and she wanted to confront her face to face and not alone.

She tried to push the thoughts out of her head. She had to help Alyssa prepare for Kenzie's small first birthday. This was due to Mike and being careful that he didn't get sick. Same with Charlie, Mike and Sara were only attending the family party, but not for the party with school friends. She did it last year and had to leave, as all of the parents kept coming up to her and asking for autographs and photos.

She was tasked with picking up the cake and some last minute decorations. They had to switch to some healthier options for food since their dad came home. It was funny, of all things he was upset about food was the last thing they thought would cause a problem. Granted, their dad drank and smoked Cigars, but he enjoyed a home cooked meal, and her mother always sent him leftovers which were mostly healthy options.

She ran all of the requested errands and drove back to her sister and Brother in law's Pennsylvania home. Upon arriving she saw Ryan and Michelle, as well as Brent's parents. After giving them greetings Mrs. Smith spoke. "Oh hunny, is it true you have a man in your life? Alyssa told me you are seeing a fine young man."

Sara smiled. "The rumors are true. I'm seeing someone." Mrs. Smith pulled her into a big hug. "Oh that's wonderful! Is he still here?"

"No, he had to go back to Los Angeles."

Pretty soon everyone's attention was on setting the decorations up so Alyssa didn't have to stress herself out the next day. As Sara was working on the Balloon arch Michelle came up to her. "Need help with that?"

Sara laughed. "Please. I should have just paid for someone to set this up." Michelle laughed as she started to help blowing up the pink balloons on the machine. Once she finished five she looked at Sara. "How many do we have to blow up?"

Standing on the ladder working on the arch, she looked around. "Well I did fifteen so far and with your five. It looks like we got about fifty more at least." Michelle groaned and Sara laughed. "Yeah when Justin and I have kids, remind me not to do this, no matter how cute the final product looks."

Michelle paused, thinking of what her sister in law just said. "So you think this is it?"

Sara stopped assorting the colors and looked down at Michelle. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you've never talked about having kids before. You said you wanted them before but you never brought up a name with it." Michelle smiled, and Sara matched it. "Yeah, I know this is crazy, I mean god we haven't even been together for a full year but I'm in love with him. It's just a feeling I've never felt before. The first thing I want to see when I wake up is his face, or hear his voice. When he calls me baby it's just the greatest thing. I know we had a bump but I feel sure that he feels the same way about me."

"I was talking to George and Brent. Brent really likes Justin. He's very protective of you, since he views you as a sister." Sara playfully rolled her eyes. "Well he is the pain in the ass older brother that I never had." Michelle laughed before speaking.

"We are all so happy for you Sara, you deserve it. There is nothing more beautiful than seeing someone unlucky in love finally being loved by the right person." Sara had tears come to her eyes. "Stop, I'm gonna cry." They giggled. "So I have to ask. Is this the end of all of the endings?"

Sara laughed at the Swift song reference. Sara thought about it, but not for long.

"Yes it is."

—----‐—-----------------------------------------------------------

"Taylor!"

The blonde reporter turned around and lit up when she saw the tall quarterback; however she quickly realized that he wasn't approaching her with good intentions. With his long strides he was caught up to her in no time. "We need to talk."

"You can come into my office." They went silently into a private room where she closed the door. Turning towards him, she maintained her smile. "Hi! How is your off-season going?"

He didn't meet her smile. "What did you say to Sara?" He knew, but he wanted to hear it from her mouth, and wanted to see if she'd lie.

Of course she chose the latter. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you ran into her, and I know what you said. Why on earth would you lie about that?"

She turned her back towards him and didn't say anything for several seconds. "Why her?"

He was confused, not expecting that response. "Huh?"

She turned towards him. "The entire time we were together you were so adamant about us being secretive. Hell when someone posted they saw us out you freaked out and didn't talk to me for a week. You stood me up at the airport because it looked too crowded. Now this girl you've been seeing less than a year comes along and you're all about flaunting this relationship? Why wasn't I good enough?"

Justin understood what she meant. He acknowledged that he wasn't the greatest partner, and even though he and Taylor were just hooking up, there were moments where he acted and treated her like shit. He sighed. "I'm sorry, I know that I wasn't the greatest person to you, and for that I regret. But Sara… I'm in love with her, and I should have told you about her when things started to get serious. I'm not flaunting this relationship. I'm just being normal for the first time in my life."

"But again. Why her? She's the total opposite of you. She isn't going to stop her career for you. You guys are going to be Tom and Gisele 2.0"

He shook his head. "I don't need to explain anything to you. What you did was wrong and uncalled for. I don't understand how you thought that was going to benefit you, you do realize me or Sara could have gotten you fired!"

Taylor shook her head. "So that's it? You love her." Justin nodded. Taylor rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Get out."

He walked out the door but he turned to look at her. "I hope that we can be professional."

She waved her hand "yeah, you're not worth my career." He went to leave again.

"Justin?"

"Yes?"

"When you and Sara fail. Don't come looking for me, cause I won't be here." She shut the door

He laughed

—--------------------------------------------------------‐—-----------

"What do you mean it's going to be another week before i see you?" Justin groaned. He was in bed with Nova while on the phone with Sara. Her flight was supposed to arrive the next day. He was looking forward to seeing her after a week but now she had other plans.

She told him that her manager needed her to make a couple of appearances in New York and Vegas. Selena Gomez was hosting a party for some product launch, then Bella was having an event for her drink, then she was filming an episode of hot ones.

Basically it would be another week before he saw her.

"I'm not happy about it either. I promise I'll take the first private flight home once filming has wrapped up, then I have a whole month off before the show starts filming. I'm all yours."

"We are not leaving my bedroom for days when you get here." He heard her giggle at that. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, baby. Trust me I'm going to need it."

It was silent before Justin spoke. "Is Erika going to be with you?"

"No, she's still at my house. I don't trust myself to not say something, and I don't need an issue."

"So you're going to confront her when you get home?"

She nodded, then realized that he couldn't see her over the phone. "Yes. I don't even know what to say to her. I'm getting nervous to the point of a panic attack just thinking about it."

"Hey hey hey." He witnessed her have a panic attack once, and it hurt him to see her go through that. "Listen, we will do this together. I'll be there when you do."

"I needed that."

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sara! I'm so glad you came!" Selena hugged her and greeted Alex. They had just arrived at the hotel only hours after getting off the plane to the big apple. Sara was immediately rushed into hair and makeup. Her team made a tiktok of her getting ready with rare beauty products and of course Sara was dubbed as a 'Queen' for being team Selena and there was excitement that she would be there.

Sara had a fun time, she met and took photos and videos with influencers and fans. It was the end of the night and her social battery was fading. She was having a glass of champagne with a couple of social media stars. To be honest, she didn't really view them as stars. They really didn't have any talents, or really worked hard or faced rejection. They were just pretty and turned on a camera. She felt bad saying that, but so far while some were nice, the ones she was speaking to gave off a bad, fake vibe.

"So Sara, what can you tell us about this upcoming season?" One of the guys said. All eyes turned to her, eager to see if she would reveal any spoilers.

She thought about it for a moment, wanting to give fans something, but not trying to reveal too much. Finally she said, with a sly smile on her face "Just expect the unexpected."

They all groaned, knowing that was all they were going to get from the star. The event ended at around midnight, and Sara and Selena went to a really late dinner to catch up on things. They spoke about their relationships and the drama with the Jenners and Kardashians. It was nice catching up with her, but eventually Sara had to leave to catch another flight to Vegas for Bella's party. AnnSophie was going to be there as well as Samira, so at least she wouldn't only know one person.

She was messaging Justin back and forth the next day. She was again back in hair and makeup with her friends before the car came. AnnSophie and Bella were filling her in on the Met Gala. "I wish you were there. It was so much fun." Sara wished that she could have attended the first Met, but her family was more important. "Yes, but there is always next year."

"Don't let Anna hear that. This is a prestigious event. If she heard you say that, you would probably be banned from attending." Sara had to roll her eyes at that. It was funny, when she was younger it was all about the exposure and trying to attend all of these high profile events. Now she didn't care, she just wanted to act and be left alone.

They took silly photos and tik tok videos before heading down to the car to go to the party. Outside there were paps everywhere. Kendall Jenner was there and Sara rolled her eyes, it was no secret that the tall model would go out of her way to be nasty to her. Kendall even tried to throw shade at Sara on instagram a few years ago. No one pointed it out until Kylie got dragged for the whole Selena fiasco.

"Sara!" She turned towards the voice and her eyebrows lifted in surprise as she saw the woman in question heading towards her. Photographers clicked away as Kendall threw her arms around her. She was sure the photographers caught her being stunned at the action. Surely it was going to be a hot topic the next day. "How are you? It's so nice to see you!"

As much as Sara wanted to say something nasty to Kendall, she didn't want to cause a fight at her best friend's party so she remained neutral. "I'm doing well, how about yourself?"

Kendall smiled. "Oh good, you know I've been preoccupied with Benito." The way she couldn't even pronounce the Spanish name. "Oh it's been so long since we caught up! Next time we are in town, you and Justin should double date with us!"

Sara smiled tightly. "Yeah, we will see. Our schedules are both busy."

"Sara!" She turned her head to see AnnSophie waving her down. "Oh look I got to go. It was nice talking with you!" She quickly walked away and joined her friends, who had a questioning look on their faces. She explained the story and everyone had the same conclusion. She was doing it to save face in the public eye. It was no secret that their reputation  took a nosedive.

Once again, she found herself at a really late dinner with Bella after everything wrapped up. They were filling each other in on everything that happened in each other's lives. When Sara was done telling Bella about everything that happened with Justin she saw a smile on her friends face.

"Sara, I'm so happy for you. I'll admit that I had a lot of doubts about Justin. But he really grew up, and he did grow on me. He's not a stone cold Herman munster like I originally said." Sara snorted, remembering the first time the model gave him the moniker. "He really does love you, and that's all I ask from him, and that he doesn't hurt you again, otherwise I can't promise I wouldn't kick his ass."

Sara laughed. "I'm trying to imagine you taking him." Bella laughed. "Hey we kickbox you know. Also I'd enlist Gigi and AnnSophie."

Sara giggled again. "Yeah he could enlist Bosa and we'd be all fucked" Bella smiled into her drink. "Yeah but that Bosa wants to fight AnnSophie another way if you catch my drift." Sara nearly spit out her drink and the girls both combusted in a fit of giggles. "Hey If I'm ever single can you hook me up with Garoppolo?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Oh please."

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

For some reason, it was like the universe hated Justin and Sara.

By the time she got back to Los Angeles he was gone in Eugene. He had a wedding to attend that he totally forgot about. He felt bad because it was one of his closest friends, after the wedding he had to be on a plane to New Jersey to attend a signing at a sporting expo with Derwin.

She got off the plane, not telling Erika that she was back home, however her best friend and employee wasn't  stupid. The show was starting pre production and there were meetings. Sara spent her time at Justin's house rehearsing her lines, or went over to her co-star's house.

Finally after a week, she knew it was time to face the music. AnnSophie volunteered to be with her. Joey was back in Fort Lauderdale for a few weeks and Lexi's dad finally made time in his "super busy" calendar to spend time with his child.

As they pulled up to her house, AnnSophie could tell Sara was nervous. Her breath and her hands were so shaky she couldn't even drive. Grabbing her hand she rubbed it, hoping to calm her down a little bit. "Hey, it's going to be okay. She will know she is in the wrong." She nodded. "I just wish Justin was here, but I can't avoid her forever.  We've closed the chapters of our pasts. I need to close this one."

They both got out of the car, each grabbing one of Sara's bags. Taking one last deep breath they entered the house. Eugene ran towards them, and despite Sara's hurt and anger she couldn't help but melt at the sight of the gray Bengal.  "Hi baby." She cooed as she picked him up, pecking his face with kisses and she cuddled him. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry mommy had to leave you." She looked around while still carrying the cat. She turned towards the blonde supermodel. "She's not here." She took a deep breath, relieved that she still had some time to prepare a speech.

As she put everything away she messaged her sisters. They knew what was going on, and even unfriended Erika on all the platforms, surprisingly she never mentioned it on the phone.

Once she was done and clothes were in the washer she heard AnnSophie call her name. Walking over to her friend's voice in the kitchen she found AnnSophie starring with her mouth open in shock. Erika's work laptop that Sara bought her was open. That must have meant she ran out for a quick errand or food. She never left it open and unattended.

It happened in slow motion, AnnSophie turned the laptop around to face her. The first thing she saw was a document.

It was a medical document.

It was a record of a hospitalization

Sara's hospitalization in 2011 of her attempt.

A/N: Alright, just a smidge of drama one last time! Getting down to final chapters! Thank you to everyone who messaged me and read and stayed with me

[t1oui]

An official introduction to the Galactica wip

Hey everyone! So I've finally gotten my notebook with all the Galactica character & magic system information in it back, which means I can now make an official intro for this wip! I don't know if I'm going to take down the original post yet, but take the information in there with a grain of salt. Enjoy!

In a nutshell....

Galactica is like my tWoA wip in that it takes place in a universe where humanoids live on more planets than just Earth. In Galactica, this is on a smaller scale (for reference, in tWoA, the beings on planets from many solar systems are focused on), with the focus being only on our solar system (known as the Copernican system). The planets are Venus, Mercury, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, Pluto, and Dea Tacita. (In this universe, the moons of gas giants are inhabited, and there is a ninth planet which is not a gas giant.) Galactica focuses mostly on the lives of the rulers of these planets/the kingdoms on these planets, particularly the lives of rulers on Earth and Tacita.

Characters & their purposes/roles

The characters that are focused on most are Ayden Kalper, Louis Hynes, Zach & Etta Jettlan, and Jayden Morrown, but there are quite a few more supporting characters.

Ayden Kalper is the king of the only kingdom on Earth not part of the Green Ships, an alliance somewhat like the United Nations. He never wanted to rule Archeon, but now that his dad has suddenly disappeared, he's forced to. Louis Hynes is Ayden's best friend and the general of Archeon's army. He's also my first aroace character. Zachary "Zach" Jettlan has only recently been released from juvie after nearly killing a teacher at his old school in an altercation. No one knows much about him other than the fact that he's Etta's older brother. Rosetta "Etta" Jettlan is a timid person that everybody knows, for whatever reason. They aren't mean to her, exactly, but they definitely pushed her around more than they should've - that is, right up until Zach started going to school with them. Jayden Morrown has been the king of Tacita since his parents died in an incident while returning to their home planet when he was 12. Everyone knows him, but they don't know much.

Some side characters include:

Isabella "Izzie" Raith, Etta's best friend Ada Bell, Archeon School of Magic's star student Willow "Willa" Morrown, Jayden's younger sister Cloud Rooney, another one of Etta and Izzie's friends.

There are a lot of characters listed in my character sheet, and while I have already decided to remove some of them from this story (to give them their own story that they fit into better), I honestly can't remember where most of these characters fit in which means they will most likely be abandoned or repurposed later.

A basic guide to the magic system

In Galactica, there are many different magic types, with angels being the default. Here's a list of all the types below:

→ Angels ↪ Angels are the most basic/common magic type in the Galactica universe. Their color is sky blue. ↪ Izzie and Cloud are both angels. → Demons ↪ Demons are no longer really found outside of Archeon, which is made up by a majority demon population. By now, most demons have had kids with non-demons, making other magic types such as fallen angels. Their color is red. ↪ Ayden is a demon. → Fallen angels ↪ Fallen angels are one of the most common magic types, with one angel and one demon parent. They used to not be accepted by society, but now that they're more common this doesn't really happen. Their color is black. ↪ Louis, Jayden, Willa, and Ada are fallen angels. → Shadows/dark angels ↪ Shadows have largely undocumented powers and are considered dangerous and unpredictable. They have one fallen angel parent and one demon or blue angel parent. Their color is maroon. ↪ Etta and Zach are shadows. → Green angels ↪ Green angels are somewhat rare but harmless people who have power over nature &, usually, animals. (As in they can speak to them, not that they can control them.) Their color is green. → Light angels ↪ Light angels, like green angels, are uncommon but harmless. They have power over light. Their color is yellow. → Blue/dark light angels ↪ Blue (or dark) light angels have powers over light you see at night, such as moon and starlight. They also have control over creatures that emit light, such as fireflies. They are close with a society of light creatures known as the Valo. (Valo means light in Finnish.) → Blue angels ↪ Blue angels are similar to fallen angels, though much more rare. They have one angel and one fallen angel parent. ↪ Etta's mom, Gina, is a blue angel.

(A possible) book one synopsis

On planet Earth, two opposing forces have reigned for as long as anyone can remember: one being the Green Ships, an alliance of hundreds of kingdoms notorious for their hatred of anything evil, and two being the "anything evil" found in the small, secluded kingdom of Archeon. 19-year-old Ayden has never hated his home, exactly, but he's never wanted to rule it. But it's been two months since his dad has disappeared without a trace, and Archeon's people are getting restless. Ayden's their only option, no matter how much he wishes he wasn't. Then, in the last place he expects, he finds a friend: Louis Hynes, a student at the local college in the very much Green Ship owned kingdom of Spry. Louis is normal and completely unlike anyone Ayden's met at the same time - and he might just be the answer to Archeon's unbalanced leadership.

Thanks for reading! This wip definitely has a long way to go before it's an actual story, but I think it has potential, especially if I keep working on it in the background. More coming soon :)

Credits: ⋆ sun divider by @firefly-graphics ⋆ stars & dots divider by @cafekitsune

[omaticwriting]

Grand Anomaly: New Beginnings [Chapter 5- the hero and the adventurer]

"So Soleil just let you go?" Daniel asked Nicolas who only nodded as he explained. "yeah after they screamed they just made me shake their hand for a deal, also the colored outline we have is called intuitional magic" as he explained how he wondered how he could have known this despite being clueless, perhaps Soleil provided his dark knowledge of some sort during their deal.

Despite everyone's initial confusion as to how Nicolas knew, along with the lavender outline and glow of his eyes, they were at least a little glad to have some information for it, Daniel especially as he wrote it all down in his book.

"So how much further to your friend orbos?" Selene asked, knowing full well they've been walking for a long while now and it was somewhat tiring. "just a bit further" was his only answer before an ear-piercing scream came in their direction.

A beast with thick brown fur and claw-like appendages roared as the earth gave way with every movement as it clawed its way to the group, causing fear amongst the group as it roared with defiance albeit showing signs of fear as if it was hunted and with the slash markings and blood it may seem so before laying in front of them now at the mercy of what could be threats to its livelihood. If it had any left that is.

Willa looked at the beast with a curious albeit worried look, slowly approaching it but ready to run if she needed to, albeit with caution if it's dangerous she wasn't as risk-taking as Daniel usually is who was keeping himself between the beast and his friends. A faint glowing gray Outline covers him much like his eye color which can be said with Nicolas and Selene who both have a blue and lavender respectively, outlining them as small stones formed around all of them, ready to form a barrier for everyone if need be and yet Daniel's curiosity rose as he slowly took notes of the beast as Willa approached.

"Willa be careful" Selene warned her friend as she steadily approached the beast in front of them which earned a glare from orbos who has kept quiet, if he learned anything from his time with the kids, it's to never judge books by their cover as he hovered and waited for Willa to make her actions.

Willa looks at the creature now up close. Its brown fur made way for wounds and blood on its sides, possibly from a blade and a lot of it, seeing the deep gashes and the sheer amount of injuries it took.

The beast eyes at Willa, its will now be shattered by the injuries it took as it expected her to finish them, only for a hand to be gently placed on its head which shocked both parties, the only exception being Willa.

"Nicolas, need your intuition magic or whatever here" she called out, causing the young teen to flinch as to why him before realizing one of the intuitional magic he has is healing.

Apart from him wanting to protest, due to not knowing what the beast is capable of and yet, he knew everything just by looking at it. Perhaps Soleil has more plans with him, especially with how their "gift" is working, but no need to dwell on it now as he made his way to the beast in question and placed his hand on its fur.

Both he and the beast glowed with a lavender outline as the wounds this beast gave healed. Or so it seemed, as while in the past when he healed Daniels's arm is gently closed whereas now the flesh and skin aggressively healed as both bits, mend and melt to close the injuries but whatever the case it healed, which caused some confusion on the beast's end, but it would not be long as a stray shot rang and missed its mark by an inch, causing fear for both parties the beast, forced to flee and leaving the group as an another being emerged from the foliage.

They were a teen much like Nicolas albeit older, her hair was a chestnut brown, black which sprouted at the roots and had clothing typical of adventures in fantasy books albeit with more care in mind, with golden eyes that could reflect even sunlight eyed at the group than to the beast with what appeared to be a musket that seemed to lack a muzzle and replaced with some sort of stone dodecahedron as it crackled to life with magic, runes on the side of the gun and on the stone glowed a very eerie color as she spoke sternly. No hint of hesitation was noticed. 

"Move and I'll shoot" she glanced at the group, clearly not from this world, it sickened her more noticing the igazi child and the now-fled beast due to her missed shot, after all, they were evil blights on the world. But what surprised her was the Mekani-sprite that accompanied this strange group. She knew it was him. It had to be "orbos?" she called out which caught the mekinite's attention as he boned his eye up and down before what the group had to guess was a smile as he flew to meet their face.

"Amisia I'm glad to see you again!" He exclaimed, causing her expression to soften much like her demeanor "good to see you too orbos, I thought I won't see you after this whole mess" she replied casually but there was relief in her voice as she slung her rifle to her side. Orbos felt relief for a moment but noticed she was alone which caused some concerns to rise as he asked "where's Kolb?" Amisia quickly replied at the cost of her wavering joy which gave way to worry "after we failed in stopping our world from using, Kolb took the nearest boat to sizbalenza, hope they're okay"

"Uhh excuse me, sorry to be a bit of a rube here but, what are you talking about!" Willayelled out, her frustration and confusion clearly showing only for a blade to be pointed at her face with swift intent, making her flinch as Amisia spoke. Malicious in every word she spoke "shut it, outsider, you don't belong here much like your disgusting group...more so her" she gestured to Eliana who hid behind Daniel and only looked on with disgust as if she was a stain to be purged.

Daniel simply stared in fear but more so for his friends and himself as Amisia's sword moved ever closer to Willa's neck. In a panic, Orbos spoke out in hopes it can diffuse the situation and hopefully end this without a sign of blood. 

"Amisia, Stop!" Amisia stopped a mere inch before looking at orbos, waiting to explain what he has to say before she continues "they are my friends, they helped me find you so it would be nice if you...Eh put your sword down and get to know them before...you know...doing anything rash?" Amisia could only glare as orbos gave a nervous look as time nearly stood still, but after what felt like minutes with a scoff Amisia sheathed her blade and began to speak again, albeit in a tense manner as the sun began to set "fine, I'll do it but it's only because I trust you more than them" and with that everyone began to set up camp for the night, but both Amisia and the group looked on one another with tension which orbos knew he had to fix to keep both from shading any blood before sunrise. This is going to be a lot of work. 

Night had come and it was everything orbos had feared. Both Amisia and the group looked on at each other with tense or weary stares, the fire being the only divider aside from him that kept the peace between them.

Nicolas took the unofficial role of watching Amisia while everyone ate, his face remained hidden and yet very observing, and yet Amisia couldn't help but feel some form of malice as if she squints closely at the covered boy was as if the world itself opened its eyes to watch and scrutinize every movement she makes. Oh, how she wanted to slay him and uncover the dark look that he hides, but, she promised Orbos not to kill and she'd abide by it but it did bring comfort to have her blade in full view while she ate.Great way to ward them off if they tried anything. The green moon symbol child especially, her movements seemed feral much like her personality, too unpredictable for her liking, at least the blue hooded child kept her at a metaphorical leash's end if only said leash was physical and somewhat by far the most knowledgeable. Good to know that some of the outsiders she has to put up with were smart enough to know their place.

What did bug her was the child with the mountain symbol on his shirt, his actions showed nothing but kindness and it truly shined through his small hound and the igazi, treating the cursed blotch as if it were his own blood, foolish? Though this did strike her with interest how she can talk with him is for another time, now it was time to feast and to sharpen, albeit baffled by them.

Despite the tenseness that filled the camp, everything went on to a somewhat peaceful conclusion, albeit Nicolas and Amisia showed a mutual glare that felt as if a fight could start at the spur of the moment, but that was still a success in the mekani-sprite's eye as everyone ate and were tired, however, his fears would soon manifest the momentAmisia opened her mouth.

"You. Black symbol child." She spoke with a quick and fluid movement as Daniel looked at her surprised, pointing to himself before seeing her nod while the others somewhat tensed. Nobody wanted to deal with her aside from Orbos so it did make sense for most of the group to show a glance of pity and one of malice towards her by the covered boy especially, albeit being subtle about not causing more of a fuss than already.

And at that moment everyone saw the exact seconds that Orbos's hope die as Amisia continued. Her tone was as judgmental as her expression as she eyed him up and down. "why? Why do you care for that...thing as if it were another person?" She gestures towards Eliana, Daniel takes a moment to process her words, his friends staying close while Orbos looks on with worry. Oh, how if he had sweat glands they would be making a puddle by now.

And yet Daniel remained in thought, trying to come up with an answer before shrugging"I just think it's only fair people should be treated like people." Amisia could only process the sheer naivety he has, and yet she couldn't help but commemorate it, though she might as well give him the harsh truths of the world for his sake, even if he's an outsider.

"Child, that thing is known to suck the blood of the innocent. It's better that you push her to the fire now than to let it spread much like it's cursed ilk" she told him "I know, she drank my blood while she was feral, but I'm still going to treat her like a person even if she drinks blood" he retorted. Continuing as Amisia listened, now interested in what he had to say "Eliana and her kind may need blood, but, I understand enough to know it's for their survival, plus animal blood is also enough and much like her people they have dreams, hopes and many other things '' he retorted before continuing "I don't know much about your world but, what orbos told me, there are more than humans in your world and you treat them and orbos like a people, and you still treat others like they're a pest. Don't you think that's....wrong?"

Amisia was speechless, her face was a mix of impressed and annoyed but slowly she recomposed and spoke: "alright, I'll admit I can't fully argue with it but it still won't change me, child, however, it's hard to come by your kind of ilk."

"My kind of ilk?" He asked, as Amisia quickly replied to his question "willing to understand the world around them, my world doesn't have many of those or At least any that made themselves known until recently" she looked at the fire, her face straightened as she continued. Facing Daniel once more "most people nowadays in my world usually kill first, ask later out of the simplest rumor. So count the lucky stars that Orbos stopped me from simply ending you and your group outright" she sighed as she finished"at least I got to know what kind of ilk you are, and I have a feeling your friends are similar, albeit in their own way."

Before Daniel could speak any further, Orbos spoke out, clearly frantic and not wanting to progress this any further than needed.

"Okay, I believe we should go to bed as it is late and your friends have gone to bed"much to both's surprise everyone did go back to bed, and rightfully so, he didn't want this to continue as some form of paranoia plagued his robotic mind to an extent.

 Amisia shifted around, looking at her surroundings before letting out a sigh of relief "I suppose you're right, good night" she spoke without another word as she marched to her tent at the far side of the fire, just out of the light.

Daniel looked on, puzzled as he looked at Orbos "hey Orbos, was your friend always like this?" He asked, clearly bothered by it as the small bot glanced at him as he continued "you know, always weary of things she never understands to the point of actually fighting?" "Sadly yes, it's somewhat how it usually is in istaresta" he replied, weariness but brightening as he continues "though that is starting to change as we were beginning an industrial revolution, though I think it will be a lot faster given our worlds have fused, gods' and powers of dark and light forbid we all kill each other before things get better."

Daniel looked on with a straight face as he listened "I think we'll be okay" he beamed, hope filling every word he spoke as he smiled. stars. Was it contagious as orbos brightened a little "I suppose so" he humored and hummed at the hopeful thought before announcing "we should sleep, we all have somewhere to be, after all" he said as both went to their respective tents and gave each other a good night they drifted to sleep, the uncertainties of the future washed away like waves on a beach.

... 

The morning had come at last. Both Amisia and orbos Stood apart away from the group "thank you for helping me, and sorry for what happened earlier" he said hoping they'd look past it though their looks didn't seem all that so, which was understandable but before they went their separate ways Daniel spoke up a smile filled his face "feel free to hang out with us anytime Orbos!" Orboscouldn't help but smile at the gesture along with a smug smirk from Amisia who was somewhat mused; she had a feeling it won't be the last they'll ever meet. Though she knew, Orbos looked back at them and sighed "I know you want to help them. Go for it"Amisia said. as orbos looked at her with a quiet surprise but felt joy as they flew off.

"Hey Daniel, what did you say to Amisia, she seemed a lot calmer than before?" Selenemused as Daniel looked at her "we just talked, and I just asked why she was mean to us." He answered, Nicolas, giving a glance in his direction. Not fully commenting as he hummed in agreement before eyeing Alpine and Eliana who was much calmer than she was before seeing Amisia which he found understandable.

"At Least that psycho's out of our hair" Willa commented which everyone agreed as they continued their way onward, unsure of where to go, but, heard a distant voice approach them "hey is that...'' Willa said looking back, squinting at the fast-moving silhouette approaching them from a distance.

"WAIT!" Orbos cried out, flying as quickly as his wings could take him before coming to a stop as they looked at the group much to their surprise.

 "Orbos? I thought you wanted to go with amisia?" Nicolas mused and though covered orbos could tell his brow was life's as the rest of his face laid expressionless.

 "I wanted to give you all a parting gift before we go our separate ways'' Each of the groups grew curious as to what it is before Orbos continued "Daniel, could you open your book please?" Daniel nodded as he pulled out his book from his satchel and opened it. Soon enough a light emitted by orbos shined down to an empty page as symbols appeared, each in order of columns. 

"This is the istarestean alphabet, in order of your world's alphabet, be sure to put it to good use," he told before flying off as the group waved goodbye and went on their way.

[juliandev0rak]

Friends 🐑 🧶

Six: Friends – who was their best friend when they were younger? Did they have a friend group? Were their siblings their friends?

echoes of the past event

@arcana-echoes​

Willa Clary, she/ her

Armara, a village in the south

18 years before the events of The Arcana, Willa is 9

Words: 1740

Warnings: none

It’s been a dreary morning, the rain nearly constant as it often is this time of year. Willa’s been stuck inside all day, helping her mother wind yarn into skeins. The wool is itchy against her hands and Willa is bored but it’s not like there’s much else to do on a day like this in Armara. 

Willa decides to play around with her magic while she works, she knows she’s not supposed to but it’s too fun to resist. With a flick of her finger the entire pile of yarn by her feet winds into a neat ball. She smiles at her work proudly but her mother’s disapproving look has her back to winding the next skein by hand.

When she’d first started showing signs of magical abilities her parents had been  frightened. As far as they know there isn’t anyone in the family who can do magic, and it was quite the surprise. In their village, magic is regarded as dangerous and her parents had told her to hide her powers. The people who live in Armara are superstitious, and though they used to believe in magic it had been many years since a magician had lived there and feelings had changed.

Her brothers are upstairs in the loft playing, and she tries not to feel bitter that she’s doing chores while they play. When the yarn is done her mother moves to the kitchen and Willa is put to work canning preserves and salted fish to put aside for the winter. The work never stops, her mother likes to be prepared and as the only daughter it’s up to Willa to help.

The rain finally stops around midday and her brothers immediately run outside to enjoy the sun, joining the growing group of neighbor children in the village square. Willa looks out the window somewhat wistfully, she knows there’s too much work to do for her to be able to join them. 

Her mother notices her at the window and says “Well go on then, go play.” Willa turns around in surprise and stares at her mother.

“Really?” She says, not waiting for an answer, she’s already halfway out the door. She runs out to join the rest of the kids. They’re busy playing a game with a ball, two teams each trying to kick the ball through their team’s goal post.  She watches her brothers and a dozen other children play, and no one asks her to join. Willa decides she isn’t one for games like this anyways so she takes a seat on the still damp ground, pulling at the daisies that grow in the grass. 

Her hands start to weave the stems into a chain and she busies herself with the process, trying to ignore the laughter and loud chatter from the other children. She’s always enjoyed alone time, but she has to admit it would be nice to feel included. Any chance of that had been quelled when word of her magical abilities got around. Parents had forbidden their children from playing with her, and even her brothers had been on thin ice until it was deemed safe enough to play with the non-magical Clary children. 

Armara is small and tightly knit, only around six dozen families live there. One of the neighbors had learned of her magic and soon enough the whole village knew that Willa was a “witch”. When she first heard the name, Willa was excited, being a witch sounded like great fun, but she soon learned that they meant it only in cruelty. 

The few village girls she’d been close to had swiftly stopped asking her to play, and her mother had been more than happy to keep Willa inside to help with the work. Her only friends these days are the sheep and the other animals she finds in the forest. Deciding she’s had enough of watching the other children play, Willa decides to go in search of these friends.

Armara is situated on a cliffside above the sea and most people are shepherds or fishermen. Willa’s family are the former, their small flock of sheep graze in the meadow behind her house. Behind the meadow lies the forest, a cheery place that seems diffused with light even on gloomy days. Amara is a safe place to grow up but it’s boring and, Willa thinks, stifling. 

The only place she’s able to practice her magic is in the forest, with the odd wandering sheep for company. She’s always understood how animals feel better than most, but in the last few months she’s been able to actually understand them. At first she thought she might be making it up, but when the animals started replying to her she knew it was just another magical ability, another thing she’d have to hide. 

“Niamh?” She calls as she approaches the meadow, searching through the grazing sheep to find her favorite. Her parents think she’s silly for naming the sheep, but the sheep seem to like having names. None of the animals she’s talked to seem particularly bothered that she can understand them, and most of the time they don’t respond even though Willa knows they can hear her. She doesn’t hear full words, more vague ideas and emotions. 

“Friend!” Willa hears as the sheep who most frequently talks to her makes her way through the crowd of other sheep. Willa immediately leans down to pet her, Niamh affectionately nuzzles back.

“I know all of you hate the rain, I’m glad it’s stopped for a bit!” Willa smiles, thinking of all the sheeps’ complaints she’d been privy to over the last few weeks. She continues to babble on about her day, and though Niamh doesn’t say anything back she can feel her understanding and contentment. Some might think it rather sad that Willa’s only friend is an old sheep, but Willa couldn’t ask for better company, even if she is mostly silent.

After catching Niamh up on the village gossip and promising to come back tomorrow she heads into the forest to practice a few spells she’s been working on. Willa’s magic is intuitive, she can make things happen but she can’t always replicate the action, she’s been dying for a sunny day to practice outside.

A few steps into the forest she grins and walks over to a pile of leaves, time to practice. She’s been trying to levitate objects whenever she has the chance, but anything heavier than a leaf just wobbles and stays put. She sits down on the ground again, suddenly remembering how muddy it is and that her mother won’t be happy that she’s stained her dress. But the damage is already done, she turns to her magic instead.

She stares intently at the pile of leaves, willing any of the leaves to move. Just when she thinks she might be almost there a voice behind her startles her. 

“What are you doing?” 

Willa turns around to see Isolde, a shy girl about her age who she hasn’t talked to much before. Isolde lives alone with her grandfather down by the cliffs on the outskirts of the village. They usually keep to themselves. The other children in the village pay no attention to her because she isn’t often around, and she doesn’t talk much when she is. 

“Oh, hello Isolde, you startled me!” Willa says, hoping Isolde will drop her question.

“Are you doing magic?” Isolde asks, tilting her head to the side. She has dark hair and dark eyes, an uncommon trait in Armara where most people are blond or red haired, it’s another reason she’s treated as a bit of an anomaly. Not quite an outcast like Willa, but someone different than the rest. 

“Uh.. yes?” Willa responds, unsure how the girl will react. 

“Well let’s see it then.” Isolde says, sitting down next to her. Willa takes a deep breath, she’s even less confident with an audience now, and wills her magic to her hands. She can feel the rush of tingling warmth that always accompanies her magic and tries to focus on just one leaf. 

Her eyes lock on the bright red leaf and she exhales and imagines it lifting into the air. To her delight, the leaf does just that. She turns to grin at Isolde, forgetting that she’s supposed to be afraid that someone just watched her perform magic. Isolde is smiling back just as big though. Something in Willa sighs in relief, finally someone who isn’t afraid of her.

“Can you do it again?” Isolde asks, so Willa does. 

From that day on the two of them are inseparable. After her daily chores Willa practically runs to Isolde’s house on the cliffs. She finds that Isolde’s grandfather is much kinder than he seems from the times she’s seen him in the market. He makes the girls cups of cocoa and tells them stories of his hometown in the north, regaling them with the time he saw a kraken or when he accidentally insulted a pirate and narrowly escaped with his life. 

The girls play together as children do, creating stories of their own and making daisy chains for the sheep. Isolde doesn’t think that Willa’s magic is weird or scary and Willa thinks that Isolde is an excellent listener, even if she doesn’t talk much. She even tries to teach Isolde a bit of magic, Isolde doesn’t seem to have much talent for it but she’s always excited to try.

Willa’s mother is relieved to see her daughter finally coming out of her shell and talking to people instead of sheep. For the winter solstice she even knits Isolde and WIlla matching sweaters with their initials on it. The girls wear them nearly every day when they meet up to play. The spot they meet at in the forest becomes their clubhouse, they use tree branches to make a fort and it’s their castle, their pirate ship, their playground. 

Best of all, Isolde and Niamh get along and it even seems like Isolde can understand the sheep sometimes. Willa counts herself the luckiest girl in Armara to have magic and two friends to call her own. As the seasons change and the rain turns to deep snow Willa still feels warmer inside than she has in a long time, the stares and whispers don’t matter to her as much when she knows that someone is finally on her side.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

New Student // Willa Lykensen

request: could you do Willa from Zombies x female reader (if you’re not comfortable then gn reader), a really cute fic where Willa has a crush for the first time and she’s quite nervous around the reader which is out of character for her, but Addison and Wynter assure her that it’s okay and Willa flirts with reader?

prompts: none!

summary: you’ve just moved to seabrook, and everything has been going great! except for the fact that one of your new “friends” is pretty much ignoring you. what happens when the two of you are tricked into spending time together?

warnings: god used as a curse word?, also a kinda abrupt ending :/

word count: 2k

a/n: gn!reader

Your hands clenched tightly against the straps of your backpack as you looked up at the building in front of you. Seabrook High. It was yet another first day of school for you. After having spent the majority of your life moving from city to city, your parents decided they wanted to move back to their hometown. And while you were excited at first due to the chance of finally having a somewhat normal highschool experience, Seabrook wasn’t anything like you thought it would be.

Before even walking into the building, you looked around in shock at everyone walking beside you. And just when you thought you were finally going to have a normal high school experience. But no, you just had to go to a school that had monsters attending.

Now you were never one to judge. You knew how it felt to be hated for reasons you couldn’t control. But just the thought of having to spend the rest of the year sharing classrooms with zombies, werewolves, and aliens made you a bit uneasy.

Your parents assured you they were all very nice and that you had nothing to be afraid of. And while you believed that none of the other students would ever actually harm you, you still couldn’t shake your anxiety.

But nonetheless, you had to walk inside. It wasn’t like you could just turn around and hide in your room for the rest of the year. People would notice. And it was your senior year, so not graduating didn’t seem like a very pleasant idea.

Taking a deep breath, you started walking into the building. The perfect white walls accented with pink and green filled your view as you took in your new surroundings. A group of cheerleaders walked by, looking as peppy as ever. You could easily tell apart the cliques based on the outfits alone. And looking down at yourself, you realized you didn’t really fit into any of them.

The humans wore pink and blue, looking perfectly well put together. Cheerleaders were all wearing their bright pink and green uniforms. The zombies wore clothes that looked like they were handmade, patches of fabric and uneven stitching catching your eye. The aliens stood out too, all shiny and futuristic looking. And even the werewolves had their own look, purple and brown, with faux fur accenting their looks.

Meanwhile you wore an old band tee and ripped jeans. You stuck out like a sore thumb. A few people looked at you weirdly. None of the stares were mean, rather just curious or confused. You didn’t have a clique, or a group of people like you. No one even looked remotely similar. You felt your anxiety beginning to build up again. Maybe you really weren’t going to find any friends. Maybe there was no common ground between you and anyone else in this town.

You carefully squeezed your way through the crowd of teenagers, occasionally glancing down at the paper in your hand that held both your schedule and your locker number. After wandering through the halls aimlessly, you found the locker that would be yours for the rest of the year. You walked up towards it, and entered the combination on your paper, but the lock wouldn’t budge. You tried again and again, but it still wouldn’t open.

You let out a frustrated huff, punching the locker as you did so.

“Need some help with that?”

You turned around to find a girl, with bright blue hair standing behind you. Her hair was a stark contrast to the green and pink dress she wore. She held both her pom poms in one hand, the other was pointing towards the locked behind you.

“Uhm yeah. I’ve been trying the combination but it just won’t open.”

“Mind hold these?” She extended her pom poms out towards you, her smile never fading

You nodded and grabbed them, moving aside so she could try her luck at opening your locker. Somehow she managed to bust it open on the second try.

“One of the numbers in your combo was wrong. It was a 10, not a 1.” She smiled yet again, grabbing her pom poms back from your hands.

“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver.”

“Oh, it was nothing. You’re new here, right? I’m Addison!”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you!”

“You too! I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that she headed off down the hallway, practically bouncing with each step.

~

“Y/n! Over here!”

Your head turned at the call of your name, and you saw Addison waving you over to the table she was sitting out. You instantly felt relief wash over you knowing that you wouldn’t have to deal with finding a place to eat lunch.

You walked over to her table, and took a seat next to her, not wanting to sit next to someone you didn’t know.

“Hi,” you said as you waved nervously at everyone else sitting at the table.

“Everyone, meet y/n! They’re new here! Y/n this is Zed, Bree, Eliza, Bonzo, Willa, Wyatt, and Wynter,” she said as she pointed towards everyone sitting around you.

They all greeted you, and talked excitedly, happy to have met someone new. All of them except for Willa that is. She kept glancing at you and then looking away, not saying anything and instead focusing on the lunch tray in front of her. No one else seemed to notice her silence, or if they did they didn’t say anything about it. Maybe she was just like this. You didn’t want to say anything or draw attention to it, especially since you had just met. But a small part of you felt a bit sad that she had ignored you.

~

“What was all that about Willa?” Wynter asked, walking up beside her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Will replied, attempting to brush off Wynter's comments.

“Don’t think you don’t know what you were doing. You barely said anything at lunch! And you’re always chatty!”

“You know I’m not that friendly around new people.”

“Well yeah, but I mean you didn’t say anything at all! You could barely even look at y/n.”

Willa’s eyes widened and she felt her face grow hot at the mention of you. Wynter almost immediately noticed the change in Willa’s demeanor, and managed to put two and two together.

“Wait a minute. Were you ignoring y/n because they make you nervous?” Wynter asked, a teasing smile growing on her face.

“What? No! I don’t get nervous.”

“You are so lying right now!”

“I am not!”

“Mhm, yeah sure. Whatever you say.”

~

“Addison!” Wynter yelled, speed walking down the hallway to catch up with the cheerleader.

“What?” Addison asked, laughing slightly at the excitement on Wynter’s face.

“I think Willa has a crush on y/n!”

“Wait seriously?” Addison said, a smile beginning to grow on her face.

“Yeah! I mean think about it, why else would Willa just completely ignore them? And whenever I mention their name, Willa gets all squirmy.”

“Oh my gosh! Ok we have to do something!”

“Like what?”

“We have to figure out a way to get them to talk!”

“Ok! But how?”

“I have an idea!” Addison said, smiling even wider.

~

You tapped your fingers on the table in front of you, attempting to find something to keep you stimulated while you sat in wait. Earlier that day Addison had asked you to meet up with her and some of her friends at the library to study for the biology test coming up at the end of the week. Of course you had accepted, both wanting to spend time with your new friends and desperately wanting to not fail your first test at a new school.

She said she was going to meet you at 3:30, but it was now 3:45 and Addison wasn’t anywhere in sight. None of them were. You were beginning to think maybe you had gotten the time wrong, or maybe everyone else was at some other library even though you were pretty sure this was the only library in Seabrook.

Another ten minutes passed, and you were about to leave when your phone buzzed. You picked it up to see a text from Addison.

Cheer practice is running really late today, I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to make it :(

Hope the study group goes well!

Well that explains where Addison was. But what about everyone else? You waited another five minutes, deciding to stick it out a little longer, just in case they were all running late. When no one else showed up, you decided to head home. Maybe you really were at the wrong place.

Just as you began putting your books back into your bag, someone walked over to the table you were sitting at, placing their bag down beside them. You looked up to see Willa standing in front of you, her signature scowl present on her face. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of her. Even if she always seemed grumpy, you still found her absolutely breathtaking.

“Hey Willa. You here for the study group?” you asked, not quite brave enough to meet her eyes.

“Yeah. Where’s everyone else?” Her voice was so monotone that you couldn’t tell if she was angry or not.

“I don’t think they’re coming. I’ve been here for over half an hour, and you’re the first person to show up.”

Willa paused, something that looked like confusion flashing across her face, before returning to her normal, expressionless self.

“Addison told me to get here at four.”

“That’s weird, she told me 3:30.”

Willa’s eyes widened, a look of realization followed by annoyance. She groaned, burying her face into her hands.

“Uhm, you ok?” you asked, confused by her reaction.

“Addison did this on purpose. She wanted us to be alone together. Wynter must’ve told her.”

“Told her what?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Willa froze. An unreadable expression crossed her face, and you felt nerves building up inside of you, panicking that you had said something wrong.

After almost a minute passed, you tried to ease the ever building tension.

“Did I say something wrong?” you said softly, not wanting to anger Willa any more.

But to your surprise, when she looked up at you her expression softened.

“No. No, you didn’t say anything wrong. Sorry about that. It’s kinda my fault that this happened. You see- god this is so awkward,” she trailed off, bringing her hands up to her face again.

You reached over and gently pulled them away, smiling when your eyes met once more.

“You can tell me if you want. I won’t judge if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just- I like you. Like really like you. And Wynter figured that out. So she probably told Addison who set up this whole fake study group plan to get me to actually talk to you instead of just ignoring you.”

You felt a million butterflies beginning to flow through you as your face lit up at Willa’s confession. Even though you had only known her a few days, you felt this pull towards her. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And to know that she felt the same way! It was indescribable. You felt like you were floating.

“I really like you too Willa.”

For the first time ever, you saw Willa smile. You could feel your heart racing as you interlocked her hands with yours. Her touch was electric. Everything felt magical. So what if she was a werewolf and you were a human. None of that mattered. Especially not in Seabrook. This was the most freeing town you’ve ever lived in. And you had a really strong feeling that you were going to love it here.

taglist: @rottenstyx

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 40. i believe you.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

“Alright Cap, as much as I’d love to stay up longer and keep talking… I’m pretty beat,” Bruce admits from across the table. Glancing down at my watch, I see that it’s nearing 11:30pm. Willa was put to bed a while ago; after she went down I decided to venture back out into the rest of the group. The overall mood throughout the evening has been positive. More than anything, it just feels good to be back with all of my friends. Tony and I haven’t shared a single word, but for now, I’m okay with that. Being the first night back, he probably figured both Bucky and I would want some space. I still don’t know how I’m going to approach him about what happened to Willa at the airport. Something needs to be done, of course; I’m just not sure what yet.

For about a half-hour or so now, it’s just been the doctor and I, as everyone else has retired to bed. Our conversation has mostly been about Willa. Bruce was able to pop in before I put her to bed to check over her. In talking with him, he’s gone over some options we have in regards to treating her burns. He said that she got very lucky, and that he was fairly sure she had a good chance at a full recovery. This news has been a huge relief. Really, the whole conversation has meant a lot to me. It’s clear that he’s been worried about Willa ever since we left, and now that we’re back, I’m glad that I can place so much trust in the man in charge of her medical care.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late, huh?” I nod understandingly. Bruce rises from his chair and smiles at me, his eyes softening as they meet mine.

“We’re glad to have you back, Cap. You and the little one were greatly missed,” he speaks genuinely.

“Thank you, Bruce. It’s great to be back,” I say, returning the smile. He nods at me, then turns and heads for the hallway, leaving me alone in the large open living space.

Taking a moment to close my eyes, I draw in a long breath through my nose, allowing my muscles to relax. It’s been quite a long day. I can’t wait to climb into my own bed and get some much-needed sleep. But before I can do that, there’s still one more thing I need to take care of…

Opening my eyes again, I stand, pushing my chair under the table. I make my way over to the kitchen and pull out a pot, filling it with water in the sink. Setting it down on the stove, I turn the burner on medium, watching as tiny bubbles begin to form at the bottom of the metal pot. Going into the spices cabinet, I rummage around until I find the small green tin I’m looking for, all the way at the back. Carefully, I open up the old rusted box and pull out a packet. Lavender. I remember on Wanda’s first night at the tower, she asked for a cup of lavender tea. “It helps when I’m anxious,” she had told us. Ever since, I’ve made sure to keep a fresh stock on hand.

Pulling out a second packet for myself, I close and return the tin to the cabinet. When I come back to the pot, the water’s boiling steadily, and I flick off the burner, grabbing two maroon mugs and pouring them each full with the water. Tearing open the paper envelopes, I drop a pouch in each mug, the strings dangling over the sides delicately. With a mug in each hand, I return to the table, setting one down at the head seat and one at the chair beside it. Taking a moment, I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I just hope she’ll open up to me. When she snapped out of her panicked state earlier, she was trying so hard to act like she was fine. But it’s painfully obvious that she’s not. And I don’t know how to help her if I don’t know what’s wrong.

Taking another deep breath, I make my way over to the hallway, walking quietly across the wooden floor until I reach the teen’s door. A faint glow shines out from underneath it, telling me that her lamp is still on. Knocking lightly against the wood a few times, I call in softly, “Wanda? It’s Steve. You still up?”

Soft shuffling can be heard from behind the door; soon, it opens in front of me to reveal the teen. From the looks of it, she’s changed since I saw her earlier. She’s pulled her hair up into a messy bun and wrapped herself up in a white blanket. With the hallway lights now hitting her face, I can really see how sick she’s truly become. She’s much skinnier than she was the last time I saw her, and the bags under her eyes are deep and dark. the girl glances up at me, and I try to keep my heartbreak from seeping onto my face.

“Hey kiddo,” I breathe, momentarily at a loss for words. Up until today, I’ve always seen Wanda as just one of us adults. Of course I’ve known that she’s a teenager, but she’s just always held herself to such a high standard of presentation that it’s been hard to tell her apart from the others. Peter’s obviously the baby of the team, and I honestly would usually forget that he and Wanda were similar in age. But now, looking at the broken girl in front of me, it’s really sinking in how young she is, and maybe how wrong it’s been of me to treat her like something she’s not. “I made us some tea,” I say finally. “Will you come sit with me?” A look of great hesitancy flashes in her eyes. “I just wanna talk.”

“Nothing to talk about,” she mumbles quietly.

I raise my eyebrows gently at her, trying to hold onto her gaze. I know that’s not true, I want to say, but I don’t want to push her into anything, especially not right here in the hallway. “It’s lavender tea. Please? I’ve missed you,” I try. Wanda sighs, her eyes dropping to the floor.

“Fine,” she gives in. Smiling at her gratefully, I lead the way back through the hallway and out into the common space.

The girl follows slowly behind me, her feet dragging painfully beneath her. A warm, rich lavender scent hits us as we enter the room, and she looks up for a moment, a softness forming on her face. Walking her over to the table, I pull out the chair at the head for her. Carefully and slowly, she lowers herself down. I take a seat next to her, wrapping a hand around my mug.

The teen peers down at her own and brings her shaking hands up to clasp it on both sides. The mug rattles slightly against the table from her quivering, and I’m concerned to find that tears have built up in her eyes. “Wanda,” I begin sadly. “Hey-”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, bringing a shaking hand up and wiping at her eyes harshly. “Thank you, Steve. You- you didn’t have to do this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I murmur softly, “and of course; I just hope it helps, even a little.” Wanda raises the mug to her lips and takes a swallow, her tears spilling over and running down her cheeks as she blinks. Setting her mug down, she dabs at her face with the blanket. Her eyes stay low, unable to face me. “Wanda,” I say again, wrapped up in so much sadness and worry for the poor girl. “Can you look at me?”

“I’m sorry,” she replies again, shaking her head. “I’m just- I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” I reassure her quickly, “it’s okay to cry. I won’t judge you for that.”

“I’m fine, I-I promise. I-” She chokes on her words, hiccuping as another round of tears hit. “-I-I’m fine, Steve.”

“Wanda,” I breathe, wishing so badly I knew what was troubling the kid. “Please. Tell me what’s going on.” Her head hangs low, her gaze locked on the table beneath her as she continues to cry, not even attempting to wipe away the evidence anymore. Her tears drip down onto the surface, forming a puddle next to her mug. “I promise, no matter what it is, it’s safe to tell me. I just wanna help you, kiddo.”

“D-don’t call me that,” she snaps coldly, the edge to her voice taking me aback. “Please,” she continues after a moment of silence, softer this time, “just don’t. I-I’m not a kid. Not yours, or anyone else’s,” she says coldly, her voice laced with a thick venom of hurt. “I’m not a child. I need to stop acting like one.”

“No. Wanda, stop,” I beg, hating how hard she is on herself. “You’re still a kid, to me and to everyone else. I know we don’t act like it, and we should. I’m sorry, Wanda. We put way too much pressure on you. You have an old soul, and wisdom well beyond your years. But in the end, you’re still a kid. And we don’t take care of you like we should.”

“I don’t need taking care of,” the girl shakes her head. “I’m not Willa, or Peter, or- or…”

“But you’re you, Wanda,” I tell her softly, and her eyes finally find their way up to meet with mine. “And you deserve to be cared for too, just like Willa and Peter.” A fresh round of tears build up in her eyes as she keeps her gaze locked on mine, a sense of overwhelming longing appearing on her face. Her bottom lip begins to tremble and I lean in closer to her, asking her gently, “Please, Wanda. Will you let me take care of you?”

She blinks, a stray tear trailing down her cheek and off her chin. What she says next sets off a familiar alarm in my mind, her words dripping with vulnerability. “Y-you won’t believe me.”

“I know you think that, and I don’t know how I could convince you otherwise, but I promise you, Wanda, I promise you: I will believe you. I know you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you’re scared; you’re terrified, and that’s okay. I’m right here for you, I just need you to let me in.”

The teen takes in a shaky breath, closing her eyes for a few seconds as if to collect herself. When she opens them again, she looks back over at me, fear lingering in her gaze. “I-I didn’t want it,” she stammers. “I promise, I-I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding.

“I tried to stop them- I tried, but they h-had my hands wrapped up and- and th-they were stronger than me, and I-I-”

“Woah, okay. Slow down. Deep breaths,” I murmur, not wanting the girl to work herself up into a panic attack. “Who was this? Was it when you were back in captivity?” Wanda nods, her fragile frame shaking against her chair. “Do you know who it was?”

“Th-they came every day to question us… there were three of them. Th-they didn’t give their names.”

“Okay, and you said they had your hands wrapped up? So you couldn’t use your powers?” She nods again in confirmation. “Okay. And they brought you to an interrogation room?” Another nod. “What did they do to you in there?”

Her head falls and she chokes back a sob, her hands squeezing into fists as they rest against the table. “I swear, Steve, I didn’t want it, I-I tried to make them stop, b-begged them to stop,” she stutters. “I screamed ‘no’ over and over… th-they just taped my mouth shut when they got sick of it… or th-they, th-they shoved their…”

My heart drops into the pit of my stomach as my worst fears are confirmed. “Oh my god. Wanda,” I breathe, shaking my head in shock.

“Please,” she whimpers, her eyes still squeezed shut as tears pour down her face. “I-I’ll show you the bruises, I-I’ll let you see the memories, please, Steve, please believe me.” And as I continue to watch my friend sob quietly in her seat, an overwhelming urge washes over me to just hold her, to somehow show her that the information she’s shared is safe with me.

Rising slowly from my seat, I approach the crying girl, reaching out my arms and wrapping them gently around her. At the contact, she only sobs harder, leaning her face against my shoulder. With little difficulty, I lift her up and carry her over to the couch, sitting down and placing her on top of my lap. Even though she’s always been a small girl, the lack of weight I feel on top of me is highly concerning.

I take a soothing hand and begin running it over her hair, talking softly to her as she cries. “I believe you, Wanda. I believe you,” I promise her.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she sobs into my shoulder, and I shush her gently, shaking my head.

“No, no sorry’s,” I coo. “You were so brave to tell me. I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” The girl only clings to me and continues to cry, and I keep my hand running over her hair, rocking her slightly back and forth, hoping the movements won’t be too obvious but still enough to somewhat soothe her.

“D-do you hate me now?” she asks through her tears, her head pulling back to look me in the eyes. My heart breaks all over when I see they’re filled with fear.

“No, of course not. I could never hate you, Wanda. What those men- those monsters- did to you says nothing about you as a person. You’re still good. You’re still so incredibly good, all the way down to your bones.” A slight hint of relief appears on her face, but she remains mostly wary. Brushing back her stray bangs out of her face, I lock eyes with hers. “Look at me, Wanda.” She does, her eyes filling with tears once more. “You are good. Still as good as you’ve ever been. They didn’t take that from you.”

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[hewantshisbrideback]

Jonrya AU: Other Engagements

Summary: The remaining Starks gather some time after the Long Night is won to discuss possible plans for marriages and alliances. With Jon crowned King of the Wall, ruling under Daenerys, High Queen of Westeros, discussion of who will reign by his side as queen over the north is paramount. But Jon is not the only wolf for whom a match must be made.

“Proposals," Rickon groaned and tossed back his head, auburn curls glinting. "My spear is still crusted with blood, and we're already talking of politics?"

"And how long a grace period were you expecting?" Arya snorted, shaking her head. Her dismissive words were born partially of relief. 

She had been speaking with the washer women when Jon found her and pulled her away. He had lead her to a small, stony room, recently rebuilt, containing only two windows, a small side table of wood, and her siblings gathered around in a semi-circle as if for a ritual. 

Her hackles had risen in an instant, but Bran had quickly laid her greatest fears to rest. There was no new tragedy to break their hearts, no new disaster to ravage their land; only the tedious intricacies of a civil society.

“A longer one,” the boy groused. Arya imagined that in his mind, there was likely no tragedy more agonizing than such tedious complexities.

“Oh? Are you inconvenienced?” She tilted her head at him. "Shall we postpone rebuilding the kingdom until the armory's polished nice and new?"

"Can we?" He asked. For a moment it was difficult for her to tell whether he was serious. Maybe the boy didn’t know himself. She cuffed him lightly over the head with a scoff just to be safe, and the grin that broke on his lips was wild.

Still, she had to admit he wasn’t exaggerating. Hardly a moon had past since the last dregs of the Others had been sighted, had been felled, and already there were talks of contracts, engagements, and promises between names she recognized only from war letters and fireside whispers.

During the blight, there had been hurried ceremonies in Great Halls, like that between Princess Val of the Free Folk and the gentle Willas Tyrell. However, there was no need for hushed vows in torch-lit gatherings anymore. What was left of the nobility, and whatever names had been gilded by the Long Winter, would want feasts, balls, parades through the streets.

Arya thought she almost preferred a quiet cloaking in the night. Perhaps that was only natural. After all, she had been present for the wedding of Val and Willas, and no better a pair had been made than they.

She recalled what a sight they’d been: the free woman’s flushed cheeks painted orange with firelight, the lord of the Reach’s nervous brown eyes pinned to his bride’s easy smile, rapt and adoring. They had danced for only a short song, but they had whispered all throughout, and had been whispering to each other ever since whenever she saw them.

The warrior princess and her lord of roses. She could count at least three songs that had been written of them since, the battles the lady fought and the bed of flowers her lord laid down for her, but none of them noted how they made each other laugh, how they sat at each other’s side like old friends.

"Bran is right,” Arya blinked from her thoughts in time to see Sansa grimace and continue, “We may have put aside our differences to face a greater threat, but that won't make for a lasting peace now that the threat is extinguished.”

"Fine," Rickon groused, then pursed his lips, surveying the room sullenly. "So, we're looking to pick up a queen already?"

Arya flinched, eyes snapping to Jon. Perhaps Rickon had been right to moan and whine. She knew her cousin would be married off eventually, now that he'd had a crown foisted onto him, but the idea of helping select his bride settled like shards of ice beneath her ribs. She cursed herself. How selfish she was. Finding a queen for the North was in the best interest of all who inhabited it, and here she was, unable to look at this as of yet faceless woman as anything but another competitor for Jon’s attention.

"A queen for the North?" Sansa contemplated, sounding as equally troubled as Arya felt. Her hopes that Sansa might object in her stead were dashed in an instant. "I suppose it bears discussing--”

"We can't," Arya blurted, panic coursing through her like lightning. Her siblings turned to stare at her. She flushed under their baffled eyes. Swallowing her shame and clearing her throat, she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. "Well, we can't. We can't start making decisions yet. Not on our own. The dragons. They have a stake in this, too."

Jon lingered on her for a moment. She held her breath, brow cocked defiantly, but he made a noise of agreement that showed she need not have worried. "That's true. I'm heir, second to Aegon. Daenerys lets me keep my name, but she will want a say in who shares our blood all the same."

"You're right. It may be one day that the children of your union and hers are married themselves," Bran conceded. “It won't do to decide without her.”

Her sister nodded, expression poised and thoughtful. "That’s true. I suppose there should be some talk between us and her, even Aegon perhaps, before we think about who would be a suitable choice.”

The ice in Arya's chest melted, soft like relief, but colder and heavier, and she made an effort to ignore the stab of resentment at her sister’s next words.

“Jon, you can send her a message, invite her to share her thoughts. Of course, you could always visit her in person as well, if she prefers it.”

Jon's jaw ticked as he nodded, eyes flickering towards Arya, only to snap away as if it burned when she returned his gaze. For a moment, she was petrified. Had he noticed? Had he noticed how upset this talk of queens had made her?

"Alright," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "I'll draft a letter after supper."

His words were disappointing, and his tone was resigned, but it was also familiar. She felt her heart calm. It was no use to fret, over any of it. They were close, and given all that happened, it only made sense for her to be worried. She shouldn’t be afraid for him to see it. 

And at least the decision itself had been delayed some, Arya thought, staring at the ceiling, even if only until Daenerys had enough time to consider the best use of her nephew.

"Great!" Rickon looked around at each of them. "That's that, then, isn't it?” Sansa tutted at him for his impatience, and Bran shook his head, and Rickon threw up his hands. “If we can’t do anything without the queen’s say-so, why stand here brooding over it now? Just wait until she tells you what to do."

“She’s not just going to tell us what to do.” Arya tried not to quibble over semantics with Rickon, as he was still learning the world of kings and courts, but she couldn’t stop herself this time. “Daenerys isn’t a tyrant. No doubt she has prospects in mind, but the choice is ultimately Jon’s.”

“Which is why it’s worth going over the options now,” Sansa added on, “to prepare ourselves for when we do make that decision.”

“And we will,” Bran intercut, "but we can afford to set it aside today. There are still some other arrangements we need to consider.”

“What arrangements?” Jon rumbled, but the stiff set to his jaw and the scowl inching onto his lips made it clear he had some idea and, evidently, disapproved already.

If Bran sensed his ire, he ignored it. “Arrangements for the rest of the Starks."

Arya blinked. She had seen the eyes of visiting nobles and their kin lingering on her brothers and her sister. Even she had received some curious glances. But somehow she’d still managed to overlook the obvious, managed to fool herself into thinking that they had more time.

“Are we really to be parted from each other so soon?” she murmured.

Bran gave her an appreciative glance tinged with grief, and in that glance she felt all those lonely years already spent apart, a splintered pack. After spending this many fighting so hard to reunite, she felt sick imagining any of her family leaving Winterfell. No wonder Jon was on edge.

“I don’t like it,” Rickon grumbled in tandem with her thoughts, and from the looks on everyone else’s faces, they weren't the only ones. 

Sansa had folded in on herself, a brooding edge to her perfect mouth, but with Rickon’s complaint, she moved beside him, tucking his stray red curls behind his ear, a gesture that smacked of their late mother to a degree which hurt.

“Nevertheless,” she muttered after a moment, hand retracting and interlacing with the other, but she could not bring herself to follow through and continue the thought. No one could.

The room was still and heavy with preemptive sorrow, until Arya could bear it no longer. What would they do, sit in silence in this room until the fire dwindled and the sun set? There were meals to be had and men to appease, even just this evening, and waiting wouldn't stall the inevitable. Bran knew that. They all knew that. Sucking in a solemn, silent breath, she asked, “So then which of us is to be married first? And to who?”

Sansa opened her mouth, face wilted with regret, but Bran shook his head dismissing her, and the rest of them mirrored him. There was no need for a defense to be made.

“I’m well aware of the union between you and Sandor Clegane,” Bran assured her. “I would never ask you to break your vows. Aside from this, your first two marriages would have diminished your prospects regardless, one of which still needs to be annulled. Sansa is not an option. I mean you no offense, sister."

Sansa did not look offended. If anything, her expression spoke to some small, secret amusement. Arya was just glad that she wasn't weeping.

“No,” Bran continued, “by now, the attention of our allies has wandered to our other sister, Princess Arya.”

Arya was still beneath her brother’s cool, blue stare. She used to squirm whenever someone referred to her title aloud. By now, she’d nearly grown used to it. After all, she’d answered to far too many ill-fitting names to abandon Arya Stark for her accompanying titles, so she wasn’t left with much choice. 

Now, something in her felt hollow, as though if the wind began to blow, it would whistle through her insides, and she’d be able to hum without using her mouth.

“They intend to offer their sons to Arya." Jon's words were slow and pointed and metered all the way through. “Have they no daughters for you or Rickon?”

“I did not say that they are not looking out for their daughters as well,” Bran reasoned, just as slowly and emphatic as his cousin had. “But of the three of us, Arya is the most attractive option. She cannot give them a royal title, but it’s no secret what she means to you, and the North at large, or that she’s earned the favor of Daenerys. Every wifeless heir on the continent will be interested.”

She must’ve imagined the way his fists clenched. Jon was smart. Men underestimated him, always, but he was smarter than all of them. He should've expected this, even if, somehow, she hadn’t. Of course suitors would seek a princess’s hand. It would not matter to them whether that hand was supple or calloused. Jon knew that. If he didn’t, he should’ve.

If the world had taught her anything, it had taught her that nothing staves the ambition of powerful men. Not even death. Not even ugliness.

“Good.” The word startled her, even more than her sister’s soft hand suddenly pressing to her cheek. But she smiled, albeit with closed lips, as Sansa's furrowed gaze swept over her features like she'd never seen them, like she was trying to absorb all she could for safe keeping. “You’ll have your pick of the lot.”

“Septa Mordane would be quaking to hear such talk of Arya Horseface,” Arya snorted in response, provoking a wry smile from Bran, an expression she sheepishly mirrored.

“Be serious, Arya,” Sansa huffed with a noble frown, hand falling from her face to clutch her wrist in earnest. Arya adjusted her clasp so that they held hands instead, and Sansa's thumb swept the back of her hand in search of comfort. “That silly, old nickname couldn’t be more ill-fitting. You’re quite pretty now.”

Jon made an ill-tempered rumbling noise, and Arya wanted to press him, but refrained in front of the others. He’d been reserved since he was a child, but ever since the Long Night began, he’d been downright secretive. She wouldn’t pry, at least not until she’d gotten him alone.

“It’s true," Rickon cut in, offering a rakish grin. “You should hear the free folk talk of you, sister. They say such things I’ve had to threaten to gut near half of them. They might’ve tried to steal you already, if they weren’t so frightened of Jon. And me, too, of course!”

The others stiffened, but Arya saw his assurance for what it was and spared a moment to thank the old gods for her littlest brother. Though her gratitude didn’t prevent her from rolling her eyes.

“The freefolk have a might different set of standards than the noble lords of Westeros. I can only hope that my reputation is not too far spread. It’s too much harder to see a she-wolf wed than a proper lady,” she drawled, letting go of Sansa as she paused and turned to him with a shrug. “Though I suppose in another world, a marriage with some wily freefolk warrior might've suited, and done well to unite the North.”

Rickon puffed up with pride, though on behalf of whom she had no idea.

“You can’t be serious,” Sansa huffed, then turned an admonishing glare on her brothers. “I know that you have all grown quite fond of the wildlings, having spent so much time with them, but however helpful they’ve been, there is hardly a suitable match for a lady amongst them.”

“A princess, now,” Bran reminded her, and Sansa nodded firmly.

“Suitable how?”  A sneer curved on Rickon's mouth. “I’m not the one who wants to marry her off, but a free man can be good as any lord of Westeros. It wasn’t a wildling who tortured the poor girl in Arya’s stead, was it? And your good Joffrey was a prince. It seems that didn’t stop him from being vile.”

“Rickon!” Arya snapped in warning.

The youngest Stark stared her sister down, burning as remorselessly as the sun, but Sansa’s face was stone and her eyes blue flint.

“That is not what I meant,” she amended calmly. “Of course, the wildlings are no more capable of cruelty than the rest of us. That being said,” her words sharpened to points, like they were her talons, "the lords of Westeros will not stand to see one Stark sister married to a former knight and the other to a wildling. Not when order has just been settled and peace is still in question. If we marry Arya to a wildling, we spit in the faces of our Northern lords and our Southron neighbors both.”

“Aside from that, we don’t need another tie to the free folk,” Bran noted mildly. “With Tormund in our council, Val in the reach, and Jon their chosen king, their loyalty is as guaranteed as we could hope.”

Arya shrugged. “Well, as far as I've heard, if I were to be stolen, I'd hardly be in a position to refuse."

"Perhaps not, but I don't think Jon would be all too pleased to wake up and find you stolen by one of his subjects." Bran was watching Jon as if it were his sole, solemn duty. "I imagine they'd only get so far before he stole you back."

Jon flinched violently and it was a shock, how pale and harrowed he looked. 

"It’s not like anyone could ever steal me away in the first place," Arya reminded him quietly, and when he looked at her, his mouth was pressed into a bitter facsimile of a smile.

“Unfortunately,” Rickon mumbled, and when Sansa and Jon simultaneously turned to glare, he merely scuffed his foot against the ground defiantly. "I mean it. At least then she could've stayed in Winterfell.”

Ridiculous boy. Arya nearly pulled him into a hug, but Bran interrupted her before she could move and his next words kept her still.

"It's not entirely out of the question,” he professed. “It’s possible she’ll find a suitor who will be able to reside in the North."

Arya felt her heart stutter. “You mean, like someone who’s not an heir?”

“No,” Sansa asserted. “If you snub the heir of one house for another’s second son, their entire territory will take it as an offense.”

“No, I was not specifically thinking along those lines,” Bran amended. “There are those with other circumstances under which you may be able to remain.” His eyes slid curiously to one of the windows as he tilted his head. "Ned Dayne, for example. We’ve received word that he intends to act in service to the Queen’s Greater Westerosi Council. You get along well, don't you?"

Jon stepped forward before she could reply, straightened to his full height. His stare was locked on her, stark and unyielding against the pallor of his cheeks, like stones atop snow dunes. "How do you know the Sword of the Morning?"

Arya felt apprehension tighten like a cord around her throat.

This had been the way since they’d reunited.

When Jon introduced her to his allies, she’d beamed like the sun. They had delighted her, despite her jealousy, for all the years she’d spent apart from him, that he’d been with them instead. The jealousy didn’t matter as much as the relief that he’d found friends. She took them as her own. She had been excited for him to do the same with hers. She had been so sure he would, it hadn’t even felt like hope. She’d just known.

But when she brought Jon to Gendry, explained who he’d been to her, he met the smith with suspicious words and a dark glare. When she told him of Hot Pie, or Lommy, or Weasel, or any of the number of sailors and whores from Braavos, he answered only with sarcasm and silence. And the Hound...

Now she’d be the first to point out that Sandor Clegane had not been her friend, or her ally, when they first travelled together. But she would also admit, begrudgingly, that he’d become something close by the time he accompanied her to the Wall with the Brotherhood. Jon had known that. Still, when Sansa brought the Hound into their home as her husband, Arya had heard the King of the Wall bellowing his objections from the other side of Winterfell.

"We travelled together, for a time," she replied carefully. Her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth. "Not very long.”

“When?” he prompted impatiently.

“When I was with the Brotherhood,” she confessed, “back when it was still lead by Beric Dondarrion.”

“You didn’t say anything.” In other circumstances, these words might’ve been a mere observation, or even an expression of concern, but here and now, they were an accusation.

He had mentioned the Sword of the Morning to her before in passing, but by that time, around the time poor Morgan Umber started running away whenever she waved in his direction, she had heard just about everything he had to say about her friends. So she had decided not to mention it. That would be easier.

Except now it looked like she’d been keeping secrets. She cursed the gods and all they stood for. “He wasn't the Sword of the Morning then — just a boy."

"Oh, just a boy," Rickon snorted. "Just another boy, you mean?"

Jon glowered but said nothing.

"That's right," Sansa tittered, with a sudden little smile. "You’ve collected so many. The blacksmith, the baker. Even that boy from House Umber. And now, the heir of Starfall."

"Gendry wouldn’t be a bad match either," Rickon piped up, a grin forming. Like Jon, he had been wary of the smith when Arya first introduced them, but unlike Jon, that had since changed. There was a higher degree of respect between the Free Folk and the Brotherhood than between either of them and any of the other factions. They worked together more easily, and more often, and Rickon was always with Osha and the free folk. Between this growing familiarity and Gendry's formidable reputations both as the Bull of the Brotherhood and the Arm of Stoneheart, a friendship had formed.

Her sister, on the other hand, had been entirely lukewarm when it came to the blacksmith. It was clear she saw him as beneath Arya’s station, but he was useful and she’d kept any complaints to herself, likely as recompense for Arya’s support for her and Sandor. This worked in Gendry’s favor as Sansa hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, only saying, "Who knew your habit of collecting strays would come so in handy?"

Arya's cheeks warmed. "They're not strays."

Rickon shrugged. "Not anymore, I suppose.”

"They're allies!” She insisted. “They're vital allies."

This time, Bran shrugged. "They can be both," he suggested innocently.

Arya growled and whacked his shoulder gently, turning to Jon for even a drop of support, but the only thing she found was frustration marring his brow. They were stalling again, wasting time. Arya sobered. She felt a bit like a child, finding Jon so troubled and having been so oblivious.

"Jon?” she ventured. “What are you thinking?"

He was quiet for a moment and she thought he might scold them, but instead he responded, "It's as Sansa said before. A knight is hardly a suitable match for a princess, let alone a smith."

Arya prickled at his words. True as they may be, in the political sense, the insinuation that her friends were somehow beneath her would never sit well with her. She knew that Jon was just being practical, that he had too much sense to hold a man's status against his character. 

But then, he seemed to make many exceptions to sense when it came to those she cared about. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to marry Gendry, but she knew she’d prefer him to most, and she wasn’t about to let Jon discount him without objection.

"Gendry isn't just a smith.” She reminded him stiffly, fighting to remain civil as he huffed and turned away. "He leads the Brotherhood without Banners. He has earned the respect of Westeros.”

"And the smallfolk adore him. He's not just some war hero to them," Rickon added eagerly, looking to her, and she nodded him on. “He means something more. The whole Brotherhood does. They love them.”

"And he may not be a lord, by his own choice," Arya concluded, "but he is a Baratheon. That could mollify at least some of the lords."

"And would it mollify Daenerys? Or Aegon?" Jon snapped. "When it was a Baratheon who killed their family and sent them into exile in the first place? I may be their kin but I can only do so much to protect you."

"I thought that Daenerys granted immunity and legitimacy to Robert's children in exchange for recognizing Targaryen rule?" Sansa asked, hands moving to her hips. "Even Edric Baratheon has bent the knee."

"So how do you think she feels about Gendry, then, the only bastard to refuse her offer of a title and land? And the leader of a band of fools," Jon spat the word like it tasted foul on his tongue, "who reject the authority of anyone who wears a crown?"

Why Jon was suddenly spouting hostility at the Brotherhood he'd vocally appreciated during the war, Arya wasn't sure, but as much as she took issue with his slander, it wasn’t the time to bring it up. "If Daenerys does see the Brotherhood as a threat, then a marriage between us could be a means of establishing peace before a conflict breaks out...”

The look Jon gave her was that of a wounded animal with its prey cornered. She forgot what she had been about to say.

"If you think," he hissed, "that I'm going to risk your life on the premise that it might prevent disputes between that menace and the Crown, then I am going to have to disappoint you."

"And what of Edric Dayne?"

Arya could only watch as Jon turned away to face her sister, whose chin jutted out defiantly at the king. That imperious timbre sent shivers down Arya’s spine. She hadn’t heard her sister take such a lofty tone with Jon in ten years.

Jon, on the other hand, just sounded irritated. "What of him?"

"As a candidate for Arya's husband,” Sansa deadpanned, as unamused with him as he was with her. “Is something wrong with him?"

"Is this not the boy that used to traipse around with the same Brotherhood?" Jon enunciated his words as if he was speaking to someone extraordinarily slow and particularly annoying, and if his goal was to offend, then by the way Sansa bristled, he had succeeded.

"His involvement with the Brotherhood was minimal, contingent on his position as Ser Dondarrion's squire, and has already ended," she pointed out hotly. "It would have to, either way, seeing as he's not just a lord, but the heir to Starfall." 

"And you think as the heir to Starfall, he and his bride will not be obligated to return to Starfall?" Jon replied just as impatiently. "He could afford to pick up the mantle of Sword of the Morning and run around the continent as a knight during the war, but do you truly think he will forfeit his responsibilities at the behest of a girl he knew when he was a squire?"

"But what if he forfeits his claim? If he intends to work for the council, he will."

"Then there is no guarantee he settles here."

“Oh,” Sansa made a cruel, ladylike sound, something like a laugh but not. "Is that all?"

The whites of Jon’s eyes had never been so visible. "Is that all?"

"Is that all, that she may have to leave? Is that your only qualm?"

"He offers her nothing!"

"He's a lord. He's an heir." Sansa lifted a finger with each point she made. "He's a war hero. He's a celebrated ally to the Martells, and to the Targaryens!"

Jon scoffed, loud, and so unlike him at all that Arya's jaw fell a little. "If a king with Targaryen blood is not enough to guarantee peace with the Targaryens, then a marriage to Edric Dayne will do no better! He offers her nothing!"

"He offers her security and kindness!" Sansa roared, calm breaking like the sea against cliffs. "He and Arya are not just familiar with each other — they're friends. Do you understand how rare and precious it is? As far as safety and happiness can go, there's no better assurance than that."

"What of our assurance?" Rickon snapped, stepping into line with his cousin, opposing Sansa. "We can offer her better than that."

"Exactly, Rickon!" Jon crowed, towering above them all even as he leaned in to emphasize his point. "Her family, in Winterfell, is better than that."

Her sister sputtered at his malice, turning to Arya, but she could only stare back, face still slack with surprise. Helpless, Sansa seethed, shaking her head at them all. "And so, what? She will never marry anyone?"

"I don't see why she has to," Rickon grumbled, but Arya barely heard him as Jon crossed over to her, took her by the shoulder, and tucked her into his side. "At least right away.”

"She doesn't," Jon agreed, gaze soft and raw, as if he’d been stripped bare and bleeding before her and didn't mind at all. What was she supposed to do? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Time? But then he said, “She won’t.”

Sansa shrunk back as if slapped and Arya stilled under his arm. This was a voice she'd only heard him wield on the battlefield, or in court, deep as a wolf and imperious as a dragon. He had never been the king with them, not with his family, no matter how they'd fought or what over. But now, he’d raised his head to look at Sansa with narrowed eyes, and did not seem to see a cousin at all.

He continued steadily, "We have every right to keep her."

Sansa’s teeth were small and peeked out from her mouth like she wanted to run but when she met Arya's gaze, her mouth shut. She straightened her posture, her chin dipped low and humble this time. "You are a Targaryen king, but you're not her head of house. You may have a say, but the final word is Bran's."

Jon’s grip tightened and Arya winced as he positioned himself between the two sisters, almost as if to make sure Sansa wouldn’t reach out and grab her.

"Oh, did you forget?" she asked, so elegantly applying salt in the wound.

"It seems Bran has," Arya interjected. "Surely he has something to add?"

She looked to her brother, silently imploring, but he merely made a contented hum. Part of her wanted to tear her hair out, another wanted a go at his. She did not see what was so amusing about their siblings spitting and hissing at one another over her marriage prospects. Jon and Sansa were volatile enough as it is, some days managing genuine cordiality and others only just barely maintaining a facade of civility. This couldn’t help.

"Bran will do what's best for Arya," Jon spoke on his behalf, drawing her even closer, so her chest was pressed to his ribs. His heat warmed her like a furnace. "I trust him with that much. He loves his sister."

"And I don't," Sansa inhaled, eyes wide and stepping back. "That's what you mean, isn't it? Be honest with us, Jon. Arya and I have made our peace and moved past our childhood quarrels, but clearly, you haven't. You still hold them against me, don't you?"

"It's nothing like that," Arya assured her with a furrowed brow, gesturing for her cousin to corroborate. Jon didn't say a word.

Sansa looked down at her and soon deflated. "What would you know? He's an entirely different person to you.” She turned back to Jon, her voice low and scathing. “You’re making me look like a villain for suggesting she marry at all, but I’m just trying to find her someone who will be good for her before it’s too late. I will not allow her to suffer like I did.”

"No, you would just exile her from her home, to live with strangers.” There was no room for argument. There never had been. “Arya has been away from home long enough without you sending her away once more."

"Away from home, or away from you?”

She might’ve said more, she must’ve said more, and Jon must’ve said more too, but Arya couldn’t stand to hear another a word of it. What was the point of this bickering and bullshit? All the while Bran just sat there with that inscrutable certainty as his eyes trailed after Jon, and what did any of it matter?

“Enough!” she howled, pushing at his chest and ripping out of Jon’s reach.

His arm hung in the air for a moment, expression hurt, but she didn't have the time to be sorry.

"Were either of you going to ask me what I thought? Or are you two happy assuming you know what's best for me, as well as the North, and the rest of the kingdoms?" she snapped. Sansa, Jon, and even Rickon all began speaking at once, but she'd had enough of listening for an entire week. “Shut up! I’m sick of it. I’m sick of all of you.” She sneered. “What a waste of time.”

Sansa objected, and Jon tried to defend himself, but it had been, nothing but a waste of time and a strain on their throats. If this was the way things would go, she was better off being stolen by the free folk. She was half tempted to leave her window open in invitation. They might not even have to bind and carry her.

"We are not going to make these decisions in a single evening," Bran's voice raised now, cutting through the clamor like a sword through cloth. "I knew that when I brought it up. Although, I had thought we'd at least get the chance to discuss some of the prospects for Rickon and me. But that can wait for now. We have other engagements to attend to.”

"Right," she croaked. Meals and men. Meals and men. She was supposed to meet with Ser Davos and Lord Manderley. Through the window, the sky was orange. She swallowed, but her throat kept dry. "I'm already late. I have to go.”

She moved to leave, and Jon moved to follow, but Bran called out and asked him to wait as the door swung shut behind her, and that was the last she allowed herself to hear before breaking into a sprint.

X

@mysticalmuddle This isn’t the fic I was talking about before, but I thought you might like to be tagged anyway, seeing as you’re basically the sole reason I ever post my fics! Thank you for all your encouragement, you are amazing.

[togansweep]

so I had a tomgreg dream last night. this is it, enjoy.

tom wants to woo greg (and confess his love for him), so he sends him an inventation to have dinner together in his lake house (this takes place after he's already divorced shiv).

tom is waiting outside the house, all nervous & dressed up (in that white suit he wore in all the bells say) and after a little while he sees greg arriving. but not just greg, no no. also shiv. and roman. and kendall. and connor & willa. and logan. the whole fucking roy family. so apparently he accidentally invited the entire family instead of just greg (don't ask me how he managed to do this)

of course he starts completely panicking because he doesn't want to have a fucking romantic dinner with his love interest, his ex-wife who also happens to be his love interest's cousin & his ex in-laws. the problem is that this nice little dinner he planned was romance-themed & incredibly cheesy. think rose petals. a violin player. the whole nine.

he can't really send them away now, how would he explain that? so tom tries to keep his cool and greets the guests (who are all kinda confused why they're here and think there's probably an emergency or something very important going on), then he quickly goes inside to get one of his guys to fix a bigger table.

they start the first course and it is... incredibly awkward. understandably. roman makes a comment about the rose petals and tom brushes it off with some god awful joke about having romantic dinners with himself in his free time. tom is angry at roman because he stole his chair right in front of him and now he doesn't even get to sit next to greg. instead he sits next to shiv, and the tension is immense. they don't say much to each other but when they do it's offhanded mean remarks. meanwhile greg keeps talking with kendall about some stupid musician tom's never heard of.

because of this whole horrifying situation tom drinks a little more than he should. a LOT more than he should. at the end of the main course he's completely hammered. he starts saying anything to get attention from greg, which, of course, receives some raised eyebrows from the others. he becomes a clingy ass motherfucker and at one point he tries to sit on the same chair as greg (he's VERY drunk) and is touching him way too much considering he's in front of his ex in-laws.

greg just sort of... laughs it off and tries to get tom to leave his chair (without much luck).

the worst thing hasn't happened yet. oh no. because this whole thing was tom's plan to confess his feelings to greg. so he bought a VERY expensive gorgeous watch with some sort of dramatic nero & sporus inscription (I read about this in a fic so that's probably why it returned in my dream) & erranged for his butler to hand it over to greg during dessert. and he completely forgot to cancel it after the rest of the family arrived.

so the butler gives greg the box with the watch, he opens it and reads the inscription. out loud. his cheeks turn red. tom's heart stops beating, this couldn't be happening, no no no no no. everyone is looking in shock. logan makes a homophobic comment (because of course he fucking does) and tom tries to tell everyone that it's a friend gift and that they're just friends, really really good friends. but then shiv says that it's quite obvious he's completely besotted with cousin greg from the way he's been acting all evening and then it becomes all too much.

tom completely explodes, he starts crying & screaming that they're all horrible people and that they should all leave his house and never return, or he'll send a hitman to kill every single one of them.

he runs outside to one of his boats (I guess his post-divorce hobby is collecting boats), goes inside, cries some more & then blacks out (from all the alcohol & emotions, he's incredibly exhausted).

tom awakes about an hour later to someone tapping lightly on his shoulder. he opens his eyes. it's greg. "go away." but greg doesn't go away. tom tells him that if he doesn't go away he's gonna send a hitman after him to kill him like he said before. greg doesn't say anything in return, he just hugs him. then he says that all the others have left, so he doesn't need to worry about that. and that he's sorry for reading the inscription out loud. tom replies that it's alright.

and then tom remembers something else, something he planned to do after giving greg the watch. "come on" he says. they get out of the boat, and greg follows tom into the woods until they reach a ruin. a roman ruin. (this doesn't make sense because they're in america but it's a dream so everything's possible, right?)

and then tom kisses him. and to his surprise, greg's kissing him back. turns out it isn't the worst night of his life after all.

[badgirlcovenrep]

The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)

Chapter One

(NOTES: the raylla adopts Tiffany fic everyone's been asking for

this is going on AO3 once I get home from my sister's but I wanted to post here first. If you'd rather read it there follow me and I'll post once it's officially in there.

Obs: Tiffany is six in this. Mostly because I wanted to write our witch moms carrying their baby and canonically she's like ten so..... and she's also like severely traumatized. We'll get to the healing soon enough though.

+ Edwin is the best papa. And Scylla has p much already adopted this kid, she just doesn't know it yet.

It's half past six p.m when their train screeches to a halt at the Chippewa station. In all the chaos of the last couple of weeks, Scylla hadn't realized Yule was well on it's way. It is still mid November, but the station has been prematurely decked in civilian Christmas decorations, and almost every wall and corner twinkles in golden speckles and fake pine.

Tiffany had been dozing in and out of sleep on the bench next to her, holding tight to her stuffed parrot as well as Scylla's coat sleeve with her restless small hands that spasmed in pure energy even as she slept. Since coming back from Nicte's mission, Scylla had been in a frenzy to get everything ready for their trip, and Tiffany had followed her around the (no longer safe) safe house, clinging on to her attention with wide blue eyes. She'd always liked kids. Before everything happened Scylla even used to babysit for dodger families.

It was never a lot of money, but she appreciated the levity and humor kids carried. They had hope Scylla prayed she could one day get back. Hope that could only come from the fleeting innocence of childhood. But even then, Tiffany was special, she still had all those wonderful, bright things, and she carried them in bulk, spilling out of her tiny little hands for anyone to see.

Yet she was also touched by things so horrible Scylla sometimes shuddered awake in the dead of night, when her mind conjured up terrible nightmares of being in her place. Of being squeezed into a tiny cage, fed dog food, strung up on a stage as masked psychopaths snickered and passed around stones bigger than fists. It showed, sometimes, in how every once in a while her expression became somber and reserved. How she stopped mid-sentence, and Scylla could see the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

It reminded her of Raelle - Raelle, who'd sat in her bed just yesterday and snacked on the stupid expensive popcorn her mother had bought - Raelle, who also carried so much darkness behind her strong, steady demeanor - those were the parts of her Scylla couldn't help but want to protect, and as a result, those feelings also extended to Tiffany. Scylla lost a lot of people in her life, and she'd decided the day she found the child's parents that she would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just like she wished someone might have done for her. Because that sort of hidden, desolate pain could just as well transform itself into something entirely awful if exploited the right way.

People around her start getting up from their seats, reaching to the compartments for their luggage, there aren't many of them making their way up North this time of year but they still fill the cart in humming conversations, deciding on what to do next or where to get dinner. Scylla takes this as her cue to skim her fingers through Tiffany's hair, gently nudging her awake, "Hey, T, wake up, we're here."

The little girl sits up, bleary eyed, and yawns, looking around at the commotion, "it's already Christmas?" She asks, catching a glimpse of the boisterous decorations set up outside.

"Not yet, no." Scylla chuckles, getting up from her seat to retrieve their own bags - they had everything the two could think to bring, and yet were still not much. A duffel bag for Scylla and purple backpack for Tiffany, with unicorn stickers and colorful buttons sewn to the front. Scylla had retrieved it, along with some toys and clothes, from the girl's home, "People just love decorating early."

"Oh." Tiffany quips, as Scylla helps her fit her arms into the straps of her backpack, then takes her hand in a steady grip once they are done, pulling the young girl towards the door to leave the train, "The lights are pretty!" She exclaims happily, blinking in wide eyed wonder.

Outside, November has definitely made itself known, and Scylla is glad they are both warm in their coats as the wind bites her cheeks until they turn a dark blush. She looks around for Edwin, not sure she'll recognize him from the pictures she'd seen Willa scatter around the house, but still willing to try.

For a second, in that moment, she thinks this might not have been a good idea. When Scylla agreed to it, she'd admittedly not been in her full faculties, brain too preoccupied with seeing Raelle again after so long to completely comprehend what she'd been offered.

After everything that happened, she can't help but be a little nervous to meet the father of her ex (?), the same girl she still very much loved. The girl who had run back to her in that dark forest a day before and clung onto her face until all they could breathe was each other.

If she thought too much about it, Scylla could still feel the soft, almost painful impact of her lips as Raelle knocked her off her balance and breathed fire into her chest like molten lava. It'd been so long, she almost forgot the kind of power Raelle had when she kissed. Like she was always on the verge of tasting your very soul. Their whole day back together before was so very delicate and tentative, air fizzling with electricity like the tension of a bow, pulled tight with an arrow ready to shoot.

The time they've been separated her heart was squeezed tight under an elastic band. Whenever she stopped to think, even for a minute, she could feel it taught, so very strained, reaching from the very inside of her ribs. It was there from the very start. The tightness was what propelled her diaphragm into breathing Raelle in that very first night they spent together, even if she knew she shouldn't, and then, it was what kept them orbiting around each other like their very own solar system. Never too far apart. Always wishing to be closer.

When they kissed in the clearing, hairs messy with the wild strumming of the bat just a few feet away, for the first time, she felt like the band released. The invisible string, so very tight, loosening from under her heart to extend around the both of them and wrap them in what Scylla could only describe as exhilarating, shaking relief. The touch of Raelle's cotton gloves, that she never thought she'd feel again - the taste of her lips, like blood and rain droplets and a mouthful of just her.

It left Scylla running on a high since she walked away from Raelle just the day before, in the early hours of the morning.

It's not how she hoped she'd meet Raelle's dad. Deep down, no matter how much she tried not to, Scylla had imagined herself, more than once, coming to the Cession hand in hand with the blonde fixer. In love and together, going home to meet the parents. It's bittersweet to be here with Tiffany instead, and she has to squeeze the young witch's hand slightly to ground herself from the urge to run.

To just take the child's small body in her arms and run- leave the station in lieu of a cheap motel, one with vending machines, where they could hide from the world a little longer.

When the witch looks down, however, Tiffany smiles reassuringly back at her, squeezing her hand slightly in return, and Scylla can't help the wave of affection that washes over her.

"Excuse me? Are you Scylla and Tiffany?" A voice coming from behind wakes them back from the moment, and when they turn, both come face to face with Edwin Collar.

Scylla's sure it's him. If not because he does still look quite a lot like the pictures she's seen, then because the necromancer can definitely see the telltale signs of Raelle written all over his face. It's mostly there in the kind drop of his eyelids, and the way his mouth creates tiny wrinkles of soft skin when he smiles, but it's there, nonetheless.

"Yes, we are, nice to meet you, Mr. Collar." Scylla greets, settling down her bag to shake his hand.

"Of course, it's amazing to finally meet you. Raelle talked you up a storm," he declares, chuckling proudly, "only good things, I assure."

"Oh, I'm sure I don't deserve that." She let's out, hoping it sounded more playful than it feels for her.

"Nonsense. You seem like a kind girl." The man decides, with a solemn nod, before turning to Tiffany, "and you- Tiffany, I'm very happy to have you with me this week as well, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together."

"Thank you, Mr. Collar." The small blonde replies, half-hiding herself behind Scylla's pant leg.

"Let's go then. It's getting cold." Edwin finally declares, taking Scylla's bag from the floor without a question. The girl goes to complain, but he cuts her off before she can - "and don't fight me on this. Raelle also never let's me carry her bags, for once I'd love to help."

Scylla still wants to protest. Mostly because she feels that they have already asked so much - and she doesn't quite deserve the kindness - but he seems sincere, so she nods instead, and with the affirmative, all three begin their way to the parking lot.

"Is Raelle your friend?" Tiffany asks innocently, skipping happily over her boots.

"Uh- she- yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Well, you said we were going to a friend's dad's house." Tiffany notes. "Where is Raelle then?"

"About that-" Edwin stops in his step, "did you see her? How is she?" He asks, an uneasy tension settling over his demeanor as he studies Scylla for answers, "they told me she was alive but that was it-"

"She's okay. I saw her yesterday, she was well." The brunette assures, and that seems to send a wave of relief over the man, who breathes deeply before continuing their walk along the various cars.

"Oh, thank goodness." He sighs, "when those people took her I thought- I'm so glad she's okay."

"Yeah. We were all worried." Scylla declares. And this, she can relate to. The way he cares so much for Raelle, it spills into the very movement of his expressions. It's familiar, and it warms her heart. She decides right then that she likes Edwin.

"Did the bad people take Raelle too?" Tiffany questions, frowning in scared surprise as they reach Edwin's old truck.

Scylla sighs, not having revealed much of the mission she'd gone on the day before. She knew it'd be scary for her. Tiffany was still very much traumatized, and rightfully so, after everything she'd been through. But Tiffany was also very smart- and observant. She'd catch up eventually and Scylla feels stupid for not dealing with this before coming.

"Yeah. They tried to hurt her, but me and her other friends didn't let them." The necromancer assures, as she helps the girl into the backseat and clicks in her seatbelt, "she's okay now. We're all safe here."

"Oh- Okay." Tiffany nods, but Scylla can see the doubt shining under her eyes.

Scylla wishes she knew what to say, but words fail her, so she squeezes the girl's hand reassuringly once more, winking in what she hopes is humorous solidarity, before closing the door.

***

Raelle's house is just like she imagines- small, rustic - surrounded by a thick canopy of trees and bushes. It reminds her of the places she used to stay with her parents, scattered over random cities all over the U.S. Scylla likes it.

"It isn't much, but we always have warm dinner and pancakes in the morning." Edwin quips, humbly, as he leads the pair of witches to Raelle's room, "you can stay here. Hope it is comfortable."

"This is more than enough, Edwin." Scylla smiles gratefully, "it's too much, really. Thank you for letting us stay."

"Nonsense." He waves his hand with a half embarrassed chuckle, "It's good to have people here again. After Rae and Tally left everything feels a lot quieter." Scylla nods in agreement, as the man turns to leave the room, the two witches inside watching him carefully, "You guys should change and rest a bit- I'll call you for dinner.

Scylla thanks him, and waits until the door clicks behind his back to turn her attention to the luggage that had been settled over a random chair. The room is filled with so much Raelle, she can't help but notice the letters, pictures, memories and song lyrics, glued to every single wall, from a time before Fort Salem, before them.

The blonde used to leave notes on her dorm walls back at Fort Salem. Lots of silly things like "I'll be back after training" or "You fight people in your sleep. It's cute.". Scylla wonders if they are still there or if they've been taken by the army when she was captured. It doesn't matter anymore, the necro realizes, and she shakes her head in an effort to bring her attention back to the room.

"You should put on some pajamas." Scylla says toward Tiffany, who sat, grievously quiet, at Raelle's bed.

She looked thoughtful, in a way regular six year olds don't quite show unless they have to go through way too much. Her small, bright eyes hide barely concealed darkness as she shifts her looks everywhere but at the older witch.

Scylla sighs, finding this place - this relationship - so very painfully familiar. She'd been the scared little girl last time, feeling so very small and alone. And now, as the adult, she was definitely going to try her best not to fuck it. As difficult as it might be. The world didn't need another suffering witch.

After a few minutes of silence, Scylla realizes she was not going to get an answer, so she opens the girl's backpack and fishes out a pair of mermaid themed leggings and t-shirt, along with the small bag that carried her tooth and hair brushes along with some other toiletries. Scylla places the items by Tiffany on the mattress, kneeling in front of the young witch and studying her clear, soft little face.

"Hey. Are you feeling alright?"

"Are the bad men coming here to hurt us?" Tiffany asks, instead of a response, and Scylla frowns in worry.

"No, of course no-"

"They came and took Raelle too." Tiffany notices, tears escaping from her eyelids that Scylla dries up with her thumb, "and they hurt Miss Willa, the other kids' at the office and my mommy and daddy. What if they come here again? What if they really hurt us this time?" As the questions stumble out of her mouth, sobs begin to wreck across her throat until she's shaking, ever so slightly, with the force of her tears and heavy, panicked breathing.

Scylla sighs and rises from the ground to cuddle the girl close to her chest, squeezing tight until she can feel Tiffany's little arms squeeze her back. Scylla's afraid too - most of the time, if she allowed herself to be honest - Ever since watching Raelle leave her in that cell the year before, the girl could feel even more perfectly the path of death and destruction that marked their (the witches') way through the world.

One of the bad things about being a necro - Death didn't like not being known, and it showed itself insistently, to anyone able to notice.

"We don't know whether or not they'll come again." Scylla ends up responding, sincerely, as she squeezes her arms even tighter around the little girl, "but I won't let them hurt you, you hear me? I dealt with them before, I can deal with them again."

"No" Tiffany shakes her head, frowning up at her in teary-eyed fear, "You too. You're safe too. I don't want you to get hurt either."

"Hey." Scylla forces out a chuckle, trying to lighten up the situation for the young witch's sake, "don't be silly, ok? I'm pretty much invincible."

Tiffany doesn't laugh, her breathing having somewhat returned to normal. The girl just stares back at Scylla with a seriousness that's all too unfair, coming from a six year old, and she reaches out, her pinky finger lifted in expectation, "Pinky promise you'll be safe too? Please?"

Scylla knows she shouldn't. The truth is, she doesn't know what will happen. After their plan to capture Nicte was said and done, Scylla barely had any idea what she would be doing now. But Tiffany obviously needs the reassurance, from the way she stares ever so desperately at the necro's face.

"Okay, I pinky promise." Scylla smiles, trying to convey some calm toward the other girl as she let her pinky link with the smaller one. It seems to work, as Tiffany's expression softens and her tense posture falls, "now let's get you under a shower and into some pajamas, ok? You're a very smelly little witch right now."

"Am not!" Tiffany replies, and Scylla can't help but full on laugh this time, pulling the small girl to Raelle's bathroom as she mockingly protests.

Second chapter is almost done, just needs to be read over for mistakes. For C2, Raelle calls home, Scylla meets old dodger friends and she also has an important conversation with Edwin.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Sadashi Harada/Kaiya Yashida, AKA Silver Samurai

So she is still the daughter of Logan Howlett and Mariko Yashida, but after she was poisoned and Logan was forced to kill her to give her a quick death rather than a slow, painful one, she was sent to live with her uncle, Keniuchio Harada, who changed her name from Kaiya Yashida to Sadashi Harada

She was harshly trained and often beaten by Keniuchio’s son, Shin, who saw her as a threat to being next in line to be leader of the Harada Clan, and wanted to prove to his father that he was better

Sadashi was kept locked up in her room most of her life, with hardly any social interaction aside from her training sessions or servants bringing her meals. She only had one window, but it was too high to ever escape out of, so she’d only look out of it, longing to leave and live a better life

When Logan heard his daughter was still alive (he had been told she was poisoned as well), he and the X-Men invaded the Harada Fortress to retrieve her. She was scared and confused cause she never knew who her father was, and he kept calling her Kaiya so she was just very confused and afraid for awhile, but went with him willingly because she just wanted to leave the Fortress

She’s very quiet and well mannered, extremely elegant and was training to be a geisha rather than leader of the clan since Shin was clearly ruthless and refuses to let her be better than him. So she’s very intelligent and talented in the arts, especially with music

The X-Girls have her sleep over in their rooms a lot (they often have sleepovers, everyone just piling into one of their rooms) and help her learn how to be a normal teenager. Amber will give her a makeover, Alexa and Anja are having her watch Netflix tv shows to catch up with society, Pepper and A’Kioni are already snoring on the bed, and Willa-Deene is trying to teach her some card games

Her English is very broken and she only knows few words, she only ever spoke Japanese and she has a very strong accent as well, so all her L’s come out as R’s and she gets embarrassed about it but her friends all tell her it’s really cute

She’s not familiar with modern technology, she still needs help working the microwave and she doesn’t have a phone yet cause it would be like teaching your great grandmother how to use a phone, it just wouldn’t work out

[freedom-of-writing]

The Stable Girl

Wayhaught AU: 

Waverly of the house Earp is a young princess supposed to marry the champion of the tournament organized by her father, the king, for her 21st birthday. Nicole is the new stable girl with big dreams of becoming a knight of the king's guard. What will happen when these two elements, minding their own business, finally connect? Will they become love?

Chapter 1 – Waverly’s birthday

Her 21st birthday was supposed to be the most magical day of her life. She’d been planning that day for years now. But unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. Actually, for her it seemed like they never went as planned. Her eldest sister Willa had gotten married 4 years prior, and she had moved to another castle with her husband, prince Robert Svane. Not that she missed her. Willa had always been a bully to her. As for her other big sister Wynonna, she was a knight of the king’s guard, their father’s army, and she’d been away for ten months now. She was probably still fighting some battle, or just getting really drunk in some tavern with the rest of the knights. She’d promised she’d be back for her birthday, but she must’ve forgotten. As always. And that was it. The only other people she talked to in the castle were her two handmaids, Stephanie and Chrissy. When they were younger, she used to consider them her friends, but with time she’d come to realize they only cared about gossip, beautiful dresses and boys. She was way too educated to settle for their company. What she really needed was someone with whom she could talk about literature and science, and do all kinds of things that were not necessarily girly.

When she was a kid, she and Wynonna used to hang out with the stable boys, or the king’s guard rookies. They would wrestle each other and spar with wooden swords, and in the hot season they would ride to a lake only a few miles away from the castle, and they would swim, and talk, and play around… She missed doing all those things. But mostly, she missed being allowed to hang with her sister and the boys. It’d been so long since she’d felt that carefree and happy. Seven years to be precise. On her 14th birthday her father told her she was no longer a kid, and it was time for her to start behaving like a proper lady. She’d never understood why Wynonna was allowed to be a tomboy, while she had to give it all up. But maybe it’s because their father simply viewed his middle daughter as a lost cause. Which might also be why he had given her an ultimatum: either she got married and started acting like a lady, or she trained to become a knight of the king’s guard. But Waverly, she wasn’t stubborn enough to go against her father’s will. And that led her to years spent following Willa around and mimicking her every move, while her sister basically treated her like her personal slave. Finally, when Willa got married, Waverly was left alone. Apart from some brief visits from Wynonna, she’d been alone for 4 years now. At first it had felt very lonely, but with time she got used to the peace and quiet, and most of all, to the company of a good book or some music. She would spend most of her days in the library, reading books, playing piano and singing. When her father wasn’t at home, she would go to the stables and spend hours with the horses, the dogs and Lady Jane, a ginger cat who seemed to dislike every human but her. But she would always make sure not to be alone with the stable boys. She could see the hungry looks on their faces whenever they saw her, and that made her extremely uncomfortable. Wynonna had warned her about that: “beware of the boy who’s turned into a man, for he wants a woman not a friend”. Sometimes her sister could be quite poetic. But she was right. Those who used to be her friends now scared her, and she did not want to be alone in their presence.

Anyways, back to her birthday. You’d think having to spend it all alone was the worst of it, but no. It gets even worse. Apparently, her father had decided 21 was the perfect age for her to become officially a lady. Someone’s lady, to be precise. Her dreams of travelling and exploring the world after coming of age were all shattered by the king’s wish to find her a husband. He would have never said it out loud, but Waverly knew her father couldn’t wait to get rid of her, as bad as it sounds. She never understood why he hated her so much. He was always so attentive when it came to Willa and Wynonna, but with her… sometimes she felt like he didn’t even remember he had a third daughter. Wynonna had always told her he only became so harsh when their mother left. But why punishing his six-year-old kid for a decision his wife had made? It was not her fault she chose to leave her family behind and start a new life somewhere else. If it were for Waverly, she would have gladly left with her mother. At least the queen had always been caring and loving with her. Everything her father had never been. He had never given a damn about what she wanted, nor had he ever bothered giving her a choice.

“You’ll be a grown woman soon. It’s time we find you a husband. You can’t live under your father’s roof forever.” He had told her a month before.

Not wasting any time, he had come up with the perfect plan to find a suitor for his daughter: in honor of the princess’s birthday, the king was to host a week-long tournament, and lords and princes from all over the realm were to come and fight for a chance to win her hand.

Waverly had lost count of how many men she had to welcome and greet in the past couple of days. And it wasn’t even over yet. The last of the party were to arrive that morning, so not even on her birthday was she allowed to have some time for herself and do something she liked. That’s why she had ordered her handmaids to come wake her up early that morning. Obedient as always, Chrissy and Stephanie had knocked on her door at 7 am, two hours before the first guests would be arriving to meet her. In just a little over an hour she was up and ready, which meant she had quite some time to spend on her own before meeting her father in the throne room. The two girls had tried to convince her to let them stay so they could celebrate her birthday together over breakfast, but she had a long day ahead of her, and she really needed some peace and quiet before it started.

When the two had left, she sat down by the window to look out at the garden. Opening it a little, she let the cool breeze run through her stray locks, and she took a deep breath in. She was wearing a huge silver gown with high-heeled shoes. And her hair was tied up behind her head with little lilac flowers in it. The fresh air and the peaceful atmosphere of the garden made her forget about how uncomfortable those clothes were, and for a moment she imagined being little carefree Waverly, running barefoot in the grass chasing butterflies and dreaming about flying up in the sky with them. Her mother would be sitting under a tree making her a flower crown, while Wynonna would be chasing squirrels up the trees like a little monkey. And Willa… well she would be inside with their father, learning how to rule a kingdom. As far as Waverly could remember, Willa had never played outside with them. Wynonna used to say her big sister loved playing with her when they were little, but she was the heir and their father wanted to be sure she knew how to rule the kingdom once he was gone. That’s why Willa had stopped being a kid quite early on.

It was almost the end of summer, and the trees were starting to look less green than before. A light shade of yellow tinted the leaves, and the grass was no longer covered in flowers. In just a few weeks most of the birds would be gone as well, flying away to look for a warmer place to spend the winter. Waverly remembered a conversation she had with her mother on her sixth birthday. The last they spent together.

“The garden is a magical place, my little one. The grass, the trees, the animals moving around… everything’s alive. And everything keeps changing. I could stare at it every day for the rest of my life and never get tired. If you look closely, there’s always something new to admire.”

“But in winter it gets kinda sad. The birds all leave, and the squirrels hide. It all looks kind of naked without leaves and flowers.”

“Life’s a circle, baby girl. The old die so the new can thrive. But there’s beauty even in the silence of a sleeping garden.”

“I miss you, mama.” Waverly whispered at the wind as a tear fell down her cheek.

The king had told everyone the queen had died of a sudden illness, but the three princesses knew she had just left because she couldn’t take that life any longer. Wherever she was, Waverly imagined her sitting in the grass with her eyes closed as she listened to what nature had to say around her. And she was happy. At peace.

Speaking of, her own peace was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was time. Two of his father’s guards had come to escort her to the throne room, where the king was already waiting for her. With a heavy sigh, Waverly got up and closed the window, taking one last deep breath in. Then she turned and followed the guards outside.

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“Father.” She greeted with a slight bow when she reached the throne.

Her father barely bowed his head in return before motioning for her to take her seat by his right side. Once she was seated, she noticed lord John Henry Holliday, the king’s hand, had also taken his place on the other side of the throne. Doc, as he liked to be called, was a middle-aged man, with black hair and a thick black mustache. His beautiful blue eyes met hers briefly and he smiled warmly at her. She had never spent much time with him, but the man had always been really nice and sweet with her.

“Happy birthday, princess.” He mouthed at her.

“Thank you.” She mouthed back with a bright smile.

It was in that moment that she realized her father had not even bothered wishing her a happy birthday when she entered the room. But he probably didn’t even remember it was today. He had never really been aware of her birthday. If it weren’t for Doc, she was sure, he wouldn’t have even remembered she was turning 21 that year.

The noise of heavy footsteps approaching the room brought her back to reality. The captain of the guards, who had been charged to escort each guest to the throne room, entered the room and announced the first lord.

“Welcome to Purgatory, lord Lance” Doc greeted him once the man was standing in front of the throne.

Lord Lance nodded briefly at him, before bowing to the king. “Your majesty.” Then, turning towards Waverly, he bowed slightly to her as well. “Princess.”

“If you will, please, follow the guards, they’ll show you to your room. You can rest and get changed. The king and the princess will see you at lunch.” Doc told him.

“Thank you, lord Holliday.” He nodded again, and then he turned to follow the guards out of the room.

“These Lance… are they rich?” The king asked once the man had left.

“Very rich, your majesty.”

“Good. He seems nice too.”

“He could be father…” Waverly whispered making sure her father wouldn’t hear her.

If she really had no choice but to get married, couldn’t she at least marry a man her age? She thought to herself with a heavy sigh. This birthday was slowly turning into her worst nightmare. She could almost feel tears forming in her eyes, but she could not cry right now. The morning had just begun, she had to keep it together. With a deep breath, she pushed back the tears, and she put on a smile as the next guest was admitted into the room.

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The morning had seemed to last forever. The last of the guests arrived when everyone was ready to go to lunch, and the king refused to meet him. Doc had tried to convince Waverly to go with the king, but she refused. She hated this whole meeting and greeting the guests, but these men had come from all over the realm just for her, and the least she could do was welcoming them into her home as a princess should do. Obviously, her gesture did not go unnoticed, and the lord made sure she knew how grateful he was for her patience. He was an old man, almost completely bold, but at least he’d proved to be very polite, offering Waverly his arm as they walked to the dining room.

After an hour, Waverly was getting a terrific headache, and she just couldn’t take the noise anymore. Being the only woman in a room full of men was bad enough, but being the only woman in a room full of screaming drunk men was too much.

“Father, I’m not feeling well, I think I might retreat to the library for a while.” She tried to tell him, but the king was too drunk to process what she’d just said.

Luckily, Doc heard her and granted her permission to go. “We’ll see you at four. Have some rest, princess.”

She smiled gratefully at him, and then she turned towards the guests excusing herself. Once she was out, she ran down the hallway and out into the garden. As the fresh air filled her lungs, she felt her head beginning to pound less and less. She was free, at least for an hour or so. After a moment of reflection, she decided that going for a walk in the garden would be much better than closing herself in the library. The cool breeze would surely make her headache to go away. She just hoped no one went looking for her inside, or she would be in great trouble.

She’d been walking for forty minutes when she found herself in front of the stables. It had been a while since the last time she went in. In the past year the king had barely ever left the castle to go haunting with his lords. Taking a look around to make sure nobody could see her, she decided to go in. She was immediately greeted by lady Jane who came running towards her.

“Hey, little one. Did you miss me? Yeah?” She said as she leaned down to pet her, and the cat happily purred in response.

She stayed like that for a while, but suddenly the cat took off looking for a place to hide.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Waverly asked as she got up to see where she had gone.

“I didn’t know princesses were allowed in the stables.” A voice said from behind, startling her.

“God!” Waverly exclaimed with a little jump. “You scared me...” She said turning around to face the other person.

In front of her was a beautiful tall young woman with long red hair and big brown eyes, which seemed like they could stare right into her soul. She was wearing a pair of khakis and a sleeveless brown leather jacket over a creme shirt. She must have been a new servant or something, because Waverly couldn’t recall having seen her before. And it’s not like there were many ginger heads around there.

“Are you okay?” The redhead asked with a chuckle.

Waverly couldn’t help but stare at her. The woman was giving her the most beautiful smile Waverly had ever seen. And the dimples on the side of her mouth made her look even cuter.

“Yeah, I’m… I just had a crazy morning.” She managed to answer after a moment.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to see it.” The woman said with a smirk.

Was she… was this woman flirting with her? Waverly couldn’t help but blush a little at her cheeky behavior.

“I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught. The new stable girl.” The redhead said trying to break the awkward silence. Offering her hand for the princess to take, she continued. “And you are… Waverly Earp. Quite a popular girl around here.” She smiled before kissing the back of Waverly’s hand, making the princess blush in the process.

In her life, she had been greeted like that from gentlemen a thousand times, but no one had ever made her feel butterflies in her stomach. Waverly felt so shy and small as Nicole’s soft lips grazed her skin.

“So… why is a princess like you hiding from her perfect life?” Nicole asked letting go of Waverly’s hand.  

“I’m not hiding!” Waverly answered harshly, catching Nicole off guard. “I’m sorry… I’m not usually like this.” She apologized when she noticed the shocked look on the redhead’s face.

“Hey… I get it. No one’s life is perfect.” She reassured her with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, mine’s feeling more like hell than a perfect life lately…” Waverly said more to herself than to Nicole, but the stable girl still heard her loud and clear and gave her a questioning look.

“I’ve spent the past couple of days smiling and waving at lords and princes who came here for the tournament. My father wants me to marry the champion.” She explained with a sigh.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve spent all morning cleaning your stables. Looks like my morning was shittier than yours. Both literally and figuratively.” Nicole joked hoping to lighten Waverly’s mood.  

“Might be hard to believe, but… I kinda envy you.”

“Oh, c’mon, how bad can it be? You get to marry a rich prince, or some brave knight…”

“Most of the men I’ve greeted are like forty years old! And what if I just don’t wanna get married?!” Waverly exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

Couldn’t everyone just leave her be for one freaking minute, and let her choose whether she wanted to get married or not?! All her life, she’d had to be what others expected her to be, but no one ever bothered asking what it was that she really wanted. Willa got to marry a rich prince, yeah, but he was also the man she’d been in love with ever since they were kids. And even Wynonna was given a choice. Okay, it was more of an ultimatum, but still… she wasn’t forced to marry a man twice her age. But what about her? Her father had never given her a chance to find her place in this world. All these years spent trying to be the perfect little girl her family wanted her to be, hoping to enter her father’s graces, and nothing had changed.

“What do you want?” Waverly was taken aback by that question. Nicole was the first person who’d ever asked her that.

“I… I don’t know.” She realized in that moment that she’d never really thought about that question, so used to tailor herself to the people she was with.

“Well, what do you like? There’s gotta be something that’s just… yours. A dream, a wish, a passion…”

“I… I’ve always wanted to see the world, and visit the places I’ve read about in my books. And… and I wanna drink beer at the tavern with my friends, or… hold a sword, a real sword. I wanna travel around with the king’s guard and fight in battles like my sister does. Why does she get to be a hero, while I get to be just…” She trailed off.

“Just what?”

“Me.” Waverly concluded in a sad tone.

“Hey… look, you as you are, are okay. You don’t have to be a hero to be special.” Nicole tried to comfort her by grabbing her hand and giving it a light squeeze.

Waverly looked down at their joined hands for a moment, and then she looked up only to be met by the brightest and warmest smile ever. Nicole was looking at her with so much love and compassion that she felt like she could get lost in those big brown eyes of hers.

“You’re special, baby girl. Don’t ever forget that.”

So far, mama had been the only one to ever call her that.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, until it became too much. Retracting her hand from Nicole’s, Waverly tried to break the awkward silence. “So, hum… what about you? What do you want?” Waverly asked while sitting down on a trunk nearby.

“Me? I’m just a stable girl…”

“And don’t stable girls have dreams too?”

“I should probably get back to work now. Those horses won’t brush themselves.” Nicole said, clearly avoiding the question.

“You know, when I was a little kid I used to come here every day and would spend hours with my horse. But when I turned 14, my father forbade me to come to come to stables. I could still ride my horse if I we had to go somewhere, but he said I wasn’t a kid anymore, and ladies can’t get covered in mud and dust. The only times I can come to the stables are when he’s not at home.”

“So why are you here?”

“I needed a break. And he thinks I’m in the library.”

“I see…” Nicole said, then she got an idea. “Hey, do you wanna help out?”

“Oh, I’d love to! Like… like to. But I can’t.” She tried to correct herself.

What the hell, girl? Get your shit together! She mentally scolded herself. You see one hot girl, and suddenly your brain can’t work anymore? OMG, did she just think Nicole was hot?

She took a deep breath in order to gain some control again, and then she continued explaining. “If I get dirt on my gown, my father’s gonna kill me.”

“I got some spare clothes if you want… you could just get changed.” Nicole offered with a smile. Or was it a smirk?

“It’s not that simple, it took me like 40 minutes to get into this gown.”

“40 minutes, huh? I bet I could get you out of it faster…” Nicole said to herself, but it was still loud enough for Waverly to hear it.

“What?”

“Help. I bet I could help you out of it faster. If… if you wanted to get changed.” She tried to correct herself.

Damn it, Haught! Couldn’t you keep the comment to yourself? This time it was Nicole’s turn to mentally scold herself.

“Right. Hum…” Waverly didn’t really know where to go from there. She had never actually flirted with someone before. Let alone with a woman. She needed an excuse to leave, fast. She couldn’t do this right now. “I… I’d better go back now. Before my father finds out I’m not actually in the library.”

“Sure, yeah. Then maybe some other time.” Nicole smiled at her. “I mean it.” She added with a hint of a smirk.

Waverly smiled briefly at her, and then she turned to leave before the other woman could notice just how bad she was blushing.

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Chapter 2 - The night shift