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#this would also mean ignoring their rules that they put in place to lord over everyone
xtestament · 1 year
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The Most Powerful Lesson From The Movie Merlin That Everyone Has Forgotten
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omgkalyppso · 9 days
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15 Lines of Dialogue
Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.
I was tagged by @dustdeepsea which is very funny because I also tagged them. We are like passing ships in the night, you and I. fgdhfdg
I already did this for Étoile and Faedolyn here. So this time I will do Borgakh. You can press J on desktop to skip this post if it's either too long or gruesome. Some vague gore / body horror / horror descriptions in her dialogue.
I'll also tag @cherrypikkins (yes again. you have all those Kitt supports), @peachiehambo, @bladesandstars, @bhaalbaaby and YOU.
Borgakh
"I did, but perhaps I spoke out of turn. I learned a little from our warband, but… I slowly stopped my questions. Do you honor your dead another way? Was I rude in asking?" - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 1: Arrival
"Well, I have lived here five months now…" she chuckled, "so what is that? Thirteen elf years? Living among them in Halfhill was what synched it for me. I couldn't order pumpkin seeds if I couldn't speak to my local grocer." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 1: Arrival
"For as long as you need. I will hold him," Borgakh promised with a darkness in her voice. - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 2: Broken Chains
"Are you sure? Most ranking members of the Horde want to know: Where were you … during the crossing of the Dark Portal?" He pursed his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but Borgakh plowed forward, her tone more sincere and apologetic. "I was ten when I came to Azeroth. I am entering my fortieth year." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 2: Broken Chains
She raised an eyebrow as she answered, "You make it sound as if I've never had anyone to guide me. Of course I've had mentors: in language, in cooking, in how to hold a bow or dismantle a gun. I am not undisciplined." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 2: Broken Chains
She laughed in response, a heady growl; maybe a little more orcish than he was expecting. Lor'thermar's hands went to his sides, as if to reach for a weapon. Borgakh laughed a little more freely before saluting him. "Get fucked, Regent Lord." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 2: Broken Chains
As soon as her arm came free, she twisted away from him and started untying her remaining restrictions. "I … I also thought to open my wounds." She sat up and turned to look at Lor'themar, eye to eye. "Not to injure myself," she explained, fisting her hands in the sheets on her knees. "I've simply … heard stories of spells and curses being etched into the flesh of my people and then sewn back down so that we are ignorant of their extent and meaning." She looked away again, ashamed. Lor'themar could see the soft twinkling of her eyes through her dark lashes. "I see now that this … was likely paranoia." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 3: Injured
"Then I will die there," she agreed, meeting his eye. "I know this. Just as you must have, once. Your soldiers do." She sighed, "But perhaps your people have the privilege of time, and can expect that if they simply crush that threshold, the remainder of their days can be spent in the walls of Silvermoon or somewhere else far away. Every home I've ever had has been a battlefield. If anyone will ever miss me, it will be in the context of war." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 4: At The Mercy of Responsibility
She reached down between his knees to pluck the brown bottle from his hands, and leaned away to look him in the eye, answering more seriously, "But I know: that you would be ridiculed, and I will have done the opposite of proving my worth here, if we are discovered." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 6: Questions Of Worth
She lapped at his ear and he twitched all over as she whispered, "I'm going to put my mouth on you. If you move too much, you may bleed. That might be pleasurable to you in some places … and certainly not in others." She kissed his ear more seriously, nipping at his ear lobe with the teeth between her tusks as she gave him one last word of warning, "Behave." - On The Isle Of Thunder, Chapter 6: Questions Of Worth
"An orc is an orc is an orc Khadgar; or is Garona not proof enough of that for you?" - In Dalaran
"No, no. Khadgar, tell your mate that if she should ever find herself taken by the Horde, or in another scenario where it might help, that she can ask for me. I'll pay her ransom. I'll fight in her name. Whatever it may be." Borgakh's eyes sort of crossed then as she finished her statement in a whisper, "And … I'll go on hoping never to hear from her." - In Dalaran
“This orc can hold her tongue,” Borgakh answered in chipped elvish, and Ga’el laughed. - Meet Me At The Border, Chapter 2: Reliable, In All Things
"I met a couple from Northern Morning today who didn’t speak a word of elvish. We had a whole conversation in common sign language! I was worried I might have forgotten too much, falling out of practice. It was nice. I hope however you’re talking to people lately that it’s going well!" - This post
“Are the elves under attack?” <- Context for this one. In one of the dnd games Borgakh was a part of, her asking this question and proposing that the elven kingdom was as afraid of something happening with a necromancer raising long dead people from when a continent split and that they weren't simply acting to expand their kingdom at a poorly timed moment when the kingdom we were in was being tormented by this necromancer, prevented a war and apparently changed the trajectory of the campaign (or would have, if it hadn't ended three sessions or so after this).
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 2 years
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𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝙼𝚎 𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎 ~ 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙳𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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Summary: Once, you thought that eternity was kind. She promised you forever by your family's side, of an immortal life filled with nothing but joy and happiness. But kind things can also be cruel, this is proven when Ethan Winters comes knocking on the Castle's doors, taking away the ones you loved most. Now you would trade eternity within a heartbeat, pleading with Death to take you away too. OR In the aftermath of Ethan Winters and his reign of destruction, you miss your family more than words could tell. So to fill the void in your heart you spend the days reminiscing with memories in place of your cruel reality as you wait for the day you could rejoin their side once more.
Warnings: Canonical character death, angst, and suicide. So please be careful!!
Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader as well as Dimitrescu Daughters x Parent!Reader
Notes: Hello!! The first part of this pic I posted a long while back, but I'm posting it as the full version now. This fic is definitely a lot angstier than what I normally write, but because I cannot put these dear characters through too much suffering, I gave them a happy ending, don't you worry! As always, tell me what you think! But besides that, happy reading, lovelies~
In the earliest hours of the morning, when the prospect of light only glimmered from the eerie glow of the moon, the castle as old as time stood tall on the hill overlooking the old village its inhabitants once ruled over. It’s spires still stood tall and ominous as the years passed, invoking fear in anyone that happened to pass by, the hard stone walls now littered with holes in its age. The windows were dusty now, but every so often the light liked to play tricks, depicting a lone shadow drifting by.
But that was all imaginary, it had been a long time since anyone had truly lived in this castle, even longer since anyone lived in the village, all of it was now a distant dream in the back of your mind.
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Long ago, this village was a happy one. It was ruled by Mother Miranda alongside four powerful Lords who were just and true. Like any village however, it too had its secrets, and perhaps this one had the darkest secrets of them all.
But the inhabitants were none the wiser, they lived content with the lives they were given. Their bellies were full, their houses warm, all courtesy of the kind Lords that reigned over them. There were disappearances at times, hungry man-eating beasts that roamed the perimeter, but that of course was normal right? How could it not be, when for the villagers it was all they knew. All that mattered was that they lived to see another day and that they were happy.
Perhaps the happiest were the inhabitants of Castle Dimitrescu, the stunning castle just past the boundaries of villagers' homes. Its head was the fair Lady Dimitrescu who was as tall as she was beautiful despite the rumours that she lived off of the blood of the girls who disappeared from the village. With her came 3 daughters just as beautiful, albeit bloodthirsty with a penchant for chaos wherever they went.
Daniela, the youngest, was perhaps the most chaotic, the most cruel, but that came with being the youngest child did it not? Free reign to do whatever you’d like without consequence. Cassandra, the middle child, with the tendency to be as messy as she was calculated, her next moves unpredictable which made you fear her all the more. And Bela, the eldest child who was wise beyond her years, but that did not mean she was any better than her sisters, if anything it made her more terrifying because with one look she could understand you better than you could understand yourself.
And yet there was a hidden depth to them that only you could see, a kindness to these four inhabitants that only you were lucky enough to know as time went on because you decided to ignore the rumours to truly know them.
You, the loving wife to the matriarch and the mother to your three sweet, sweet girls.
It was funny how you came to arrive at Castle Dimitrescu, traipsing in through the doors like the foolish tourist you were. Typically intruders would be chased around before inevitably being brought to the cellar, killed and drained of all their blood. And yet...something about you was different, and Alcina could see that even if she didn’t quite know what.
Little did you both know you would grow close and fall into a love like the fairytales of your childhood despite being from two completely different worlds. Little did you know you would one day carry the Dimitrescu name and become part of a family you held so dearly to your heart.
Of course, every story has its villains, the dragon guarding the castle, the witches and their potions.
In the beginning, you thought you would live in bliss forever, every day glowing brighter than the last with the joy it brought. But one day the Hunter’s Association thought they could test their luck against your family, and that day Lady Luck was almost on their side.
You don’t think you could ever forget the fear you felt that day, Cassandra almost completely solidified to stone, unmoving like a corpse, with Bela desperately clutching onto her sister as she began freezing herself. You don’t think you could forget the anger you felt either as four men stood over them, ready to strike the killing blow to your precious daughters in fear of what they didn’t understand. Simply because your daughters had a nature that was out of their control.
With a sword in your hand you flew forward, all self-preservation lost to the wind, replaced with a sense of fierce protectiveness to protect the daughters that were not technically yours, but yours all the same ever since you showed an unending kindness despite knowing what they did to survive.
With severe strikes with your sword, you almost came out victorious, but not before almost losing your life to an unsuspected blow to your side. However with Mother Miranda and the cadou, you were reborn with new powers; fire breathing butterflies almost like your daughters, all marked with the familiar golden eyes of your family.
After coming through, you finally married Alcina, saying your vows within the walls of the Castle and promising yourselves to each other in a ceremony of fluttering roses and glittering gowns. That was the day you truly became a Dimitrescu. From that day forth it was supposed to only be filled with joy and happiness with your beloved family, for all eternity.
Until he came along.
Ethan Winters, the doting father who would stop at nothing to get his daughter back.
No one knew what Miranda was up to until that fateful meeting, where each Lord was tasked to bring back a part of Rose to their domain for safekeeping until the ceremony took place, the one to bring back Miranda’s beloved daughter Eva.
Alcina could understand where Miranda was coming from, you as well. Your daughters were so precious to you both, you already almost lost them once, if you ever truly lost them you don’t know what yourself. So preparations for the ceremony went forward.
Everyone expected the ceremony to proceed without issue, for what could stop immortal beings more powerful than gods? It was why you went on a business trip out of town as scheduled, wine business was no small feat after all.
No one expected Ethan to be as persistent as he was, him being a mere human and all. But like a snake he slithered quietly, creeping up on his prey, his victims unknowing until they were trapped in his jaws and swallowed down.
One by one he took each of your family members out while you were none the wiser, your loved ones falling to the hands of this, this manthing while you could do nothing in retaliation.
What you didn’t know was that each of them called out for you as they perished, their bodies drifting away with the wind leaving nothing but a statue behind.
“Mama, please!”
“Mama I don’t... want to... die”
“I’m sorry...mama”
“I love you my darling if only I could say it one last time...”
If only their voices could have carried over the wind too, maybe then could you all still be living together happily as it should have been.
No. What happened was that you came back to a quiet village. Not even the crows were brave enough to cry out, all you were met with was pure utter silence.
In a flurry you rushed home after seeing the destruction, forgoing the horse you rode and instead swarming in a flurry of fiery red butterflies. Bursting through the doors you called out desperately for anyone only to be met with no reply.
“ALCINA!!! DANIELA!!! BELA!!! CASSANDRA!!! PLEASE, ANYONE!!”
You called out to the high heavens, desperately flying around in search of your beloved family amidst the destruction of the place you called home. And one by one you did find them, dead and left behind, solidified to stone and freezing them in their final moments.
Daniela was the first you found, her statue left behind in the library she loved to frequent so often. At the sight you collapsed in front of her, tears streaming down your face as you tried to choke down your sobs. With shaky hands you reached up, cradling her face in your hands as delicately as you could. As if with a mere breath the last remnants of her would too float away.
“Oh, my poor baby...my sweet sweet Daniela, I’m...so sorry”
Gently you gathered her into your arms, knowing she was already gone even though you wished it wasn’t true. As carefully as you could, you carried her down to the Hall of the Four.
This place once held such fond memories, it’s where your wedding ceremony took place after all. And now...now it was your family’s final resting place because deep down you knew that one by one you’ll find your two other daughters and your loving wife in the same state.
Without care you swept away the old bust that sat there, not even blinking as it crashed down to the floor, marble going everywhere. Already your mind was going numb with the anguish you felt, there was nothing left to live for if your loved ones were dead. Floating up, you pressed a kiss to her forehead before setting off once more.
Mindlessly you swept across the castle, finding each statue one by one. You found Bela next, her statue in a similar pose to Daniela. And just like her, you cradled Bela in your arms as well, holding her close to your chest as you whispered softly despite the fact that she would never hear your words.
“I’m sorry Bela, I know you tried your best...you can rest now my darling”
Just like Daniela, you carried Bela’s solidified body down to the Hall of the Four, placing her down as delicately as you could and not allowing any pieces to crumble away any further before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
Cassandra was the most difficult to find although you weren’t surprised, it would be Cassandra who would put up the biggest fight. When you eventually came across her body in the armoury you let out a humourless laugh, of course she would be here. If there was anywhere in the Castle she loved, it would be the armoury.
“Oh, Cassie... You put up quite the fight, didn’t you, my sweet girl. I’m...sorry I couldn’t protect you as I did before.”
Making your way back, you placed your final daughter’s statue down on the plinth, placing a kiss on Cassandra’s forehead as well before collapsing, the task taking everything out of you. It was like that nightmare you lived through all those years before...except this time around your deepest fears came true. Your daughters were truly gone, and there was nothing you could do about it.
Taking in a deep breath you hardened yourself as best you could because you knew the moment you saw Alcina only then would you truly break. That this horrific day was really true and that everyone was gone.
There was one place you didn’t look yet in your search, the tall tower that hardly anyone ever went to anymore, just past the Hall of the Four, the tower of the Dimitrescu family crypt. You knew it held the Dagger of Death’s Flowers, the only thing that could truly kill your wife once and for all, and considering the fact that she was not at your side this very moment...you knew that was where she would be.
On shaky legs, you pushed yourself up to your feet before flying forward with nothing but heartbreak on your mind.
It wasn’t difficult to follow the trail of destruction the battle left behind, the rubble and blood creating a path ascending the tower up to the very top. You took your time climbing the steps, not swarming which would be the faster alternative. As if to torture your mind even more, you tried to imagine the fight your wife put up in her final moments until eventually reaching the top, finding the massive hole Alcina’s dragon form left behind.
Deep in the darkness, you could see her crystallized corpse laying there, her soul long carried away by the God of Death. Closing your eyes, you will your body turn into butterflies allowing you to float down gently before reforming in front of her.
The moment you laid eyes upon her you fell apart, loud sobs echoing through the silent room as you held her close. You felt as though you were burning up from the inside out, hotter than your flames could ever take you in the midst of your heart tearing apart, reality finally settling in.
Whispers of happier times played through your head, a mockery in the face of the loss, what a cruel hand fate has dealt.
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“Mama! Come play with us! I promise we’ll play fairly this time,” Daniela said with a laugh, a mischievous look in her eyes.
“Would you...like to come by the Opera Hall today, mama? I’ve been practicing something I thought you might like” Bela asked shyly.
“Let’s go on a walk, Mama! The flowers are in bloom and I think this year they are the most beautiful yet,” Cassandra said with a happy smile as she pulled you along by the hand.
“I love you, and I will continue to love you more and more as the days grow to weeks, weeks to months, months to years until forever runs out of time,” Alcina vowed.
“By you, I think I am forever undone. I am bound to you as you are to me. For all eternity.” You said in turn. For all eternity.
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Eternity didn’t seem to be so long, you thought bitterly now as you carried Alcina back in your arms, having cried out the last of your tears of day until tomorrow inevitable came. Tomorrow without them by your side...
A single tear fell from your eye as you walked back across the bridge. What did you have left now? Mere statues that would never amount to anything near the real thing, and whispers of memories that seemed oh so distant now. Only days ago were you happily eating dinner in the dining room, lighthearted conversation ringing out. Only days ago did you last fall asleep in Alcina’s arms after the throes of passion in her embrace. Only days ago were you reading a book to your daughters as they clung to your every word, cuddled close as Alcina looked on with fond eyes. And now here you were, placing their corpses on plinths that never should have been theirs. They should be here, WITH YOU. But instead, you were here, all by yourself, until the gentle hands of Death carried you away too.
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That horrible day was a few years past now, and you were only a ghost of who you once were. You would float mindlessly through the halls, and if you imagined hard enough, you could pretend that they were still there. That Daniela was fooling around with Cassandra. That Bela was playing piano down the hall, the soft tune making its way across the castle. That Alcina was walking to you with open arms, ready to meet you with her embrace. But blink once and the illusion fell apart, the cold reality in its place.
Immortality was cruel now that you thought about it, even if in the beginning it came to you with promises of forever with the ones you loved. Lose them and it is no longer kind. No matter what you tried, Death would look you straight in the face and with a shake of their head deem it was not yet your time. So instead you were forced to live on, suffering in the silence, sipping only the tiniest of drops of Sanguis Virginis to sustain a hunger just short of unbearable. That too was cruel, having to live off of the very wine whose business trip kept you from saving your own family. But it’s not like you had a choice, there were no more maidens left in the village to drink from after all.
But no more, today was the day you die, you thought as you clutched the Dagger of Death’s Flowers in your hands, finally found after searching for years through the rubble of that day.
Finally, you could grasp Death’s hand and join your family in the afterlife.
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With a shaky breath, you looked at each of the statues that stood before you, their expressions forever frozen in time depicting the final scenes of their lives stories. Every time you step foot in this room, a cold eerie feeling washes over you, and yet...there was a pull that connected to your very soul. It called to you just like your family once had when they were alive, and served as a dull reminder that they were now gone.
You could only describe it as a whisper, one so soft you could hardly make out the words, but it raised the hairs on your neck and made shivers run down your spine. It was like the room still glowed with a spark of life, and despite the eeriness, it still felt...safe. Cold yet warm all the while.
Tonight was no different, the everlasting feeling always present, and yet somehow...something had changed. You just didn’t quite know what.
Gently you let go of the dagger, placing it down by your side at least for the time being before standing to your feet and floating slowly across the room.
Taking your time, you walk amongst the looming fingers of the hall, the tips of your fingers grazing the statues ever so gently, lovingly, longingly. Closing your eyes you could almost feel them there. Oh, your darling daughters... How you wished you you could’ve saved them, no parent should have to ever see their child die in their lifetime after all. But your wishes were nothing more than words lost to the wind, the passage of time inevitable and irreversible.
Eventually, you reached the statue that stood at the very forefront of the hall, having rearranged them a long time ago. It was only fair that Alcina was at the head of the family in death just as she was in life.
Alcina, your beloved wife, how she looked truly beautiful even in death, her crystallized corpse preserved forever. If only you could have kissed her plush lips, whispered words of love in the air between you one last time. The lanterns made her glow a fiery gold, even more ethereal than usual and almost... alive, as though the light would breathe them into life.
You floated around Alcina slowly, your now tattered dress flowing behind you and making you look like a ghost of the stories your daughters loved so much. To anyone looking in, it was a chilling sight. A phantom in search of something she didn’t quite know yet, mysterious and unearthly.
Shaking your head, you decided something wasn’t right.
“Alcina always preferred the light of the moon,” you whispered softly to yourself.
Throwing out your hands you cast your butterflies out, pulling open the doors of the hall to the outside world. The moment the doors bust open you pull back, the red butterflies returning to you in a flurry of fluttering wings and fire. With that, the cold winter air blew in and snuffed the lights out, replacing them was the eerie glow of the moon that bathed the room in a cool light.
In that moment all of a sudden the world distorts, changing quickly as you struggle to keep your balance as everything spins around you. It almost felt like you had been twirling to a song as you once had long ago, then lost your balance only to fall down staring into the moon. It was all too much at once then all of a sudden, calm.
Blinking slowly, you try to clear the blurriness of the room that was reminiscent of the moments you spent at the cusp of life and death after your injury. No longer in the present Hall of the Four, you were cast back to the Hall of your past on the happiest day of your life; your wedding day.
“I promise to give you everything you deserve and more because only when you have the world in the palm of your hands will it be worthy enough for someone as wonderful as you.” Alcina’s voice echoed, the low timbre of her voice one you missed so dearly.
“I vow to be the sun to you as you are my moon, to light up your sky with light as you do my night,” you heard, your own voice echoing back to you in the distant void of your mind.
“As a sign of my love that I have chosen you above all else, with this ring, I thee wed” your voices echo together unanimously.
Trying to ease the pounding of your heart you clutch your chest, falling unceremoniously down to your knees as you stare at the band of roses sitting on your ring finger, the scene playing out in front of your eyes once more.
It was...so odd. It was like you were in a dream even as you lay awake, the edges blurred but the memory bright. Out of the corner of your eye you spot something by your feet, a single black rose tied off with a pale pink ribbon, so out of place in the scene.
The site left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, oh how Alcina so dearly loved roses. After she died you couldn’t stand the sight of them for so long, they reminded you too much of all you had lost...
You moved down to pick up the rose in curiosity, but right as you’re about to touch it the world distorts around you once more and with a sharp inhale the Hall of the Four returns to the present.
“What on Earth...” you whispered quietly to yourself. But deep down you knew that this is what had been calling to you from this room after all this time. The answer...or at least the first step towards it. The whispers of the past, that memory, that was proof of it.
Glancing back up to the statues you study Alcina’s crystallized form intently, searching, her features just as they were all those years ago. Those soft lips that had kissed you so tenderly, the crow’s feet that crinkled so preciously as she smiled at you, the slight dimples accompanying her grins, the eyes that held that gentle fondness when she was home. All these things you had studied a thousand times before, and would continue to do for the rest of eternity if only you could.
Emotions began bubbling in your throat and your eyes began to fill with tears as overwhelming feelings hit you like a tidal wave, the yearning to be with Alcina again so unbearable you collapse to your knees and banged harshly against the floor.
Unbeknownst to you, out of sight moonlight began collecting into a large ball at the back of the room, panning out like a wave that washed over the entire room before collecting into a single point; Alcina’s statue.
With a gasp you scramble backwards in fear, watching with wide eyes as the pale light absorbed into her crystallized form, the statue glittering like the stars.
Then all of a sudden Alcina moved.
It was a single twitch of her finger, almost imperceptible had you not been watching so intently. Then a slow blink, Alcina look around and absorbed her surroundings for a moment before her eyes fell on you still sitting on the floor in shock.
The moment your eyes met you felt your heartstrings tug as Alcina’s eyes softened as they always did when she looked at you, a broken sob trapped in your throat at the familiarity.
Slowly her hand moved upwards, gaining more fluidity as she moved. Gingerly her fingertips pressed against her throat as if she was testing something. Then, she spoke.
“Darling,” Alcina whispered like she herself couldn’t even believe it to be true. Her voice just as tender and warm as it was in your memories.
“A-Alcina? Is this true...” you whispered just as softly, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I. The universe can’t be as kind as to bring you back to me after all this time.”
“No, I... I think I’m real, my love. Somehow destiny seems to have allowed us to meet once more in this lifetime,” she said, a saddened smile forming on her lips, “it has been too long, my little dove.”
Slowly you stood up, approaching Alcina with hesitant steps like any sudden movement would make you wake up from this dream that was too good to be true. Yearning for her touch you reached out your hand, Alcina mirroring your action. Even at the slightest brush of your fingertips her touch still felt like sparks of lightning, awakening that part of your soul you thought you had lost the day they died.
Swallowing down a sob you rushed upwards with your powers and into her open arms, and for a moment the world fell away as you both relished in the feeling of holding each other, two lost souls reunited after so many years. You had drifted past their statues every single time you had been in this hall, and for the first time you understood why there was a sense of comfort amongst the numbness.
“I...I don’t understand. How...?” you asked softly, cupping Alcina’s cheek in your hand.
“It seems some divine power was merciful tonight, maybe even Selene herself,” Alcina says, her eyes growing distant as she looks up at the shining full moon at its peak just past the doors of the hall. “Perhaps she found our relationship to be not so unlike her own.”
Selene, the Goddess of the Moon, fated to fall for the mortal Endymion. For an eternal love he traded mortality for eternal sleep, so they could see each other at least in their dreams forevermore. You were more than familiar with the story, it was one of the girls’ favourites after all. They too had suffered the price of eternity, just as you and your family had.
Your lower lip wobbled at the thought and in response Alcina ran her thumb over it soothingly before brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear.
“Do not cry my darling, we should enjoy the moments we were granted, if only fleeting.”
You huffed out a small incredulous laugh. “How could only a short moment be enough for me when we promised each other ‘until forever runs out of time’?” you say, your voice broken as tears streamed down your face. “When we promised each other eternity?”
Alcina paused in her motions, a sad smile on her face before she pulls you close and kissed you tenderly. Her lips were cold but somehow left you feeling just as warm as they once did all that time before, lighting you up from the inside out and glowing even brighter than your fiery butterflies. You kiss for a little while before she pulls away, the familiar taste of her lips still remaining.
“We have a love that transcends universes, my sweet girl. Even if we are separated by the realms of life and death the strings of our love will remain forever, unfading,” she said, her knuckles gently brushing away the tears that continued to flow.
You say nothing at her words. Even if they were true, it didn’t make your reality any less cruel. All of a sudden you remember the Dagger of Death’s Flowers laying on the ground behind you, its promises of a reunion with those you loved most whispering into your ear.
“What if...what if I wanted to join your side, Alcina?” you say, beckoning the dagger over with your powers, the cool blade held in your hands between the two of you.
Alcina flinches back slightly; she knew what this dagger meant for you and you knew she knew.
“I...Darling. With the cadou there are very few things that cause beings like us pain, but that dagger...” she winces, “I have known no pain like that in my life. The poison soaks into your bloodstream, the feeling like liquid fire, your mind lost in a cloud of agony. This cannot be the way you go,” she insists, her eyes pleading.
“NO!” you say before surprising yourself at your tone, Alcina is surprised too as her eyes widened. “no,” you say more softly. “Alcina you don’t understand, I have nothing to live for anymore on this Earth, not when you, not when our daughters are all gone. I can’t live another day without you. Please.” You beg.
“I’ve...I’ve tried everything at this point, Alcina,” you whisper brokenly, “I don’t know what else to do. At this point I’ll live forever and I cannot bear that burden. I thought I could, and for a little while, I truly did. But then my mind began playing tricks on me, made me believe that you all were still by my side. But the moment I reached out you would disappear like a ghost, and every time that happened I lost another part of myself.”
“I would become an empty shell of who I once was,” you say softly, “Immortality means nothing if you’re alone.”
“Perhaps in a kinder world we could have been reunited in other lifetimes, find reborn versions of ourselves and fall all over again as soulmates do,” Alcina says, seemingly to herself.
But our reality is not so kind. This is the only way we can be together again, Alcina please, you must understand. I have to do this.”
Alcina only sighs. She knew better than to try and argue with you once you made up your mind, for better or for worse. It’s how you got your powers after all.
“I just can’t bear to see you go through the pain as I had, my love,” she said, a pained smile across her face. You knew how difficult it was for Alcina to see you hurt, those days when you were bedridden recovering from a hunter’s stab wound a nightmare come to life for her.
“That pain is nothing compared to the agony of having to live this life without you by my side. Our love calls me to you but the veil between our worlds is too far a chasm I cannot cross unless I do this.” You say, your tone final.
“If that is your decision...then I cannot say I don’t also long for the day I could truly hold you in my arms once more. I just wish you could go more easily,” she says, a hand smoothing over your hair comfortingly.
“I’ll be alright, Alcina,” you smile up at her, “I’ll rejoin you and the girls soon.” She only hums at that, then all of a sudden her motions become stiffer, more difficult. Almost like a clockwork doll she moved, an unknown force slowing her down. Your eyes widen in panic but Alcina only looks resigned to her fate.
“It seems our time is up, my darling. At least for now,” Alcina says, a woeful look in her eyes. Despite the fact you knew you would see her again soon your eyes still welled up with tears.
“I guess the Gods decided I needed to lose you one more time,” you chuckle sadly.
“Only for a little while,” she says, her smile bittersweet as she leans down to press one last kiss to your forehead.
“Only for a little while,” you repeat. “I love you Alcina, for all eternity.” Her eyes soften one last time before the light falls from her body, dispersing like little stars throughout the room before disappearing as she becomes a statue once more.
For a little while all you could do is cry as you clutch onto her, any comfort this room had brought you these past few years gone just as Alcina had. But eventually you calm down, wiping the tears from your face and sniffling lightly.
Clutching the hilt of the dagger you go out the double doors and over the broken bridge. For a moment you just float there looking over the icy ruins of the village one last time. The cold winter air billowed around you as you soaked in the light of Selene’s moon. Oh, what a chilling sight it was, but no less beautiful. And with one last breath you close your eyes and take the plunge, your body at the precipice of the veil for a millisecond before your soul joins the realm of the dead at long last.
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
The crackling of a fire, soft humming accompanying the sound as gentle fingers tangled in your hair and blearily you’re opening your eyes. The site you’re met with almost makes your heart burst from your chest. Familiar gold staring into the fiery gold of your own, and before you know it you’re rushing into Alcina’s arms. No more statues, no more empty castles, just Alcina and her warm touch.
“Hello again, my darling. So we finally meet once more,” she says so simply, eyes brimming with overflowing joy.
“So we do,” you barely make out before her lips are capturing your own in a passionate kiss, incessantly pulling you closer and closer like it would never be enough.
Then the doors are bursting open and a flurry of flies come through. Your darling daughters always did forget to knock, you thought amusedly. In an instant you’re tackled onto the bed in a mess of limbs as your daughters cry out for the mama they had missed so dearly after all this time, and there you go crying all over again.
Finally...you were truly home.
A/N: I'm sorry, Tumblr's post formatting makes me want to bash my head in sometimes hgfjkdhgfkdjghfd.
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horizon-verizon · 9 months
Note
Rhaenyra got usurped because like a classic princeling she just sat and waited for what’s owed to her to be given to her with no complaints or arguments, without putting in any effort of building connections and showing herself as responsible and capable as a ruler. She was handed a bad hand, true, and Aegon II was much like her in his lack of much effort, tact and humility, and he DID have it easier just because he was born a man. But Rhaenyra did NOT help the matter with her idiotic decisions. At the end of the day, she was just as cruel and horrible as her brother.
I really, really hope this is about the original story and not HotD. I'm going to treat it that way and any ask that doesn't specify or give very good clues this way. I have multiple posts about why Rhaenyra goes to Dragonstone, or just her in Dragonstone.
*This POST focuses more on whether I think she should have continued to rule after what happens with Nettles*
This POST gets into women-being-leaders both how real-life contemporaries looked at female leadership, how modern history writers regarded those contemporaries and their own conclusion, and real-life women with autonomous rank/governing power
These posts go into GRRM's writing of Rhaenyra as well as other notes about her leadership: POST #1, POST #2, POST #3, POST #4, POST #5, POST #6, POST #7, POST #8--esp Section B, C, & D (all address Rhaenyra's rulership and has more quotes supporting what I will say below)
This other POST from way back has me talking about what Rhaenyra could have done BUT in the current post, I will point out to you how you, anon, decided to define Rhaenyra's culpability (section D).
But because I am not tired and for the sake of cohesion...
A.
Viserys was the one to order Rhaenyra to stay in Dragonstone for an undisclosed amount of time after the Vhagar claim/Aemond-eye incident. Quote "Heirs of the Dragon -- A Question of Succession":
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I imagine that Rhaenyra continued to stay and used Viserys' order because Dragonstone had become her place.
B.
What do you think Rhaenyra was doing at Dragonstone, exactly? You understand that Dragonstone is the seat of the heir to the throne, the place they have domestic and lordship rights over, the place where they would go with whatever families they have to rule over its surrounding peoples? So no, Rhaenyra didn't do "nothing", she ruled Dragonstone and took care of its businesses as other lords and ladies do their own households and vassalages.
Rhaenyra didn't just go to Dragonstone to escape Alicent's undermining her and targeting her kids, though that is a large reason why. Only a person who refuses to give her or a character they decided to dislike forever wouldn't give her the grace of believing that she herself figured that going to Dragonstone was also good for her to actually learn to be a ruler, have others refer to her (instead of Viserys) for most major decisions in her domains, and have that Alicent/green block removed from her performing said governance. Not only did Alicent outrank her as Queen Consort, Alicent, again, has been plotting against her since she was a child of 10 and gathering/having followers in court even before the 111 tourney where Rhaenyra comes out in red and black (the renaming of the respective factions). Those courtiers also would have not just tittered at Rhaenyra, ignored or make subtle jokes and comments at her expense for Viserys to not understand or hear--since she was a child of 10--they also could serve to survey Rhaenyra's movements or such to report to Alicent for favors (not as real spies, but watching her nevertheless). Watch any good court intrigue drama, and you should know what I mean if you can't paint a picture or imagine what court society would be like.
Now, you still might protest and say to me, "Fire and Blood is an unreliable narrative, how do you know all of this is true?!"
This shows two things:
you didn't bother to click the first link to the post with the quotes I wrote way above. In there, I gave dates as well, to track what the text is telling us about the development of the relationship between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and what happened after Alicent birthed Aegon. You can still come to strong conclusions in some parts of the narrative, especially using context and how it chooses to relate the information
you're being hypocritical: the narrative is unreliable...so you, who have formed a strong conclusion about Rhaenyra's character versus Aegon, didn't come to that conclusion using the same text or reading the book? somehow the way I or others who disagree with you are wrong...despite all of us getting our ideas from the same sources? I however, am presenting quotes and being specific, bringing the sociopolitical context and history to show you and others why I think the way I think
C.
This POST goes into the Shepherd's role in the final riots
Maelor's death is not on Rhaenyra, as she never mistreated him or even did what Maegor did to Viserys (Aenys I and Alyssa Velaryon's son/Maegor's nephew). Maelor was safer in the Red Keep than he was out of it, but Larys Strong's attempt to get him out and remove Rhaenyra's advantage over the greens.
It is after the Tumbleton Sackings and the Two Betrayers PLUS Corlys enabling Addam to flee that we have the Shepherd show up:
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We know that Larys was also likely responsible for most of the common-born malice against Rhaenyra before the Shepherd came into the scene, even with Mushroom being the one to bring this up.
he was the master of whispers for part of Viserys' reign and Aegon's stint before her capturing KL's (he knows how to use public perception and human psychology as well as was able to discover and use information)
he was the one who enabled Aegon to escape
Larys almost immediately comes out of whatever hole he was hiding in after she died
Quote #1:
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Quote #2:
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When one is in the middle of a war or the immediate aftermath of one, there's always going to be criticism of their rule from the fear of lack of food, shelter, ability to perform commerce (commoners), or the compensation of some political privileges and restoration of lands (nobles). People of every class even looked at the young Jaehaerys I askance after Maegor's cruelty and Jaehaerys' age--if Jaehaerys would even be able to address their needs or grow into a capable ruler.
D.
You: "Aegon II was much like her in his lack of much effort, tact and humility"
1)
Even if we stayed with your "admittance", if Rhaenyra = Aegon in bad leadership, why do you harangue Rhaenyra more than Aegon? Because you think that the enthusiasm and/or sympathy for her is unjustified?
I already addressed how Rhaenyra actually did more than Aegon ever did in her place at Dragonstone. Other than that, did you forget that Viserys had her sit at council meetings when she was his--and only his--cupbearer? Since she was 8 years old?
At eight, the princess was placed into service as a cupbearer…but for her own father, the king. At table, at tourney, and at court, King Viserys thereafter was seldom seen without his daughter by his side. ("A Question of Succession")
No, this is not comprehensive training, education, or preparation as Jaehaerys I would have had for his two eldest sons, but Viserys is at least putting in that effort. More than he had for Aegon...because he never wanted Aegon to rule. Ever. And her sitting in and being present while the councilmen speak of their plans and concerns lets her be familiar with the priorities of those people as well as the perspectives of the nobles and commoners she anticipated ruling. She had ears.
Also, you acknowledge that Aegon didn't do jack before getting crowned...but you totally ignore how he:
sexually assaulted many servant girls (do not try to minimize the "fondling", even if you do not believe he raped others. Fondling servant girls because you're bored still shows you do not care about others' emotions or boundaries, that you feel entitled to their bodies)
tried to imprison his council members when they disagreed with him, how he dismissed Otto and made Criston Cole his Hand
decided that going into battle on dragonback (instead of just Aemond-Vhagar) was a good idea and almost got killed for it
decided that threatening the granddaughter of a man who gave him sound advice of NOT antagonizing remnant opposers further was a good idea
almost mutilated his nephew to put off said opposers
How does any of this in any way compare to any of Rhaenyra's actions--or lack thereof--that usually come up when criticizing her? The ones I seriously criticize her for the most are Rosby and Stokeworth and how she interpreted Daemonand Nettles' relationship, and how she wanted to handle Nettles. In the second link I gave way above, I list out what I think she could have done to establish herself more against Alicent even from Dragonstone, but this has more to do with strategy than morality, which are NOT the same! Meanwhile, it seems you tried to make it that way with how you pushed forward that last sentence after all your problems with her "refusing" to socialize herself amongst the nobles, etc. Why do you think Rhaenyra is in any way "equal" to Aegon's actual evil character? Did she rape or fondle people? Did she punish Corlys for saying that she should have been the one for not going to confront the green army at Rook's Rest? Why does he have to be "better" than a person who is objectively inferior to most people?
No, it is specifically when she is BETRAYED by those she gave power to, after she loses children in violent, preventable conflicts that Rhaenyra begins to unravel and her paranoia grows. Aegon went crazy from the jump.
Aside from you ignoring how terrible and worse of a general human being Aegon is, he was also much less worthy to be a potential leader who went out of his way to be an actual menace to lowborn people, as well as his own Faith/highborn council members. He does not seek to build connections and rather did all he could do to destroy any well-wishing or favor for himself once he came more into the forefront of the story. He showed absolutely no desire or concern about what he could do with the power he took for other human beings' quality of life or personal satisfaction.
Where is the concern for how Aegon should and how he does/does use "tact", or concern for how he refuses to have "humility"? Do you realize that the lack of concern for him and his actions in themselves results in reaffirming his male privilege to just inherit his maleness alone? Because it makes any and all of Rhaenyra's actual or hypothetical actions meaningless in the face of how little he actually has to do to be considered "capable"?
2)
You: "without putting in any effort of building connections and showing herself as responsible and capable as a ruler."
I find it interesting that you seem to acknowledge that Rhaenyra should be doing more than Aegon, especially to ingratiate herself with other nobles or assure them that she is a good ruler AND allow that Aegon to do nothing but be male for those same nobles (who you have simultaneously lumped together into this Aegon-preferring mass). Why should Rhaenyra have to put in more effort to even be considered "responsible" or "capable" when Aegon is even less so AND historically the Westerosi lords and ladies all already have this idea that female leadership is inherently less favorable than male leadership, that women are simply less trustworthy? If we are talking about Rhaenyra before she moves to Dragonstone, before years pass with her as the official heir with everyone getting used to their being said future Queen, and hypothetically Aegon actually put in the smallest bit of effort, these lords and ladies would prefer him even if he just visited a few households. If Rhaenyra put in the exact same amount of effort, they would likely suggest or hint at Viserys to put Aegon forward BECAUSE HE IS MALE AND NOT BECAUSE HE ACTUALLY SHOWS TO BE A GOOD RULER.
It seems you fooled yourself into thinking that either you or some of these people are actually looking for "capability" or "responsibility" from Rhaenyra. Leadership as a concept is masculine to these people, similar to how real-life contemporaries of European territories saw female leadership.
This is a quote from an essay talking about how contemporaries saw women in autonomous power:
In medieval times a woman could not bear arms; therefore a woman could not take on a role which, even symbolically, required her to carry arms. In medieval times a woman who took on an overt military role was an aberration. Lyon, A. (2006). "The place of women in European royal succession in the middle ages."
For some people in-text and those reading the book, she will never be enough. Should she forever ingratiate herself once she comes across this block, or continue on and use her dragons? Would you say the same for Aegon V and his laws that enhanced the lives of the smallfolk by whittling down on ancient aristocratic rights & privileges? What about Jaehaerys and his marrying Alysanne despite sibling marriage being forbidden and reviled in the Faith (and most of Westeros being of the Faith except the North and the Ironborn)?
What you are really looking for is live "proof" that she--and women in general--her womanhood can never conform to that concept of leadership that Aegon can easily adopt even just by doing nothing.
3)
You: "Rhaenyra got usurped because like a classic princeling she just sat and waited for what’s owed to her to be given to her with no complaints or arguments".
If Aegon is a "classic princeling", then do you have the same disgust for every other prince (male princeling) in the whole of Targ history who expects to be king or at least one heir's heir?
Already go into how Aegon doesn't need to do much as a prince. This focus on Rhaenyra not having some sort of aristocratic feeling of entitlement is crazy. Yes, she expected others to fall in line with Viserys' wishes...because he is King and she is the official heir.
If you try to argue that a monarch or any leader must take into consideration the perceptions, traditions, and mindsets of those they rule to make their subjects more amenable to their rule--thus you have more confidence in ruling and your position is more secure--you also have to acknowledge three things about the Westerosi feudalism and the 1000s old-traditions & ideologies toward gender roles and succession:
the lord/lady's chosen heir is considered the one with the strongest claim/expected to rule next
the eldest is first up in the succession and is the primary/first claimant (royal or noble)
as I said, these people live with the overarching idea that men make better rulers because they comparatively were more entrusted with power and authority over others
Even with the anxiety around illegitimate children, there are other possible claimants, this one element of feudal succession in Westeros remains true. Visery had the privilege of naming a child his heir, and she happened to be both his eldest and female. And there have been ladies/queens in pre-Targ history that ruled in their own right. Lady Jeyne Arryn is not modern exception to a modern moment in Westerosi history.
The lords and ladies of Westeros did not have any excuse to doubt Rhaenyra even with:
the Queen Dowager Rhaena passed over for Jaehaerys and her other brother Aegon (who was also her husband)
the Council of 101 setting that precedent of male primogeniture (very important link)
Jaehaerys I being one of the better Targ kings of Westeros (Alysanne is not only described as equal in "intelligence" to any man--again that male=better and men have intelligence mentality--would have been even better, as it is she and Septon Barth who put the ideas or presented some of the problems Jaehaerys reformed -> but because she was younger than him; the lords' immediate desire of a claimant to finally rally against Maegor for was specifically for a male heir; and she became Queen Consort instead of Queen Regnant when Jaehaerys subsumed her claim by marrying her, she could not rule in her own right)
Therefore, I must reiterate how their only gripe was that she was female and not because she was legitimately worse than Aegon as a candidate. Which she wasn't.
4)
You: "But Rhaenyra did NOT help the matter with her idiotic decisions. At the end of the day, she was just as cruel and horrible as her brother."
I already spoke about her decisions regarding Stokeworth and Rosaby, Nettles, the rioting's origins, and the greens taking the gold in the treasury that leads to Rhaenyra being unable to pay for most needs for the KLers. If not in this post, in the ones I linked at the very top of this post.
Quote -- "Rhaenyra Triumphant":
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Another hint at Aegon's and the greens' lack of care for non-noble or noble subjects that you somehow designated only to Rhaenyra...
I always find it hilarious when the phrase "at the end of the day" precedes a sentence that has little to do with the preceding ideas the person presented. In the text of your ask, Rhaenyra's cruelty and "horribleness" had nothing to do with your past claims of her being "idiotic" or spoiled. It came out of left field, and it is as if you're trying to smush all of the reasons for your dislike towards her into one without losing space, or you're trying to throw that last bit in there for extra emphasis, not knowing how to really create emphasis. Like a misinformed child who just remembered their last complaint.
*EDIT* (8/21/23):
THIS is a great post by @mononijikayu about medieval queens, female rulers, the history of how women in leadership positions were made and seen as threats to the very structure of social "order", and contextualizing Rhaenyra thru Empress Matilda. I didn't even know about Matilda's husband being comparable to Rhaneyra's Daemon! PLZ READ!!!!
Excerpt:
just as much, along with these fictitious portrayals, more lies are depicted. these women are considered vixens that cause havoc to men by shifting them into desires and danger. through the written word, we see how women are cast in roles of villains in men’s lives. it is because by their conclusive thoughts, women are the only creatures that are able to turn ‘good honorable men’ into despicable creatures who do shameful, deplorable acts for the sake of women’s pleasures.  it is within this narrative that ancient chroniclers declare that women were in fact the doom of men. if they were not able to control the dangers posed by the wiles of women, then the foundations of the mighty society they had built would be up in flames.  [...] as i mentioned, these factors of community are written down and preserved. and with that, the example of the ancients were the foundations by which medieval society built itself. the same concepts continued to cause the same issue within society and that was the exclusion of women from participating in the bigger picture of community and state, much so with governing states in their own right—without judgment or disapproval. 
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madmadder · 3 months
Text
Another unwanted presentation for you to read (or not)
TRIGGER WARNING: I mean it's just detail but I do mention non con briefly and just a lot of gay booty
Why hello Tumblr.
Since my brain didn't let me open this app a lot recently for??? Some reason?? I'm gonna take my revenge and do a full presentation about a song I associate with paras. Because that's fun.
Now this isn't the first para song I wrote down, FAR FROM IT, but I really love it okay leave me alone 🥹
It's called ''Middle of a Breakup'' by Panic! At The Disco, tis about a breakup (would you have guessed??) and people having a bunch of sex which is always fun to hear about. I associate it with two of my paras, Stryne and Octavius, who got married recently (*screeches*). Their relationship is very complicated but not toxic and definitely NOT over. The song reminds me of them not because they're breaking up (dear Lord never!! My babies!!) but because they have this unbelievable passion that just. Grrrr
Stryne
Stryne is the prince of a kingdom named Trys'han. He's an elf and rough shit happened to him and my point was he's SUPER badass. Very stoic and calm in most situations even with extreme danger. He has a very strong Laurent of Vere energy (if you read Captive Prince and you should btw), but I made him before I knew about the book which makes me a genius and C.S. Pacat's soulmate. What? It does
Stryne is known to be one of the most beautiful people ever which puts him in a lot of trouble sometimes cause some people just won't respect consent.
Octavius
Octavius is human and also insane. Like super weird. He's the most polite (and cynical) young king you'll ever meet but also he likes to break bones. Yknow. He rules a kingdom named Tarnstrang.
He actually perfectly ignored Stryne's consent when Stryne was caught as a war prisoner but what's weird is that they ended up in this weird ''enemies with benefits'' thing and they actually fell madly in love?? Idk don't ask me I thought it was weird too but now they're in a somehow healthy relationship. Please keep all questions til the end of the presentation.
The song
Now this song is a frickin banger. I absolutely love it. It has a very vintage vibe which always SLAMS
There's such a strong ''I hate you but I want your titties'' energy that you cannot hate. And the LYRICS!!
''You and me don't deserve each other'': true, Octavius is a huge asshole who doesn't deserve Stryne in the first place and yknow Stryne deserves someone better so that works both ways, BUT!! He makes Octavius be and WANT to be better so Octavius feels like Stryne doesn't deserve him or he doesn't deserve to be happy and married blah blah anyway I'm smart
I also particularly love the lyric that says ''feels like we just met''. Like. Okay. How are you so in love with someone that you feel like you're rediscovering them, I mean that is just AWESOME (sorry aro guys I have much love for you too I swear)
Okay, another one: ''I hate those words like destiny, forever and all time''. Sure they're a bit cheesy together (I mean cmon it's sweet) but they've also been through so much they don't believe in destiny and crap BUT they have found each other and that's awesome. They don't feel like they've been Miraculously Chosen, they simply fell in love and made it work. Awesome. (I'm very pragmatic if you couldn't tell 😂)
Plus: Stryne is an elf and he has been raised to speak VERY correctly so he's almost Shakespearean when he talks and it's very awesome because it clashes with this thought he has: no, there's no destiny, just facts. (Plus it allows his husband to make fun of him)
This is them btw
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Anyway. That's it. I just needed to share because my brain is going to explode otherwise. I'm now crawling back to my cave ❤️
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Tamed Seas - Poseidon x Reader
(A/N)
This is the very first post I’m making on this equally new account and also the very first time I am ever using a second person POV for the reader. Let me know your thoughts!
The following story is just for shits and giggles. I do not own any of the characters, they are the property of Shinya Umemura and Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.
Warning: Swearing from my disclaimer.
Tamed Seas
Poseidon x Reader
They were never allowed to stare.
If Poseidon never looked anyone in the eye, deeming them unworthy of even a simple gaze, then anyone other than himself were equally unworthy in looking at his wife.
Just before the meeting had started about a decision to be made on humanity’s fate, Poseidon had entered in his full regalia, his wife walking alongside him. Of course, such a prestigious couple deserved such a special entrance, as Hermes, per Zeus’ request too, played his violin most ceremoniously, a proud smirk on his face upon seeing the royal feet step perfectly on the red carpet he had immediately placed upon knowing of their arrival. Zeus’ older brother held a record of never attending meetings, much more any simple get-togethers unless they were of real utmost importance such as this one.
Shiva’s eyes grew at the sight of the couple. Even though Poseidon’s wife had originally been a mortal who had ascended to godhood, you were glowing and looked as ethereal as Aphrodite. Was he seeing things? He blinked and leaned forward in his seat. The last time he saw you was at the announcement of your wedding, then after the ceremony he never caught a glimpse of you ever again and only heard stories of your new and impressive conquests. Were you always this godlike?
As if reading his thoughts, he gulped upon finding himself at the receiving end of Poseidon’s cold and stoic stare. He shrugged his shoulders. Man, he had heard rumors of his sudden protectiveness towards his wife, but he never expected him to be this overly protective. He was merely trying to figure out if his wife was always glowing like this or not. Both figuratively and literally.
Alright, maybe he was checking you out a little bit.
Unlike the god of the seas, his wife greeted Zeus, and all the familiar gods with a warm smile. It had been ages since you had seen them all together, and the sight brought a sense of nostalgia to the days where you had first earned their favor, then their respect, and then their friendship. Although your story might not be as mighty (and as physically taxing) as Hercules’ was, you considered those ‘young’ days to also be one of your best apart from getting married to the man god who you had given your heart for and will continue to love and cherish for the rest of your life. Since you became Poseidon’s wife, you had not had much time to do leisure outside the palace, and correspondingly after heralding the title of ‘queen of the seas,’ you had taken it upon yourself to help your husband in matters concerning his own kingdom and the vast seas themselves.
“Master Zeus—” Zeus threw you a knowing look. “My apologies, Zeus, it’s such a pleasure to see you again!”
“Same here, little lady! Judging by the frequent calmness of the Atlantic Ocean, I trust you and my brother are faring along quite well?” The father of all gods chuckled, then wiggled his gray eyebrows. “Why, I must say, me and most of the other Olympians have been waiting for some new gods and goddesses to rule alongside us, if you know what I mean! Ehe he~”
Characteristic of your husband, Poseidon simply scoffed before muttering how gods such as themselves need not gossip. Blue eyes never left the Hindu god however, and unbeknownst to his wife, he lingered closer to you than usual whenever the both of you were in public.
This time, Shiva had had enough. He was sure he only looked at the direction of Poseidon’s wife only once, and admired you only once as well, yet he was being skewered by the god’s gaze for longer than what he had intentionally allowed. As if he had openly claimed you as his! He was the god of destruction for heaven’s sake, and would not allow this sacrilegious act, regardless of whoever he had to settle the score with. If it was with another prominent deity, then it would be a lot more fun. Golden eyes narrowed daringly, an equally challenging aura oozing from his form and startling the nearby gods.
“Lord Shiva, are you okay—”
“(Name). How many times do I have to repeat myself? You have no need to refer to other gods with honorifics.” Your attention whipped to your husband, who to your surprise, held a familiar, challenging stance. Unbeknownst to you but the other gods especially Aphrodite, Poseidon simply matched the challenge of the Hindu god. “You are the wife of the seas. All the other gods are beneath you, as they are beneath me as well.”
Upon hearing this, Shiva gripped his concrete armrests too greatly and it crumbled to dust under his strength. Pumped at where this interaction seemed to be heading−the thought of fighting, he stood up, arms on the ready to cause destruction. Despite being in the middle of the crowd and quite far away from the center of the stadium where the couple stood, he caught glimpse of the famous trident he would never be caught dead wielding. Now this was getting interesting!
“My rules are simple: you disrespect me, you die,” He pointed at Poseidon, which the latter found disgusting enough to scrunch up his nose.
“Should we put a stop to this, Lord Zeus?” Hermes asked behind a white gloved hand. Not exceeding any expectations, Zeus laughed after a stroke of his beard and clapped. He always was one to find entertainment in alike situations, especially after the fact that this was the only time, he and all the other gods had really felt Poseidon riled up. The expression on the god of the seas’ face remained calm but it was betrayed by the suffocating, dominating presence he emitted from where he stood.
“And after you die, your wife would become firsthand witness of realizing how your title betrays your strength,” Shiva stretched, but halfway through noticed Poseidon’s quick work of his trident. He took a stance and prepared for the parrying move.
Amidst the unexpected battle that was soon to happen, to everyone’s surprise, a whistling sound echoed along the tension-filled stadium. It was a tune most foreign to the gods, all except one. From your lips, a beautiful melody poured out as a soft gentle breeze seemed to have begun to blow. It was an old tune you had learned from one of your many lifetimes in the mortal world,
And the very same one you had sung to Poseidon that had sustained him in trying moments.
Poseidon came to a full stop, his muscles unmoving as he listened and slowly, put his trident down. What was he thinking? He should not have been swayed by a foolish taunt committed by a foolish god. He was perfection incarnate. His wife would never fall for a foolish antic, so why did he? Now he was both angry and confused with himself. How could he have allowed himself for even a moment, for others to see him angry over this? What even was this?
Without the need to look at you, relishing in your fine tunes reminded him of the initial catalyst to his reaction and an answer to his question. Whenever matters concerned his wife, his emotions, which he learned were out of his control, seemed to defy all rational logic, which, even at the very beginning of your courtship, bypassed his ego. Of course, despite these strong feelings, the one thing Poseidon had control over were his actions. Therefore, he had always had a grip on how he presented himself. Although it was still a slow progress to figuring out this foreign feeling with his wife, the only other being he deemed truly worthy to allow into his life, anyone else will never have a chance of being privy to this side of him−a sentiment that thankfully, his wife shared. Though he never admitted it, he was confused and left mulling over for some time when you had also told him before that you had meant a different thing.
“…Foolish. Gods have no need for wars, we are perfect beings ourselves. You are not the reason for my presence here and are not worthy of my time and attention.” Another long silence fell, finally broken by Poseidon, ignoring the mix of surprised and fearful stares. His legs started carrying him towards the direction of one of the high stage boxes in the stadium. “Come, (Name).”
Shiva, who had his fists out and ready to fight, blinked twice in confusion before grunting, scratching the back of his ear violently in frustration. “You Greek gods have always been boring! And here I thought I’d finally be able to cause some destruction again, this time in Valhalla…”
Other than the Hindu god himself, none would ever understand if he had riled up the Greek god on purpose for the sake of his own entertainment or, perhaps, for something more personal. Zeus, meanwhile, followed the sight of his older brother walking quietly alongside his wife. Aphrodite nodded her head in his direction, affirming his suspicions. He would never fully understand the concept of love, but hey, he did get the message that all would be damned if so much as a single hair went missing on (Name)’s hair. And it seems he was not alone in this thought, as despite Shiva’s aggressive taunting, he also managed to peak into the gravity of the god of seas’ feelings towards his wife.
After Shiva had been calmed down and more gods piled in along with the Valkyries, Zeus set his meeting in motion. From the stands, Poseidon and his wife occupied the two seats that closely resembled their thrones. Eagerly sitting beside the god, (Name) grinned. Every day she had to sit close to her husband or even at times on his lap, she always felt like her body fit snugly against his.
Blue eyes stared uninterested at the spectacle.
“Dearest?” Poseidon turned his head and met your gaze. Any dark smudges had disappeared beneath his eyes, and his mouth that was carved into a seemingly permanent frown softened. His lips went from a thin line to a gentle curve.
“Thank you.”
No more words needed to be said. Poseidon knew what you were thanking him for, and he responded by closing his eyes as though he was swallowing every ounce of serenity that emitted from you. And the taste was sweet…
Above the angry retaliation of the gods regarding the verdict of Ragnarok, Poseidon enjoyed an elusive peace. Even if it was just a simple moment like this, he set his features in calm lines and his shoulders sank−a truly rare sight, a special secret between himself and his wife.
“I don’t care about this. I am eager to go home.” Poseidon whispered under his breath.
A chuckle left his wife’s lips. “We’re going home soon, don’t fret.”
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atlabeth · 3 years
Note
hey! i love your zuko fics so much and was wondering if you’d like to write this, because the idea just popped up: maybe a zuko x reader fluff that takes place before/during LOK? maybe they’re reminiscing about their past adventures w the Gaang while helping out the new Team Avatar? idk it’s just that every time I see old zuko it makes me soft and emotional 🥲🔥❤️ anyways, much love! (and don’t feel pressured to do this at all, I was just thinking abt who I could submit this request to, and obvi my first choice was you 💕)
reminiscence - zuko x fem!reader
summary: just because you and your husband are retired doesn’t mean you don’t have amazing advice for the new team avatar.
a/n: this is so cute omg!! thank you so much for requesting this and thank you for much for your kind words i'm honored <33 im so sorry this took so long
sorry im posting so much lately im trying to stop slacking and publish things that have been wips for over a month sdkjfh
wc: 1.3k
warning(s): none bc i choose to ignore the news of zaheer’s plan right after this scene
-
Retirement was… nice.
You had spent your childhood fighting with the Avatar to end the Hundred Year War, a feat that was only made more difficult with your Fire Nation roots and connection to the banished prince. But all that’s well ends well, and you ended up getting your happy ending together — you had to fight hard for it, though.
You married Zuko at nineteen, three years after he ascended to the throne, and spent the subsequent years balancing your duties as Fire Lady and taking care of your daughter. Ruling the Fire Nation was a lot, but you knew you could get through anything with your husband at your side.
When he told you his plans to abdicate the throne, you were more than supportive. One of Zuko’s biggest fears was becoming his father, and by giving up his position willingly to Izumi, it guaranteed that he wouldn’t fall victim to the power-obsessed ways of his ancestors. It also gave him a well-deserved break after decades of being Fire Lord, and you were more than ready to get out of the world of Fire Nation politics. You had sat through enough meetings to fill multiple lifetimes.
But just because the two of you weren’t as involved in every day affairs of the world didn’t mean that you were completely out of it. No, that was far from the truth. You and Zuko were still some of the most important people in all of the nations, which meant it wasn’t a rare occurrence for your husband to be called off on some sort of mission.
One such mission was stopping the Order of the Red Lotus for the second time; Zuko had been part of the team that stopped them from kidnapping Avatar Korra as a child, so it was no surprise that he had been called to help for a second time. You knew even in his old age that your husband was powerful, but you couldn’t help but feel concerned about everything he was doing.
This concern was ultimately what led you to join Zuko on his trip to meet with Chief Beifong and Chief Tonraq in the Misty Palms Oasis. He had originally been against your involvement, claiming that the Red Lotus was far too dangerous, and he didn’t want to risk you getting injured in any way. You, of course, weren’t having it. “The Avatar’s in trouble, and I’d like to think I know a few things about getting out of trouble.”
One thing was certain after you arrived — it had been far too long since you had ridden on the back of a dragon. You truly adored Druk, and you felt bad for everyone that would never have the opportunity.
After conversing with Lin and Tonraq inside, you all exited to greet the new Team Avatar. If what you were told was true, then they had been through quite a lot since leaving Zaofu. For as long as you had been involved in foreign affairs, you had never met Avatar Korra nor her friends, so you didn’t know what to expect — an awestruck boy that could barely speak wasn’t at the top of your list though.
“Oh my gosh. It’s Lord Zuko and Lady Y/N. I can’t believe it!” He stared at the two of you with wide eyes, his voice getting higher and higher as he whimpered. He looked like he was going to fall over until another black-haired boy pulled him out of the way, his tone apologetic.
“Uh, forgive my brother,” he said as he put his fist against his open palm, his brother following suit. “We’re just really honored to meet you both.”
“It’s no problem,” you smiled as you and Zuko returned the greeting. It had been years since someone had reacted that way towards you, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t amuse you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
The two boys straightened again as the taller one gestured to them each in turn. “I’m Mako, and this is Bolin. We’re Korra’s friends.”
“Ah, she’s got her own Team Avatar?” You inquired with a twinkle in your eye. “You know, I traveled with Avatar Aang years back along with my husband.”
“Of course I know!” Bolin exclaimed. “Oh, I’ve heard so many stories about your adventures, they’re all so amazing!” His eyes widened and you actually thought that he was going to fall over. “Oh, oh, could you tell us about some of the things you went through?”
“Bolin, we really shouldn’t bother them—” Mako started, but you laughed and waved it off.
“I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not often I get to relive my journeys to such avid listeners. What would you like to hear about?”
He thought for a couple seconds then shot back up again. “What was it like when you escaped the Boiling Rock together? You guys were the first people to ever break out, right? That had to be amazing!”
You and Zuko both laughed as you shot him a look. “It was… interesting,” he said.
“By interesting, he means it was a complete disaster,” you corrected. “Everywhere something could’ve gone wrong, it went wrong. They had originally come there to rescue Sokka’s dad, but instead they found Suki and I. Then Zuko got found out and thrown into prison, our first escape plan failed, Sokka almost got found out, Azula showed up… it was honestly a miracle we made it out at all.”
“It wasn’t that bad!” he protested. “Getting thrown into prison was part of the plan, we wouldn’t have been able to get the cooler out if I hadn’t been found out.”
“I guess I can’t complain,” you chuckled. “I did get to punch you a couple times.”
“They are so cool,” Bolin whispered as the two of you went on in the background. He elbowed Mako in the shoulder and gestured towards the couple with his head. “Come on, ask them something! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”
“I’m not going to ask them something, Bolin—”
“Excuse me, my brother has something he wants to ask too!” Mako shot him a dirty look which quickly disappeared when you and Zuko turned to him attentively.  
“Oh, um…” He coughed and scratched his head. “I guess.. is there any advice you have for us? With this whole Team Avatar thing, I mean.” You smiled at Mako and took Zuko’s hand.
“The friendships you forge during your journey are the most important thing — they’re the things that will keep you going during your darkest moments, and they will last a lifetime. There will be mountains and valleys, ebbs and flows, but no matter what, you will hold an unbreakable bond.”
You felt Zuko squeeze your hand and turned your smile on him as you returned the sentiment then nodded for him to continue. “Never take anything for granted, and trust in fate. You’re where you are for a reason — everything will end up working out in the end.”
You grinned and kissed him on the cheek, humming in agreement. “It did, didn’t it?”
-
After a few more minutes of talking with the two brothers, they went off to join the rest of their group. It was strange being on the outside of it all after how intense your childhood was, but it was… refreshing not to have the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore.
“The world’s in good hands with them,” you murmured as you leaned your head on Zuko’s shoulder.
“They all have that same fire you had when I first met you,” Zuko chuckled. You watched the four of them conversing and a smile graced your lips.
“Oh? Then I think the world’s in very good hands.”
-
perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin
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dreamkidddream · 3 years
Note
I’m the Doll!MC Anon and I just wanna say I’m so glad that you enjoy a soft/delicate!MC and I really didn’t expect it to get so much love!
Since I kinda want to be evil and see the boys be overprotective, can I request hc’s of them seeing Doll!MC getting hurt by some lesser demon that bumps her into the ground and she gets a bruise? 🌚
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Omg Doll Anon I wasn’t expecting it to get so much love either (here’s the original Doll!MC HCs if anyone wants to read)!! So I actually had your request saved for when I was done with the prompt special bc it’s so good, so I decided to combine them and I have definitely been waiting to write this 😈😈 Reader is gender neutral!
CW: mention of blood (nothing graphic) and spoilers for Lesson 16 (Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, and Belphie’s part)
The Brothers and Diavolo with Doll!MC who Gets Hurt
Lucifer
Okay whoever is dumb enough to hurt you in front of him deserves this 100%
The air around this man is already more than intimidating, so whoever tries this is a poor, stupid soul
When he saw you fall down the stairs, he felt his stomach turn. He already caught you before you could injure yourself further, but after seeing the blood coming down your face, the damage was already done
Now, Lucifer is the brother who always has control over himself and what he does. But, we also know that how his temper can get, especially when it comes to his family
This demon is dumb enough to push you but not dumb enough to crack a smile in front of him, especially with how tense Lucifer is getting right now
He sat you up and tried to remember some first aid techniques to stop the bleeding. You’re on the verge of losing consciousness, but you’re okay right now. He’ll take you home, but first-
His glare is making the demon freeze in place right now, and the anger radiating off of him is petrifying
How dare- how dare this fool harm you, in front of him no less?! Did they think that he wouldn’t do anything? That Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, one of the strongest demons to ever grace the Devildom, would just idly stand by and let this happen?
He’s stalking towards them, and he can feel his fangs showing and his diamond appearing on his forehead, growling out how they will pay for this-
But he’s stopped by Lord Diavolo, who was shocked by the scene. You’re unconscious, and Lucifer has this poor student hanging in the air by their uniform, claws ready to slice through them. Needless to say, he understands why his close friend is upset, but for everyone’s safety he should just take you home like planned
You thought Lucifer was a helicopter parent before? You haven’t seen NOTHING yet
He would start inviting you more to his room to sleep in his bed while he works away, and it started happening so much that he didn’t even ask anymore and started expecting you to always be in there
So instead of him being glued by your side, you’re glued to his. It’s obvious that he can’t let you out of his sight without something happening (again), so hope you’re ready to see experience Lucifer’s daily routine from sunrise to sunset and a whole new set of rules. Basically playing follow the leader, but with a lot more handholding and kisses
You had to practically beg to be back into the kitchen, and he only relented when he could be the one to supervise you, and even then he still didn’t want to hold anything sharp or be near anything that could injure you (which is pretty much everything)
The main one to put a stop to his brothers’ schemes, handing out harsher punishments than before each time they try to involve you. This man is not playing any games with anyone
You know he means well, he was already overprotective from the start, and this is just his way of showing that he cares about you. You can tell every time he gives you that soft look in his eyes, and the regret that he shows every time he catches sight of your bruise. He may not like to be vulnerable, but he couldn’t hide his emotions from you too long. You’re like a weakness to him, one that he isn’t against indulging in
And he hasn’t forgotten about that student, oh no. He made sure to have a nice lengthy chat with them when you both returned to RAD. You didn’t question it when he informed you that the student had been rightfully punished and no longer an issue, and you tried to ignore the red dots splattered on his shoes, or that sadistic gleam in his eyes...
Mammon
This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening-
The blood is pouring from your head, and your eyes are closing too fast for him, and his heart stops
You look lifeless, like when Belphie killed you, when he was too late to save you-
He’ll never forget that image, it’s drilled deep into his mind, forever a reminder of his failure to protect you. And now he failed again-
This demon is gloating about this, and that’s when he snaps
He was already in his demon form and beating the life out of them when he was restrained. Many people were shocked that he was capable of this, that Mammon the scumbag, Mammon the dummy, Mammon the punching bag was capable enough to be this dangerous, this deadly. He’s the second born after all, and he’s the strongest right under Lucifer himself, and he holds a lot in
He could- he would do a lot more because they deserve it, but just seeing you so still, it snaps him out of it. You’re more important to him than getting his anger out, and you’re the one he needs to be focusing on right now. But rest asssured, this isn’t over
You thought he was attached to you before? He is glued to your side 24/7 and will not be leaving anytime soon. Ever since you woke up he never let go of you, calling you “his human” and just hugging you tight
Also if you have to go down the stairs you guys are FLYING no exceptions! The stairs are the devil in his eyes (how ironic) and he will not be risking anything with you
If you guys aren’t out and about under his careful and watchful eye (and I mean very careful, he’s like your very own bodyguard but with a lot more growling and snapping on strangers than usual), then you’re in his room doing whatever. Watching movies, playing cards and somehow beating him every time (he swears that he isn’t letting you win! Lies), whatever you wanna do. As long as you’re with him, giggling and safe, he’s happy and stress free
You mean so much to Mammon MC, he can’t even tell you if he tries. Under his tsundere traits, he really loves you, like really loves you! He’s just so scared of being rejected and losing you a second time. But now that he knows you’ll always be there for him, he’s going to do the same for you (but he already was even if you didn’t like him) He hates looking at that bruise right now, but it’s set as a reminder to not let something happen to you again
Also, another thing that people forget about Mammon is that he can talk to crows. So it wasn’t much to have them track down the person who caused you pain, and it didn’t take long for him to find them either. He thinks that the aftermath will set a good lesson for everyone else who continues to underestimate him when it comes to you: don’t
Leviathan
See, this is why he never leaves his safe haven AKA his room!
After he saw your head hit the ground hard, he was freaking out. He doesn’t know what to do, he wasn’t prepared for this! He tried shaking you to keep you awake, but your eyes were steady closing
Everything is happening in slow motion. You’re slumped over on the ground while the person who did it is laughing at him
If anything, the person who did it should be the one on the ground, not you, not his Henry. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair!
The demon stopped laughing when their windpipe was getting crushed by the second. They couldn’t even try to loosen the grip, Levi’s tail is rather strong, and so is he. He is the third strongest out of his family and the Grand Admiral of the Navy, yet people tend to forget that
Everyone knows how bad Levi’s tantrums can be, but this isn’t just a tantrum, it’s much worse. Had the brothers not intervene, he would have done much worse than summoning Lotan (which he was on the brink of doing anyway)
When you did wake up, he was so upset. Of course he let this happen, he’s just a worthless otaku who couldn’t even keep his crush safe-
OMG why are you hugging him and patting his head?! Quit it- well wait, this does feel kinda nice...Ugh you’re such a normie! Getting hurt so easily and still trying to put a smile on his face. But it does make him feel better
He rarely left his room before, and you guys are definitely not leaving it now. It’s like having a sleepover, but it never ends. That sounds great, right MC? Endless marathons of TSL and other anime, co-op video games, trying on his cosplay outfits that he made (some even made just for you and he needs to cover that bruise somehow), it’s going to be so fun and you’ll be safe with him! Who wouldn’t want that??
We all know that Levi is very self conscious. He knows that he isn’t confident like Lucifer and Mammon, or attractive like Asmo, or smart like Satan or Belphie, or physically fit like Beel, he knows. But every time you listen to him ramble on about this new anime show that he wants you guys to binge, or when he rants about a stupid move his teammate did in an online match, he feels valued. He feels loved. And while it’s hard for him to express his feelings, it’s no doubt in his mind that you’re important to him, and that he’s beyond happy that someone like you is his best friend
One day he’ll get the courage to say those three words, but he hopes that you already know with everything that he does for you
For example, Levi is an aquatic demon, and he has the ability to communicate with all types of sea creatures. Granted, he knows right from wrong, but in his eyes he’s taking care of the problem. So it wouldn’t be a huge issue if he used them to clean up the remaining mess of said problem, right? I mean, his venom can only do so much, and he doesn’t need anyone questioning him, and Lotan does get hungry...
Satan
He could only see red. Both from his anger surfacing and from the fact that you’re bleeding
He had his claws wrapped around the neck of the one responsible before they could even think about running. This- this filth dared tried to escape after he hurt you? And they thought that Satan would just let them get away with it?
They must forget that he’s the Avatar of Wrath, the one who doesn’t show mercy
He just kept pounding the demon into the ground, over and over and over and over. He didn’t even care about the blood splatter it was leaving on the lockers or on him
He was this close to finishing them off when he heard you call out for him, and it took everything in him to drop them. He squeezed their neck a final time, not even close to being satisfied with the whimper he heard, and growled out a promise of that he will find them and will make sure that they suffer before he threw them down. They better count themselves lucky that they get to crawl away in one piece (for now), because had you not been there-
Oh, he is seething the more he thinks about it
But you bleeding is a distraction from it, even if it is making his stomach turn, it’s helping him know that he needs to help you now
He didn’t have to let his brothers know as they came to see what the commotion was, and Lucifer (even if he didn’t want to believe it himself) was anxious that he was the cause of it. But after he saw the hold he had on you and another demon barely clinging onto life, he knew otherwise
It was decided that you two going home would be the best course of action (which it didn’t matter to Satan, you both weren’t going to stay here whether it was demanded or not), and he calmed down enough to properly treat you
You didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day, and he even gave up his bed for you to lie in so that he can do some research. The human body is a complicated thing, but Satan can learn it like the back of his hand just for you. So just go ahead and rest for now MC- or maybe not, you might have a concussion according to this book and if you do he needs to monitor your condition!
Even after you were healed, he didn’t let you out of his sight and daily checkups were a must. Dr. Satan is in the building!
You eventually moved back into your room (you would have stayed longer but he’s a little nervous with his towering stacks of books and doesn’t want anymore accidents), but he practically moved in with you with how much he comes over, either falling asleep at your desk reading a book or falling asleep in your chair right next to your bed
Very reluctant to have you around stairs, it makes the hairs on his neck stand up. He’ll let you go down the stairs ONLY if you’re holding his hand. If you’re upset with those conditions (spoiler alert you’re not), then you better be ready to learn some teleportation spells (but even then he’s still not leaving your side)
He doesn’t hold his temper back with the others when it comes to you for the time being. If he even senses that Mammon, Asmo, or Levi is coming to you with something that can cause trouble, he’s growling at them to leave you alone, horns slowly coming out and tail whipping furiously
However, he tries not to lash out in front of you. He realizes that he lost control with that demon, and how it could have terrified you had you been fully conscious, but he doesn’t want you to think that he’s just a monster. He wants you to continue to treat him like you do now, and not have the image of bashing someone’s bloody body on the floor repeatedly
Speaking of bashing someone, Satan made well on his promise of coming back. The demon thought that avoiding coming back to school would save them, but Satan is a genius, and has many associates that he can sweet talk to get what he wants. It didn’t take much to figure out where they went, and he made sure to get out all of his pent-up frustrations from that fateful day. He felt better when he came home, but he needed to take a shower before he went to see you...
Besides from that, he does appreciate the peace that you do bring him. You just have this aura around you that’s so calming to him, and he needs to steal you away more he realizes
Also you make better cat-themed desserts than the cafe and he can’t risk Beel eating them all again
Asmodeus
He’s shook, and not in the good way
He just had your hand in his, complaining about how you cuticles look so good and his is lacking and how guys have to go to the nail salon after class, and then your hand is jerked from his, your form at the bottom of the stairs
The blood staining your uniform is alarming, but he can’t worry about that now. He’s trying to keep you talking, but you’re already on the verge of passing out
“MC, you can’t sleep yet! We have plans to go to the nail salon remember? And I need you awake so we can talk about what matching color we’re getting! So what color should we get now, MC? MC? MC!”
He’s trying to keep himself from panicking, but he can’t help it! You’re suppose to be smiling and laughing with you, loving him, but you’re unconscious on the ground, and he’s scared
Quickly dials Lucifer and tells him the whole situation, and he’s surprised to find himself blinking back tears
The demon who did this is long gone by the time Lucifer and Diavolo come, but he remembers the face, and he has something exciting planned when he comes face to face with them
Obviously you have to go home, but Asmo is so distraught that he has to go home with you. But when you wake up, prepare to be tackled to the bed with him crying his eyes out. All you can do is try to comfort him and tell him that okay, giving him little kisses on his cheek
But now that the sadness is out of the way (all this crying and worrying is causing him stress wrinkles), it’s time for a makeover/stress relief!
Fashion shows, makeovers, painting nails, face masks, the whole nine yards. All in the comfort of his dazzling room!
It’ll make you both feel and look better, and honestly you two need that right now. It also gives him the opportunity to cover that unappealing bruise. Your beauty outshines it but it’ll be best to cover it up for your and his sake (mainly his)
Every time Asmo sees your bruise, he gets upset and he’s tired of being reminded of what happened. He knows that he’s only loved for his looks, his vanity, but you see more in him than that
You’re...you’re the first person that loves him for him entirely, not because of his features. And when he tells you that he loves you, he honestly means it. He would have never thought he would fall so deep for someone, let alone a human, but...he’s glad that it’s you. He’s happy that it’s you
Which is why he wants to keep you safe and injury-free. Plus, your skin is too pretty and doll-like to be roughed up!
You guys still go out of course, he just has a better eye on you now. This one incident isn’t going to hold him back for picking out new cute outfits for you!
And don’t think he forgot about that demon who caused all of this in the first place. He actually waited by their locker, and convinced them to come with him. But what should Asmo do with them? He could always have them steal Beel’s food, annoy Lucifer, say something horrible about Ruri-Chan, the possibilities are endless! As long as they don’t cause him to get dirty, of course
Or maybe they should do something so severe that they have no reason than to leave RAD forever, or even leave the Devildom forever, depending on how far he’s willing to take it. He’ll do anything if it means you’re safe and he gets to keep you all to himself
Beelzebub
He thought it was an accident at first, you get so excited about things that you stumble over your own feet sometimes, but he’s always there to catch you or pick you up
You keep saying that you’re okay as he’s holding onto you, and after he sits you up he’s confused because he smells blood. His heart is beating a little quicker, and you’re not talking anymore, and your head is drooping, and that’s when he sees the blood running down the side of your face
He’s starting to panic, and he’s so scared that if he tightens his hold against you he’ll just make things worse, that he’ll just hurt you more. But he needs to go find Lucifer, he needs to get you help, you’re feeling so light in his arms and it reminds him of the Celestial War when he witnessed his sister dying-
He hears someone snickering behind him, and that’s when he loses his temper
You’re a part of his family now, someone that he loves and cares for more than he can describe, and they did this to you? Someone who wouldn’t even squish a bug, someone who made him late night snacks without even asking, always there to give him hugs after his games no matter how sweaty, someone that put his family back together and they did this to you?
Lucifer and Mammon struggled to hold him back after they found the demon flung through the wall, laying under the rubble. Beel just kept growling, fangs bared and wings buzzing. He won’t stop trying to get out of their hold, and he keeps inching closer and closer to the demon, and it’s only a matter of time before he finishes what he started
You were already in the infirmary getting treated, and Beel isn’t calming down anytime soon so you were both escorted home
You woke up to Beel upset and pouting. He’s so worried about you that he couldn’t even eat. Beelzebub could not eat, that’s how you knew this was a something serious
Poor Beel was so terrified of hurting you himself that he failed to protect you from the people that do want to hurt you, or worse
But this won’t happen again, he swears, both to you and himself. Move over Mammon, Beel is officially your new bodyguard!
Wherever you go, Beel is right behind you, literally. He’s like your shadow, just bigger and a lot more...menacing. Also isn’t taking any chances with Mammon’s schemes, just carrying you away before he can even open his mouth about another get rich quick plan
Speaking of carrying, you are not allowed to walk down the stairs anymore. As soon as you step near some you find yourself in his arms like it’s nothing. Both at home and at school, it doesn’t matter to him
Also he’s very cautious to have you around people besides his brothers, and the exchange students (but he’s still hesitant about Solomon, anyone who can cook food like him is automatically getting the side eye)
Also you practically moved in with the twins, and it’s nothing compared to the sleepovers before. Belphie sleeps easier, Beel’s stomach is satisfied (eating your homemade sweets with you is better than everything combined at Hell’s Kitchen, and trust me he knows) he feels all warm inside, and you’re protected. Everyone’s happy!
Beel is a sweet guy, just don’t come in between his family or his food. After that whole incident with the demon, everyone has come to understand that, especially after seeing just how much damage he caused both to the demon and the school in so little time...
Belphegor
If he was sleepy before, he’s completely awake now
You’re holding the side of your head, and he can see the blood seeping through your fingers, groaning in pain. You keep trying to say that you’re okay, but your words are starting to slur and he’s getting nervous, he’s getting scared
It’s reminding him too much of his worst mistake, of what he did to you, when he murdered-
No. He doesn’t need to be thinking about that right now, especially when the person who did this is bragging about it while your body is slumped over. Right there, he knows what exactly needs to be done
Belphie was already in front of them before they even registered it, and didn’t give him any time to form an excuse. His claws were already at their throat, inching deeper and deeper the more they swallowed
“I should just slit your throat now, it’ll be easy and not a lot of work. But you deserve much worse than that. You’ll wish I did by the end of this.”
After a tap to the demon’s forehead, they just collapsed before him, unmoving. He didn’t even look down when he stepped over them (or rather stepped on them) to get to you. You’re passed out, but still breathing. You can’t stay here like this, and he refuses to tell Diavolo or Lucifer. He’ll figure something out, maybe Satan has some books in his room on what to do...
When you woke up, you found yourself wrapped in blankets and Belphie sleeping beside you, arms wrapped tight. You were confused, when did you get home? You remember walking with him down the stairs, but everything was blurry after that. What happen-
“You’re always thinking so hard MC, you’ll never be able to get good rest if you keep that up. But Satan did say to check on you every couple of hours, so I guess it’s fine. And quit touching your head!”
“Oh, sorry Belphie, I didn’t mean to-”
“Tch, how annoying...”
But he’s lying. Even as he’s carefully re-wrapping the bandages, he’s relieved that you’re awake, that your eyes are still full of life, not like the dullness that he saw that fateful night
When Lucifer finds you he is not happy with Belphie, but he doesn’t care and tells him that everything is already under control and that he isn’t needed. Belphie didn’t miss the scowl that he sent his way, but he just smirked in response. You didn’t need Lucifer as Belphie is already taking care of you, as it should be
You know how he always carries around his favorite pillow? Yeah he’s doing that with you basically, minus the carrying. You’re practically attached to his side, wherever he goes you’re either right there with him or in his room, which is mainly just you two lazing around or sleeping (as usual)
Honestly, the only demons who he’s okay with disturbing you two is Beel and maybe Satan. Beel because that’s his twin and it’s his room too, and Satan only if he’s checking on you medically or if he has some new ideas to mess with Lucifer. Everyone else is just trying to bother you and be annoying, and you don’t need that
Of course he blames himself for this! How is he suppose to keep you safe, to make up for his mistake? But then it clicks
It’s not the fact that he’s weak, people think that he’s weak. But he realizes that this is fine, he’ll use that to his advantage.
Diavolo is upset and Lucifer is running out of excuses for him, but Belphie just plays stupid and says he can’t remember how to remove it (even though he does). Let the demon lose some more sleep until they learn their lesson, whether it’s from the constant nightmares or from sleep deprivation trying to stay awake to avoid said nightmares. He’ll remove it when he feels like it, and he doesn’t see that happening anytime soon
Let people think the Avatar of Sloth is weak, that he’s not a threat, and he can show them exactly how wrong they are. Better yet, this demon can be the perfect example, and many more if they become a bother to you (and him)
You’re too nice MC, too delicate. You treat him so good, like he’s not a demon, like he’s not the monster who took your life, and he has to thank you for that somehow. He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough for the kindness you give him, but protecting you from others who used to be like him could be a good start
Also now he can hog all of your head pats and cuddles for himself, and he doesn’t feel bad at all. Everyone else had their time with you when he was locked up, so he’s finally got the opportunity to be selfish
Diavolo
First of all...this demon is dumb enough to harm you in front of him??? The Demon LORD???? The FUTURE KING OF HELL??!
They have more than just a death wish
It all happened so quick, he just crossed paths with you in the hallways and started to ask about your day (and maybe invite you for a small tea date after school) but he didn’t even get the chance to open his mouth
One second he saw your eyes light up and hand extended to excitedly wave, then he saw your fragile form tumbling down the stairs
Barbatos was soon called to his side as Diavolo saw the red coating his palms and you barely staying conscious, trying to say that you’re okay and not to worry
See...he feared that this would be a problem. While Diavolo is a very kind and understanding ruler, there are still some demons out there who think he’s too lenient, too soft. But that’s where people are mistaken. Diavolo is kind, but do not mistake his kindness for weakness
He felt his anger rising, his demeanor starting to crack, but he set aside his emotions. You’re his first priority, and he needs to make sure that you’re okay! He’s still a ruler, and you’re his responsibility (and first love)
However, he made sure that Barbatos took the demon who did this and kept them in the dungeon until he was done treating you. He won’t let this go unpunished, he can’t and he won’t
You’re an important part of the exchange program, and you’re most important to him, and he’s upset with himself that you got hurt. You’re so delicate, and you don’t deserve any of this happening to you, but what can he do? While he trusts the brothers to keep you safe, he wants to keep an eye on you personally, but how?
Then it struck him
You liked to stay in the castle, always smiling and having fun whenever you spent time with him there, so why not relocate you there?? It’ll be like an extended sleepover/retreat with just you two!! You guys can do all of your favorite activities and won’t have to worry about going home because you won’t have to leave!! Why didn’t he think of this sooner?!
The brothers are very upset with this incident, and even more so when he announced this. Diavolo decided that your condition needed to be monitored closely, and since he’s the person directly in charge of the exchange program AND the ruler over the Devildom, there was no room to argue. You weren’t going to stay in the castle forever, just until he deemed it right to return to the HoL
Which would be...some time soon, maybe. He’s not really worried about that now, his number 1 concern is you after all!
You’re getting the royal treatment, literally. This is the chance that he gets to pamper you without interruptions and he is not wasting it!
You kept trying to convince him that you’re fine, but he wasn’t hearing any of it, especially after he sees the nasty bruise that was left. “MC, please! You still need to rest. How about I have Barbatos bring us some tea to help, and we can even have the royal staff bring us some outfits of your choosing if you like? Oo, we can even have our portrait painted!”
“Dia, I promise that I’m fine, you have more things to worry about than me-”
“Nonsense, MC. You’re what’s important to me, now and always. Don’t ever forget that.”
Even finished it with a hand kiss, UGH he really is a Prince Charming
Once you did return to RAD bruise free, Diavolo, being the gentleman that he is, walked with you everywhere in the beginning. Coming into the building, walking to class, lunch, even to the student council meeting, he was by your side. But he couldn’t avoid his duties forever (unfortunately), but he always made up for lost time afterwards
You never realized that when he wasn’t with you, someone else always was. Whether it be Lucifer who miraculously had spare time, or Barbatos who decided to escort you back to the castle to try a new recipe for his Lord, it was always one of them that stayed with you
Also, it never dawned on you why people were starting to be so nice to you. You thought it was because of what happened, not paying attention to how tense they would get, the fear in their eyes. You did notice that the demon who caused your fall never came back to class, and their desk is starting to collect dust...
When you did ask Diavolo about it, he just pat your head and said that what happened was unacceptable and that the demon has been dealt with accordingly.
You don’t need to hear about what really happened to them, he doesn’t want to scare you or taint your innocence! But he doesn’t mind if anyone else hears it, he’ll be more than happy to explain in full detail what happened and what will happen to demons that even think about attempting to harm you or think that he’s “too soft”. They won’t think he’s a soft ruler after that
Diavolo is a very sweet man, one that treats you as if you’re ruling by his side as his partner and one that you never have to be scared of, but even you didn’t miss the deadly glint in his eyes whenever he spoke about that demon...
But enough about that, he wants to try that new recipe that you made just for him!
He enjoys the time that he gets to spend with you, and after this, you’ll be in his company a lot more. He can’t risk having this happen again to his love- I MEAN favorite exchange student right?
786 notes · View notes
azenkii · 4 years
Text
A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons
...that i couldn't get out of my head:
(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)
he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.
his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'
he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)
he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,
he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time
when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)
when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them
he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture
he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)
he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap
he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.
he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')
(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)
he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)
the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law
once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee
when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord
the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.
zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar
he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear
he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden
most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)
one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket
zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)
on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it
the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'
zuko: facial what now
he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before
'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'
he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.
(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)
his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)
he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances
during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some
he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).
he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.
the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.
after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.
unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)
he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)
he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere
when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid
on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes
this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks
just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential
7K notes · View notes
pricetagofficial · 3 years
Text
Pair of Aces -H.D. [18+]
Warnings: Language, I made Harvey too hot for words, NSFW smut, drinking, smoking, car sex, self sex, oral sex, sex sex,  Harvey is a gift giver, I don’t make the rules, fluff, raunchy jokes and humor, sexy drink names
Paring: Harvey Dent x Reader
Masterlist
Part One Part Three
Word Count: 5.6K
A/N: This is the official/unofficial part two to Baby Doll. You can find it in the link above! After writing the first one, I had so many ideas that I wanted to do so I made another and here we are folks. 5.6k words of complete self indulgence. Blame Elle, (who also made this fabulous banner for me, love you!)
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Harvey had his arm draped over your shoulders, keeping you within reach. Sure, this was supposed to be a friendly poker game but that didn't mean he trusted these fuckers with being within ten feet of you. 
It really didn't help that you dressed the way you did. The short leather skirt alone was enough to kill him. But when he saw the white sleeveless crop top with a golden chain laced across exposing your breasts, he swore his heart stopped.
Pressed close to Harvey's side, you shivered feeling the chain brush against your skin. You could feel several pairs of eyes trail over your body, only making Harvey tighten his hold on you.
The game was supposed to be between Harvey, Roman Sionis, and Oswald Cobblepott. Once a month, the three men put aside their differences for a couple of games of poker. No business was allowed, except potential info against a common enemy usually centered around a particular bat-obsessed freak.
The door at the end of the hall had several men standing guard, looking down at you and Harvey.
“There was nothing about bringing a guest,” one said. 
“Didn’t want to leave her all alone, thought she could learn something tonight,” Harvey explained, tightening his grip on your waist. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, daring the guards to try and pry you away from him. 
The larger one huffed and crossed his arms, a grin on his face. “We’ll have to pat you down before letting you in.” 
Releasing his hold on you, Harvey stepped forward with his hands up as the guard patted down his chest and legs to make sure he isn’t hiding anything suspicious. Finding the gun in his coat, the guard gave Harvey a look before he raised a brow. 
“Gotta protect my girl somehow,” he said, looking at him. “You never know the kind of creeps are out there.” 
The guard shrugged and let him pass, putting a hand out to stop you from following him. 
“Hey! You did your inspection, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The guard’s grin got wider, his eyes hiding something malicious in them. “I said I had to pat you down, both of you.” 
“That’s a load of fucking bullshit,” he growled, stepping back to protect you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed his cheek. 
“Relax baby, I’ll be alright,” you assured, stepping back and putting your hands in the air. You felt the guard’s hands start on your waist and make their way up your torso, moving to grab your breasts. Before he could, you lifted your foot and slammed the heel of your stiletto into his foot. 
“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you frowned, listening to the guard hiss at the pain before finishing up and letting you through. 
Harvey chuckled, watching you handle yourself before grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest. Placing a kiss on your lips, he opened the door and led you in. 
The room was filled with smoke from cigars and cigarettes galore, and there was a bad smell in the air that reminded you of the gym locker rooms. It smelled of sweat, meat, and something else you didn’t want to linger on. 
Harvey’s eyes raked the room, eyeing Roman and Oswald already sitting in their chairs having what seemed to be a friendly chat. Walking further into the room, Harvey pulled out his chair and sat. 
“Sorry it took so long boys, had some personal matters to attend to,” he said, unbuttoning his coat and pulling out a cigarette. He looked at you, an expectant look on his face. 
Rolling your eyes, you leaned over his body the leather skirt riding up your ass. Reaching into his coat, you pulled out the lighter and lit the cig in his mouth. He knew you hated it when he smoked, but he couldn’t deny how unbelievably hot it was to watch you light them for him. 
Taking a drag, he blew out the smoke, his eyes not leaving you. “Thanks, baby doll,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. Glancing to the side, he didn’t miss the looks Roman and Oswald were giving you. Wanting to prove that you were untouchable, he reached forward toying with the golden chain of your top. 
“Why don’t you go get daddy a drink?” he asked, brushing the skin of your breasts with his finger ever so lightly. 
“Yes sir, Mr. Dent.” you winked, standing straight. As you turned to pour him a drink, Harvey grinned and slapped your ass, earning a light squeal from you. 
Roman’s eyes narrowed in on the sway of your ass as you walked, what he wouldn’t give for an hour alone with you. Leaning on the arm of his chair, his gaze raked over your body lingering on your exposed breasts. He swore Dent brought you along just to brag, not that he would complain. The sweet image of you bent over the arm of the chair was enough to satiate his wants for the time being. 
Harvey narrowed his eyes, “Something on your mind Sionis?” 
You walked back over, Harvey’s scotch in your hand not ignoring the looks all the men in the room were giving you. Taking a sip of it yourself, you handed it to him, your lipstick staining the glass. 
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with an ugly bastard like Harv?” Roman asked, a grin forming on his face. 
“More than you could ever imagine,” Harvey responded, glaring him down. 
Roman leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes watching you intently. Snapping his fingers to get your attention, he grinned. “How about a Kinky Blow Job, princess.” 
Harvey looked as if he was about to explode, gripping the arms of the chair he was in. Roman caught his gaze, not missing your flustered state at his bold request. “I mean the drink, Dent. Your girl should know how to do a Kinky Blow Job right? Or were those personal matters over a Juicy Pussy?”
Not wanting to be rude, you walked over and made the drink Roman requested. If you weren’t so well versed in various drink names this would have been a very awkward position. Mixing the pink drink, you put a straw in it before making your way over to Roman. 
His gaze alone was enough to give you shivers, Roman watched your movements like he was waiting for the right time to strike and make you his meal. 
“Here you go, Mr. Sionis.” 
Roman reached for the drink, his cold hand brushing yours ever so slightly sending shivers down your spine. “What’s the matter, princess, too cold? I know a way or two to warm my fingers up.” he winked. 
Pulling your hand back, you could feel Harvey burning holes into Roman’s chest as he continued to openly flirt with you not bothering to turn his gaze away from your exposed chest. 
“Will that be all, Mr. Sionis?” you asked, clasping your hands behind your back.
Deciding he had enough fun, he waved you away before looking at Harvey. “Such a polite little thing, how long did it take you to train her?” he asked, sipping his drink. 
The second you were close enough, Harvey grabbed your waist and pulled you down to rest on his knee. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he threatened, placing a kiss to the back of your throat. Your hand came to rest on his knee, squeezing gently as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder enough to leave a mark. 
“It’s a joke, Dent.” Roman chuckled, “Lighten up some,”
You felt his hand wrap around your middle, securing you against his chest resting his chin on your shoulder. 
“Both of ya, shut the ‘ell up and play the fuckin’ game!” Oswald snapped, dueling out the cards. “Buch o’ bloody wankers.” 
Picking up the cards dealt to him, Harvey kept you close. There was no way in hell he was letting anyone, especially Roman get their grubby hands on you. Looking at his cards, he reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of bills. 
“Put half of that on the table for me baby doll,” he said, eyeing you as your body arched over to toss half the wad on the table. Handing it back to him, he took the bills, grinning as he stuffed them into your top. “Why don’t you keep that safe for me?” 
“Yes, sir Mr. Dent.” you breathed, feeling his fingers lightly brush against your nipples through the top.
Content with your reaction, Harvey leaned back in his seat as you turned and draped your legs across his lap. Placing his hand on your knees, he pulled you close. Watching his hand, he glanced at the other two before setting his cards down. 
“What’s with that look Dent, confident or scared you’ll lose?” Roman called, glancing up from his cards. 
“What, worried you’ll lose to me?” 
“I thought you liked to leave things to chance or was that all an act?” 
Harvey didn’t like the fact Roman was trying to goad him into betting more money. Looking at his cards again, he still had a high chance to win. Turning to look at you, Harvey slid a finger into your top and pulled it back enough to pull out the bills and toss them onto the table. 
You weren’t happy he fell for Roman’s obvious ploy at trying to rile him up. These poker games were meant to be simple fun between crime lords, but you knew how dangerous they could be. One second they were betting money, and the second someone’s ego got fluffed they gambled away their firstborn child. 
Hours passed, and you watched as they played through three games already and dealt out the fourth and final round. Each man won a round each, and this one was to take home the cake to prove who was the best poker player. Roman had a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you didn’t like the results that could come of that.
Oswald was oddly the most generous of the three, offering you free champagne and even a platter of sandwiches that were prepared just for you. 
Harvey however, refused to let you off his lap. He worried the second he let go, you would disappear. It said a lot when he didn’t trust his own men with you, but he trusted Roman and Oswald’s men even less. 
“Final round boys, ‘ow ‘bout we up the stakes?” Oswald asked, tossing the final few cards. 
Roman grinned, his teeth a shocking white against the dark of the room. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a folded piece of paper with his handwriting scrawled across it. “One free night with any girl of your choosing from my club.” Tossing the paper onto the table, his gaze turned to Oswald. 
“Up that, you old bird.” 
“Shut up!” Oswald thought long and hard, he didn’t have anything like that to bet. He didn’t dabble in sex clubs or prostitutes. He had more class than that, but he did have something a lot of people sought after. 
Pulling a piece of paper out, he wrote his offer illegible from your distance. True to form, Oswald Cobblepott had chicken scratch handwriting. 
“One free night, in the private secluded box in the Iceberg Lounge. Enough for you and two guests.” 
Nodding appreciatively, Roman smiled and turned his gaze to you and Harvey. His smile didn’t waver one bit, as if he knew what was about to happen next. “What are you going to bet, Dent? It seems money isn’t an option, fuck knows we have plenty of it.” 
“He could bet tha’ little ‘ore of ‘is?” 
Harvey’s grip tightened on your waist, holding you protectively against him. 
“What’s the matter Dent, I thought you were confident in your card skills?” Roman grinned, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. 
“No.” he growled. “She isn’t for sale.” 
“Oh come on Dent, why don’ you let the coin decide?” Oswald chuckled, knowing full well what Harvey would do. 
You watched as he reached into his pocket, toying with his coin between his fingers. 
“Harvey, you can’t be serious?” you asked, muttering into his ear. “I thought you said I wasn’t for sale, remember?” 
“Relax doll,” he said, turning his gaze to you. Harvey knew it was reckless, but he couldn’t refuse what the coin decides. “Have a little faith in me,” 
You watched with wide eyes as he set the standard. Heads, it was a no. Tails, you were to be placed on the betting table. The deal was one night, equal to that of the others and you had more than monetary value to Harvey. Or so you hoped. 
Flipping the coin, you held your breath watching as he caught it and flipped it onto the back of his hand to reveal the damaged side of his double-sided coin. 
Your voice died in your throat, looking at him with a concerned look. 
“You fucking asshole,” you snapped getting off his lap to stand behind him. There was no way you could watch this hand play out, not when your virtue was on the line. 
“Now that the bets have been placed, let’s play some cards, boys.” Roman grinned and began the round, his eyes not leaving your figure once. 
The next twenty minutes were some of the most agonizing twenty minutes of your life. You watched in worry as Harvey played the game. His hand was pretty good, but did that mean it was better than the others? At some point, you had to stop watching, the anxiety making it too much to bear knowing your fate rested in the cards. Biting your nail, you watched as they finally folded and waited for the results. 
Oswald flipped his card, showing that he had a full house. Not bad, but there were higher hands to play that could win.
Roman chuckled, flipping his cards over to reveal a four of a kind all in diamonds. That was a pretty damn good hand, if Harvey didn’t have a better hand it seemed you would be going home with Roman Sionis spending your night filled with Kinky Blow Jobs and Juicy Pussies. You couldn’t deny the man oozed sex appeal, but you wanted it on your terms and not from a fucking poker game. 
Clenching your fists, you watched as Harvey tsked and turned his cards to reveal a straight flush. “Sorry boys, but Y/N is going home with me tonight.” 
You watched Roman clench his jaw, irritated at the fact he lost a night with you all to himself. Getting from his seat, he put a hand in his pocket and adjusted his cigar. “Well played Dent, next time maybe you won’t be so lucky.” 
Both Oswald and Harvey got to their feet and shook hands. “Good game gentlemen, same time next month?” 
Harvey put all of his stuff into a bag before walking over to you. He didn’t miss the glare you were giving him, nor did he miss the way Roman sauntered up to you taking your hand and pulling you closer. 
“Such a shame to miss out on a night with you, princess. Maybe Dent will bring you along again next time and we’ll see what happens then.” He pulled your hand up to his lips, placing a kiss to your smooth skin. 
Giving him a hard glare, you bit your cheek. “You may be nice on the eyes Mr. Sionis, but you might want to remember you can’t buy the best things in life.” you snapped, pulling your hand away. “And I don’t come cheap.” 
Harvey bit his lip to hide his chuckle at the sight of Roman’s face. Walking over he wrapped an arm around your waist, planting a hand firmly on your ass. He knew you were pissed at him, it seemed he had a lot to make up for. 
“Later boys,” he called walking out with you on his side. As a silent promise, his large hand gripped your ass roughly while you walked, the skirt riding up to expose the underside of your cheek and black thong. 
“That fucker,” Roman growled, walking out himself. 
***
Harvey led you back to the car, where your driver and security detail waited. 
“You have a lot of groveling ahead of you Dent if you even think about sleeping in the same bed tonight.” 
Leaning to press soft kisses to your throat, Harvey wrapped both arms around you as he kissed your collar. “How about I start right now,” he muttered against your skin. “I know how much you love being fucked in the backseat.” 
Gripping his hair, you tipped your head back breathing heavily from his onslaught of kisses and public display. His hands wandered lower, toying with the bottom of your skirt as he pressed you against the car door. 
“You’re lucky you’re hot.”
Harvey grinned against your skin, before looking at the driver. “You go ahead with security, I have some business to attend to.” he grabbed the keys and unlocked the door, pulling away long enough to watch you slide in and spread your legs for him to see your dripping cunt on full display to him and anyone else around. Sucking in a harsh breath, he dove in after you and shut the door, locking it behind him. 
His lips were on yours in an instant, hips prying your legs further apart, the skirt bunched up to give him access. Harvey mumbled soft apologies against your skin as he left open-mouthed kisses across your collar. His hands danced across your thighs, as they made their way up to your pussy. 
Letting out a sigh, you arched your back feeling him swipe through your folds moaning at the sudden contact. His fingers entered into you, quickly stretching your hole to accommodate his cock to impatient to take his time with you. 
Gripping the leather of the seat, you moaned his name. “Harvey! Please!” 
Hearing your cries, his hand continued to thrust in and out of your pussy before pulling back and undoing his belt. Quick to pull out his cock, he fisted it several times watching you writhe and drip onto the leather beneath you. 
“Hold on baby doll,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you.” Gripping your hips, Harvey pushed your thong to the side and thrusted into you, bottoming out in two strokes. 
Your body spasmed, trying to take in all you were feeling. Sinful moans left your lips feeling him stretch you perfectly as he picked up the pace. All you could hear over your ragged breath was Harvey’s hushed apologies as his hips rutted into yours followed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.
You could feel the car rock back and forth from the force of his thrusts, Harvey desperate to make you cum. Reaching down, his thumb played with your clit making you tip your head back and kick against the door. 
“Oh fuck, Harvey!” you cried, gripping the back of his shirt. “I-I’m so close, baby. So close.” 
Hearing you gasp for air, Harvey thrusted harder into you knocking the air back out of your lungs watching as silent moans left your perfect lips. Your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back at the feeling of Harvey driving into you. 
Swearing as your walls clench around him, Harvey moaned your name, continuing his pace. “You look so perfect,” he praised. “So fucking perfect as your pretty pussy takes my cock.” 
Feeling the build-up, your thighs tensed around his waist while you clawed at his shirt. 
“Fuck! Harvey, I’m gonna--” your words were cut off by a loud moan as you came on his cock, feeling it drip down your exposed ass. 
Thrusting into you twice more, Harvey buried his cock inside you as he came, marking you as his as your mixed juices pooled beneath you. The smell of sex filled the car, as he continued to place kisses all over your body. 
Panting heavily, you pulled his head up to kiss him. “Oh fuck…” you muttered, resting back against the car seats. Harvey looked down at you, pressing kisses to your cheek. 
“Let me take you home doll, really make it up to you.” 
Barely hearing his words, you nodded and closed your eyes. Feeling him pull out of you, you whined at the loss of contact before feeling his lips on your neck. Letting out a hiss, you tilted your head to the side feeling him suck the skin between his teeth really marking you as his this time. 
Tucking himself back into his pants, Harvey climbed into the front seat and started the car before driving off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw you splayed across the back seat recovering from the orgasm he just gave you. He saw your lipstick smeared across his lips, chuckling at the thought of how fucked out he must look. 
You could still feel the ache Harvey left between your legs, begging to be used again. Reaching down, you slipped two fingers into your pussy trying to convince yourself that it was Harvey. The ache resided some, but it wasn't enough. 
“Harvey…” you whined, bucking your hips into your hand. “Please!”
Glancing at you in the mirror, Harvey swallowed hard as he watched your toy with yourself while begging for him. “I’m going doll, wait until we get home.” his voice strained, trying to keep himself from driving into traffic. 
Sliding a hand up, you gripped your own breast and played with your nipple through the top, continuing to finger yourself. “I want to feel you, baby, please! It’s too much!” 
Going faster than the speed limit, Harvey palmed his growing bulge as he listened to the squelching of your fingers pumping your mixed juices back into you. With every whine and moan, his pants got tighter until it was so painful he couldn’t focus. 
Pulling into the garage, he all but jumped out of the car before walking over to the door and pulling it open to see you fucking yourself until you came. Loud moans left your lips, echoing across the garage as Harvey watched you pull your fingers out and lick them clean. 
“Holy fucking shit doll,” he muttered, pulling you out of the car. Kicking the door shut, he helped you balance on your feet before leading you up to the bedroom, his hands not leaving your body once. 
“When we get there, I’ll make it all up to you,” he promised, muttering against your shoulder. “I’ll worship every inch of you, give you a special gift and everything.” His hands roamed your body, reveling in the way you shivered under his touch. He’ll make you forget all about his stupid bet, and make you feel so good you won’t want to leave the bed.
Leaning into his touch, you walked with him as he opened the door. “You still have a lot of apologizing left to do, better get started.”
Harvey hummed into your shoulder, leading you towards the bedroom of your lavish apartment. Entering the room, he led you to the mirror and held you against his chest. You watched his hands as they traveled up your body before grabbing your breasts through your top and giving them a tight squeeze. 
“You’ve been teasing me all night with this fucking top,” he grumbled, listening to your airy breaths as he played with your breasts. “Who the fuck thought it was legal to sell you this shirt?” 
“The sales per-person,” you gasped, leaning into his touch. Feeling him pinch your nipples, you hissed pressing your ass into his crotch. 
Keeping a hand on your breasts, the other slid down your body sending little bolts of electricity everywhere he touched you. “And this fucking skirt, so fucking tight around your little ass everyone was looking at what belongs to me.” 
His lips trailed from your shoulder up to your cheek, not taking his eyes from your flustered form. You could see his eyes burning into yours as you turned your face to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.
You felt his hands slide the skirt off of you, the leather pooling at your feet. Trailing over the soft skin of your stomach, he pulled at the top trying to get it off you. You could tell Harvey was getting impatient, so you pulled away from the kiss and guided his hands into taking it off your body. 
Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your black thong and heels, you couldn’t help but admire Harvey’s hands as they traced over every inch of you he could reach. Slowly, you stepped out of your heels as Harvey’s fingers dipped into the straps and began to pull the thong down your hips. 
Kneeling as he pulled it down, Harvey nipped lightly at your ass causing you to jump in surprise letting out a little squeal. Chuckling at your surprise, Harvey got back on his feet turning you to look at him. 
“How about a present for the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen?” he asked, holding you against him. 
Biting your lip, you gave him a nod as he led you over to the bed and made you sit. 
“Stay put,” then he walked off and disappeared to get whatever it was he was going to give you.
It took a few minutes for him to come back, holding three boxes all wrapped in deep red bows. What could Harvey have gotten you this time? The last time he decided to give you something, it was the deed to a whole island that he named after you. 
No one got to see this side of Harvey Dent, the side that truly loved you and strived to prove it with extravagant gifts, expensive trips, and more. 
Giving him a playful look, You watched as he knelt before you and placed the boxes at your feet. Pressing a kiss to your knee, he handed you the first box. “Go ahead, open it.” 
Taking the package from his hands, you lifted the top off and pushed back the tissue paper. Pulling the item out, you saw that it was a black and white lace lingerie set, complete with garter belts. Holding it up, you looked at Harvey to see his delight in you liking the first gift. 
“Oh Harvey, it’s beautiful.” you praised holding it against the expanse of your body. 
“I’d say try it on, but why don’t we save it for another night?” he chuckled, watching you move the box to the side only for him to place another on your lap. 
Giving him a look, you could tell this one was heavier than the last and that probably meant it cost more. Pulling off the lid and unwrapping it, you saw that it was a beautiful necklace with several strands of pearls strung across. 
You gasped, holding it up and looking at him. “Harvey, what did I say about expensive gifts?” 
“That cost nowhere as much as the island.” he smiled. “I thought I could get some pearls for my favorite girl.” Leaning up, he took it from you and clasped it around your neck watching as they cascaded down your chest and over your breasts. 
“Perfect,” he muttered, kissing your cheek. 
Turning your head to meet his lips, you pulled him into a kiss running your fingers through his hair. The cold pearls sent shivers across your body as Harvey pressed himself against you. “Baby doll-- fuck.” he chuckled, feeling your hands trail over his chest trying to unbutton his shirt. “I still have one more present for you,” 
“That can wait until you’re done apologizing,” you grinned, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. 
Harvey gripped your waist, lifting you higher onto the bed as he crawled over you. “I was hoping you’d use it as an apology,” he groaned against your lips as you continued to undress him. 
Your fingers danced along the waist of his pants as you unbuttoned them, sliding them down his legs. Raking your nails over his exposed skin, you helped him out of his pants and boxers moaning as you felt his mouth kiss everywhere he could reach. 
Moving down your body, he kissed every inch until he got to your hips. Nuzzling your skin, he bit into you leaving teeth marks on your hip. Harvey loved to see you all marked up, further proving that you belonged to him and no one else. 
Making his way further down, he propped your thighs over his shoulders and sucked on the supple skin enjoying the taste of your mixed juices and sweat. Leaving a trail of bruises up your thigh, Harvey licked between your folds holding your hips down as you cried out.
“Oh, Harvey!” Your hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer as he continued to lick you clean. Your hips continued to move against his face, as he brushed your clit with his nose. 
Harvey’s tongue sent jolts all through your body, overwhelmed by the feeling of his ministrations through your folds. Your toes curled, feeling him enter a finger into you slowly pumping it in and out of you. 
Moaning against your cunt, Harvey added a second finger pumping them in and out of you at a sensual pace wanting you to feel every bit of it. 
“Please!” you gasped, pulling at his hair. “Please don’t stop,” 
Hearing you beg made him chuckle, the vibrations against your clit sending you closer and closer to the edge. Between his warm tongue and cool fingers, Harvey had you dangling over the cliff as if he was daring you to let go. 
You let out a scream feeling him brush the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers, massaging it until your throat was raw from your screaming. Glancing up at you, Harvey grinned seeing you so lost in the pleasure he was giving you. 
“Fuck!” you tugged on his hair harshly, earning a soft moan from his lips sending more little shocks into you as he laid claim to your pussy. “Harvey! Baby-- oh! Don’t stop!” you pleaded, digging your heels into his back. 
Curing his fingers again, he felt your walls spasm around him as you came coating his hand and face in your juices. Your voice echoed around the room from crying out his name, relaxing back into the bed. 
Harvey’s face was still buried between your thighs, refusing to quit. 
“Come on doll, cum on my face again.” he groaned, peeking up at you. You looked to see your cum smeared across his lips and chin, continuing to finger you trying to coax your body into another orgasm. 
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, getting back to it. You couldn’t hear much over the ringing in your ears, but you swore you heard the words ‘favorite meal’ leave his lips as he licked you clean. 
“H-Harv-- oh fuck! I-I can’t..” you whined, feeling yourself being brought up again. 
“You can do it, I know you can baby doll.” he muttered against your body, “Give me another, and I’ll fuck you properly until you beg me to stop.” 
His words made your head swim, the thought of his cock buried within you while feeling like this was enough to make you cum again, screaming his name. 
Harvey lapped up every drop he could, making sure he licked your pussy clean only for him to defile it again. Unable to take anymore, you pulled his head up and over to kiss you. You could taste your arousal on his tongue as it mingled with yours in your mouth. 
His hands placed themselves on your breasts, kneading them as the pearls rolled around his hands and towards your cleavage. Harvey enjoyed seeing you wear nothing but the pearls, as they bounced around your breasts while you moved.
Not wanting to waste another second, Harvey lifted his hips before thrusting into you again. Your tight cunt was enough to make his hips stutter, feeling your velvet walls wrapped around his cock. 
“Fuck doll,” he muttered against your lips. “You feel so fuckin--” his breath caught in his throat feeling you pulse around his shaft, cutting off his words before picking up the pace. You were nothing more than a blissful fucked out mess as Harvey continued to drive his hips into yours. 
Feeling the ecstasy build up, you dug your nails into his back leaving marks that would last for days. 
“Harvey!”
Not able to get out anything but his name, your body succumbed to the intense feeling as another orgasm took over you leaving you gasping for air. 
Burying his face in your shoulder, Harvey continued to thrust into you before cumming deep within you. Unable to take anymore, he let his body collapse against yours, melting together covered in sweat and cum. 
Brushing your hair out of your eyes, he cupped your face and looked at you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and Harvey would never understand what you saw in an asshole like him. Carefully, he lifted his hips and pulled out before lying next to you. 
Turning your head, you gave him a soft smile and kissed his lips. Wrapping his arms around you, Harvey pulled you close enjoying the warmth of your body. 
“Did I do good enough?” he asked, brushing his lips against yours. 
“Apology accepted,” 
Taglist: @catxsnow @niggxrette @subtleappreciation @littleredwing89 @offendedfishnoises @angstigone @batarella @alienstardust @illzarr @foenixphire​
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partlystiles · 3 years
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So, I noticed you write for Peter Pettigrew,,, I was wondering if you could write something for him and a female s/o? Where he has to introduce his incredibly shy, Hufflepuff s/o to the other Marauders. Bonus points if she’s short, like 4’11-5’0. You can ignore this if you’d prefer not to write it. Have a wonderful day.
i will always write for my baby. your wish is my command. also sorry if this isn’t what you were imagining!
Young!Peter Pettigrew x fem!reader
summary: For days Peter had been non-stop talking to his friends about his girlfriend and for the life of them, they could never catch him with her. Peter hated getting bothered by them as much as he did so to put them at ease, he arranges an introduction. 
word count: 2,307
warning: swearing. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hallways of Hogwarts were ones of great architecture and historic stories that the many portraits of old witches and wizards absolutely loved to talk and brag about. Students and ghosts alike walked along the corridors every day without really admiring it apart from when statues liked to jump out at them or portraits grabbed their attention with things varying from manic laughter to noisy singing. It truly was a work of art.
It looked like somewhere royals or people in high society back in the olden days would come to stay for their Honeymoon or just for a small change of scenery and no matter how strict the rules, how tidy the uniforms or how high the expectations, students definitely did not act as tidy or as civilised as a royal or a lady or lord would do.
A prime example would be groups of rowdy teenage boys thinking insulting innocent bystanders or making creepy comments about a girls body would be a proper thing to do in a hallway as grand as the ones in Hogwarts. Another example would be the much rowdier, much more irresponsible pranksters of Hogwarts that rivalled against the other boys in witty comments or just funny circumstances.
You often rolled your eyes at their work or mutter quietly about them under your breath when they passed, practically yelling for the whole corridor to hear unless they were about to pull a prank and whispering which is where you would normally make your leave from that particular corridor. But they seemed to be everywhere you went and you didn’t see why until a particular member of the group approached you in the Kitchens one night when you were getting your midnight snack from the house elves.
He said he liked you which made you look around for maybe a sign of the other boys in wonder if this was some sort of prank. But it wasn’t and he...actually liked you. It definitely didn’t escape your notice that the boy was one of the quiet ones and seemed to be holding his breath when he confessed. Sadly, the confession was right before the summer so all you could do was send letters over the holidays which were slightly awkward. 
More so when you returned to school and found yourself glancing at each other from across the hallways before you turned and scurried off in another direction after smiling. Then he began to join you on your midnight snack journeys which developed into a beautiful relationship full of blushes, grins and soft, gentle kisses stolen before you had to separate.
Pranks your way were avoided and you were practically living in bliss until he proposed that he wanted you to meet his friends. As in the rowdy ones, as in the ones that get all the good scores no matter how hard you try and the ones that always disrupt your reading time in the library.
It was safe to say that you were  nervous because you were nothing like them, loud noises weren’t your thing and you’d much prefer to curl up next to the Black Lake with a book in your hand then join the group of boys in the Great Hall where they probably threw food at each other and if someone else's food ever touched you, you felt like you might be sick. Not to mention the fact that all of them are giants compared to you.
“They are going to love you.” Peter promised, his grip on your hand tight as he tried to drag you down the hallway whilst you planted your feet firmly to the ground. For someone so small, he was amazed at how much you can resist his pull.
“They’re going to hate me.” You argued back attempting to pull him the other way but definitely not succeeding. “I’m awkward and lonely and weird and obsessed with bees which is definitely not normal.”
“It’s cute.” He chuckled, giving up on his pulling but being pulled towards you by your grip when he had given up. You stumbled but he grabbed you arms and stabilised you before you could fall forward and hit the floor. “You’re cute.”
“I am not like them.” You took yourself out of his arms with a mutter, frowning slightly whilst Peter frowned too. “They’re loud and you’ve been friends with them forever and I’m just new. If they don’t like me then we’re gonna...”
“I’m not gonna break up with you if they don’t like you.” Peter shook his head and stepped close, his hand reaching down to tilt your chin up so he was looking down into your eyes. “They’ll love you...I promise.”
“I’m just nervous, I’ve never even thought of being friends with them. They’re just so loud and I...I’m quiet and shy and I stick my face in a book every time they come near me. I just know that they’ll find me weird, Peter.” You covered your face with you hands, shaking your head.
“Oh, baby...” He wrapped his arms around you in a hug and you welcomed it gratefully, hopefully he would listen to you...but no, Peter lifted you up and put you easily over his shoulder as you yelped and kicked your legs. “Come on.”
“Peter, no, please.” You begged as he walked down the corridor with you over his shoulders and consequently receiving a lot of stares which you shyly leant your head on his back to try and get rid of the stares. You were just happy that it was the weekend and you were wearing jeans instead of a skirt. “Pete, please put me down.”
“Not until we’re at the hall and you see how excited they are to meet you.” He laughed as you groaned at him and nuzzled your head into his back as you turned a corner. Your palms were beginning to get sweaty and you felt your breathing pick up slightly at you nervousness.
“Peter, seriously.” Your voice had retreated to a small murmur, no longer were you joking around. You really didn’t think that his friends would like you, they were confident and charming and you were reserved, flustered easily and talked about bees all the time. Hell, in the summer you were in an environmental protest against pollution whilst they were probably having fun swimming somewhere.
“You’ll be fine, angel. We’re here.” He said and slowly lowered you from his shoulder, you nervously glanced around when you noticed you were outside the Great Hall and you looked into it to see the familiar three boys sat at the Gryffindor Table. “Hey.” You looked at Peter again. “I’ll be right there with you. They may be tall and slightly intimidating but they’re nice.”
“Sirius once spilt tea on my book and didn’t apologise.”
“He’s an energetic guy, he probably didn’t notice.” Peter tilted his head and you nodded in acceptance, pursing your lips. When he did it, you didn’t confront him and just moved away mumbling under your breath and shaking out your book. “Ready?”
You hesitated as he took your hand and started walking into the Great Hall, dragging you behind him with a small grin on his face.
“No.” You finally answered, gulping and stepping closer to Peter as you got closer to the three boys flinging pieces of bread at each other.
“Too slow.” Peter grinned back at you, tugging you along and you whined, deciding to catch up to him but walk behind him in an attempt to hide from the others. You were there in no time and tucked yourself behind Peter, hoping that your size would prevent you from being seen. “Hey boys, since you’ve been asking...here she is.”
You only heard silence as you stayed behind Peter, gulping nervously. 
“I fucking knew she was imaginary, I called it.” The voice of Sirius Black came from in front  of Peter before he exclaimed in pain after sounding like he was being hit with something. 
Out of curiosity, you tried to peak out from behind your boyfriends shoulder as little as possible but a pair of soft brown eyes met yours instead and you found yourself frozen in place as you stared straight at Remus Lupin and he raised his eyebrows at you. You slowly went back behind Peter, knowing it was stupid because he’d seen you but you did it anyway, raised eyebrows could mean a million different things.
“She’s not imaginary, Padfoot, she’s just behind him.” Remus said and you shut your eyes in regret as your forehead fell forward and hit Peter’s back whilst he moved out of the way and you were faced with three pairs of eyes staring up at you. “Hi, I’m Remus.”
“James.”
“Sirius, but you can call me anytime.”
Peter took a daily prophet off of the table and hit him on the head with it as Sirius laughed and raised his hands in defence, you smiled awkwardly at it and avoided all eye contact. Your hand squeezed Peter’s slightly and he looked between you and his friends, frowning again.
“This is Y/N L/N, my girlfriend.” He introduced and gestured you forward slightly, you glanced up and gave a small wave at them. James was smiling at you, Remus was smiling only a little bit but mainly just examining you and Sirius narrowed his eyes at you before standing.
He towered over you and you gulped as you tilted your head up and his grey eyes examined you with a small smirk tugging at his lips. You backed up slightly, Peter’s hand on the small of your back as he stroked soft circles with his thumb. You continued to avoid eye contact.
“You are tiny.” He stated and you nodded with a small clear of your throat, your eyes trained to the floor. “Well, to me you are. I’m sure Pete has an easier time since he’s tiny too.”
“5′9 is not tiny.” Peter defended and Sirius snorted, sitting back down at his chair as you breathed out in slight relief and stood awkwardly for a second.
“Take a seat if you like, we don’t bite.” James smiled and you about to tell him that it was okay and you didn’t actually want to be there anywhere but Peter nodded encouragingly at you and you sat opposite Lupin, Peter sitting next to you and putting an arm around your waist to let you know that he was there and close.
“So how did you two meet?” Remus asked, biting a bit of his sandwich as James nodded from next to him, both of their gazes were on you and you could feel Sirius staring at you too. 
You thought Peter was going to answer so you looked up at him but he was looking at you too, nodding his head and he gave your waist a quick squeeze. You gulped and turned your head back around, eyes trained to the table.
“Well, uh, I was getting...a snack at night and then he, uh, came in and yeah...yeah.” You mumbled, clearing your throat slightly and looking up at the boys before back at the table and then back up at the boys. Your hands were fidgeting together under the table and your knee was bouncing.
“You snuck all the way to the kitchens at night without getting caught?” James widened his eyes as he looked around at his friends and you glanced up, back down again and then up one more time. 
“Well, I’m a- I’m a Hufflepuff so my common room is uh...right next to the kitchens.” You nodded slowly.
“Useful.” Sirius said and you glanced at him quickly, furrowing your eyebrows at his narrowed eyes as he looked at you.
“I-I don’t understand...useful for what?” You looked around at them all nervously, Sirius was the one to answer so you looked at him again and found him smirking down at you.
“Pranks.” He shrugged his shoulders, grinning and you gulped again, nodding and smiling awkwardly as you turned your head to Peter who smiled again and rubbed his hand on your waist. “So, Y/N my tiny friends tiny girlfriend, what do you like to do?”
“I’m uh, I’m a passionate advocate for environmental change.” You said, nodding as your eyes found comfort on the table once more. Glancing up once, you caught Remus’ smile as he looked at you and you awkwardly smiled back. “I like to read, anything really no genres. I love exploring different cultures and uh...I like bees.”
“Bees?” James furrowed his eyebrows with a grin as he leaned forward and you nodded awkwardly. “That’s adorable.”
“Why do you like bees?” Sirius laughed. “Is it because they’re yellow and black like your tie?”
“Well, almost 90% of wild plants and 75% of leading global crops depend on animal pollination so they do a lot for us and they look nice on the flowers in my garden.” You said and glanced up to them all smiling at you.
“I’ll have to see your garden sometime.” James mentioned and your eyes snapped over to him as your fidgeting hands slowed down but your knee kept bouncing. “I love flowers. Especially Lilies.”
The boys all laughed and even you managed to crack a small smile at James’ infamous crush on Gryffindor Lily Evans. You felt Peter’s hand squeeze your hip slightly and you looked over at him, your eyes managing to lock in comparison to how you avoided the rest of their gazes. You were sure that your cheeks were flushed at the attention you got but Peter only smiled and kissed your cheek as you scrunched your face up with an adorable smile in his opinion.
“I told you they’d love you.” He whispered into your ear, kissing  your cheek again before you both directed your attention back to Sirius’ talking. 
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tellerluna-stories · 3 years
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ii. rex lapis
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The sands of time shifted once more, and now Rex Lapis ruled over Liyue. His land overflowed with wealth, and all who passed through Liyue saw their businesses prosper. The people who now walked the paved streets of Liyue had happily never known the tragedies of war, and they lived out their lives in blissful ignorance.
Within the Golden House, Rex Lapis paced around restlessly. His horns and claws were nowhere to be seen, as Liyue had no need for such instruments of war. The simple white robes he had donned for battle had been replaced with layers of multicoloured ceremonial robes and intricate headdresses that only the finest artisans could craft.
With these robes came great honour and responsibility, a reminder that the fate of Liyue rested solely upon the shoulders of Rex Lapis. Though they were made of mere fabric, at times Rex Lapis felt that they weighed heavier than chains of pure gold.
He sighed and fiddled with his sleeves— though he was, in fact, the reason mora existed in the very first place, he had to admit he was tired of seeing the same golden shimmer that surrounded him everywhere he looked.
“My lord.”
Without even turning around, he replied, “I told you not to be so formal with me.”
“Alright, alright.” You smiled and spread your hands disarmingly. “Thousands of years, but you’re still as legalistic as ever.”
Unlike Rex Lapis, you had not chosen to change too much about yourself in the years following the Archon War, whether in appearance or personality. It somewhat brought him comfort knowing that in a world that was constantly changing too fast for him to keep up, there was still one person who could keep him anchored; no matter what era you were in, you could always quickly adjust to the practices and customs around you without forcing yourself to mold to them.
“Thousands of years, and I still need to remind you that titles are unnecessary, my friend.”
“Ah, but the question is: am I genuinely forgetting to drop them, or do I keep using them just to irk you?”
He turned around, face carefully devoid of any emotion. “My friend, do you happen to fear the wrath of the Rock?”
He watched in satisfaction as the smug look on your face quickly morphed into one of fearful respect. “As a matter of fact I do, so let’s change the topic. Your robes are simply majestic, my— I mean, Rex Lapis!”
“Do you not have one just like this?” Rex Lapis looked down at his embellished sleeves— the people of Liyue had gifted both of you with ceremonial robes, but he had yet to see you wear them. “If I recall, yours had the phoenix embroidered on the front.”
“Oh yes, I still have it with me.” You bent over and inspected the nearest pile of mora, brushing the golden coins with your fingertips. “I don’t wear it much since it restricts my movements, but maybe I will if there’s a special occasion.”
“I would like to see you wear it someday, if you choose to. You’d look absolutely stunning.”
He waited for some witty comeback, the usual jokes you’d make in response to his compliments— but you remained oddly silent, hunched over the little pile of mora like a bird guarding its nest.
“My friend...?”
Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, unknowingly sending an electric current running through your veins.
“Ah, yes, yes! I was just, uh—“ Hurriedly, you jumped to your feet and dusted your hands off on your clothes. “I was just trying to remember where my robe was, that’s all. I stored it away but I don’t exactly remember where— you know how it is, right?”
Yes, you had just forgotten where you had last put that phoenix robe, as though you still didn’t clean it and carefully air it out at least once a month. That robe was one of the few things you treasured dearly, as it was a gift from the people you watched over... and perhaps also because it was a gift that matched with his.
The heat rushing to your face and the quickening of your heartbeat upon hearing him say you’d look stunning— that was out of pure embarrassment, nothing more. He only meant it out of kindness, now, don’t misinterpret his words.
Clearing your throat hastily, you tried to change the subject. “Did you know that there’s a full moon tonight?”
“Is there, now?” He tilted his head to the side; a somewhat endearing habit of his, left over from when he had horns. “I have not left this place in quite some time; the people of Liyue are a little too concerned for my safety to let me venture outside often.”
“They haven’t....?”
But Rex Lapis merely smiled in reply, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. “It’s only natural for young people to be overprotective of the ones who take care of them. I’m sure they would do the same for you if you just let them, my friend.”
“You sounded very old when you said that, my lord.”
“Pardon?”
“I said your words shone like gold when you said that, my lord.”
He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but you only returned his gaze with a look of pure, angelic innocence. There was no way he could say anything against you, especially not with that look on your face.
“My lord,” You said, with that innocent look still plastered on your face. “Given that you haven’t gone outside in a while, what say you to accompanying one such as myself on an outing this fine evening?”
“An outing, you say?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to contemplate the idea, silently observing as your eyes lit up with poorly-hidden anticipation. “Where would one go at this hour? It would cause quite a stir if Rex Lapis were to suddenly disappear from his position, with no reasonable explanation.”
To that you raised a finger upwards in reply, pointing to the cavernous roof of the Golden House.
“Technically, you wouldn’t be leaving.” Holding out your hand to him, you smiled and said, “Shall we watch the stars together, then?”
———
“This is incredibly reckless.”
“It’s also incredibly exciting, don’t you think?”
Barely-suppressed laughter bubbled up into your throat as you looked at the great Rex Lapis, who had awkwardly bunched up his robes around his knees. There was no way he could climb to the top of the roof without either damaging his (very costly, one-of-a-kind) robe, or getting him tangled into a mummy wrapping of fine silk.
“Your laughter does not go unnoticed, by the way.” He said, glowing amber eyes trained on the vast ascent of roof tiles before him. “Since this was your idea, how about you think of a solution to this problem?”
The cool night breeze whistled in your ears like a distant flute, and he shivered slightly; it was best to think of a solution quickly, lest Liyue be in uproar over the dignified Rex Lapis catching a mere cold.
You squinted at the rooftop, trying to analyse the best way to scale it with as little collateral damage to your superior as possible. It was certainly possible, especially with your talents as an adeptus (and also because your position did not require such cumbersome clothing), but there would have to be some rather... unusual measures taken.
“Do you trust me?”
He blinked in confusion. “What strange sort of question is—“
Before he could finish, you lifted him off the ground as though you were carrying a princess.
“Hold on tight, my lord.” You whispered, your lips only a few breaths away from his ear. “It may be a little bit unstable.”
He barely had time to wrap his arms around your neck as you leapt into the air, nimbly bounding off the golden tiles like a deer.
What exactly was this situation he was in? Moreover, what was this odd sensation swelling in his heart?
“Mind your sleeves, Rex- I mean, my lord!” You huffed. “I can’t see where I’m stepping if you decide to obscure my sight, which isn’t exactly the best choice for you right now.”
With one final jump, you landed safely on the topmost roof of the Golden House. He could only stare at you blankly as he tried to process what had just happened in the past few minutes— however, you caught onto his stare too easily.
“What, are you surprised that I was able to pull that off?” Shaking your head vigorously to remove the flyaway hair from your eyes, you frowned at him in a jesting manner. “Don’t tell me you’ve been underestimating my abilities this whole time, my lord.”
“No.” He replied immediately. “I would never.”
“That’s what I thought.” With a nod of satisfaction, you gently set him down onto the roof. “Here is the moon and stars for you, as promised.”
Rex Lapis raised his eyes to the sky that he had not seen in some time, and the heavens did not disappoint.
Overhead, the galaxy stretched out in a rich tapestry of hues, stars interwoven in between the threads like beads of precious stones. A full moon hung in the sky, a pearl of great price that took all the beauty that surrounded it and unified it into a beautiful symphony of colours.
For the first time in a while, he felt free— up here with you by his side, there were no such things as duty and responsibility. There were only the two of you in this quiet, peaceful place, with the heavens above as your only witness.
“A lovely night, don’t you think?” You grinned and put your hands on your hips, the wind toying with your hair ever so slightly. “The minute I saw this, I knew you simply couldn’t miss it; not in a thousand years.”
His gaze lingered on the picture of you bathed in a soft halo of moonlight, smiling dreamily at the stars above. “...Very lovely, indeed.”
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jolting suddenly, you fumbled as you brought out a brass bottle and a pair of teacups from seemingly thin air. “I figured it would be cold out, so I prepared something, just in case.” You gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat while you’re waiting— can’t have the ruler of Liyue standing around waiting for me to serve him, can I?”
“Your judgement is as impeccable as ever, my friend. Whatever would I do without you?”
You rolled your eyes as you began to unscrew the cap of the bottle. “Such flattery is unnecessary. We both know that you could manage Liyue just as well if you were on your own.”
“That doesn’t mean I would want to.” He hesitated, unsure if what he would say next would make you uneasy. “You have done more for me and for Liyue than you could possibly imagine, and I... I sincerely wish for you to know that. You have just as an important role in Liyue as I do, and this place would not be what it is today without you.”
Pausing in what you were doing, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his— there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes and words. He truly meant what he was saying, and the way he worded it made your heart- no, no, this wasn’t the time for that.
“...Thank you, Rex Lapis. Those words mean a lot to me, especially coming from you.”
“Do my ears deceive me?” He put a hand to his mouth in mock disbelief. “Say that once more, my friend, I do not think I heard you well the first time.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” You glared at him. “It seems that your age is showing, my lord. Perhaps I should carry you back inside, if your age has really advanced so rapidly.“
“You called me Rex Lapis, for once. This is a day that this aged man shall remember for the rest of his life, and shall be inscribed into the history of Liyue as a momentous occasion—“
“The tea will grow cold long before your long-winded speech finishes, my lord. How about you drink first and talk later?”
Rex Lapis gave you an unimpressed stare. “Perhaps if you cease calling me ‘my lord’, I will think the matter over. When did you learn to brew tea, by the way?”
You returned his stare with one equally matched in unimpressed energy. “Over the years, I’ve found that the art of tea-brewing helped greatly in calming myself, and so I’ve been practicing ever since. Your cup, please— my lord.”
He rolled his eyes at your smug face and held out his cup.
A faint wisp of steam curled from the bottle as the dark liquid trickled into his teacup, along with some unknown plant matter. His thoughts must’ve shown clearly upon his face, for you burst out laughing upon seeing it. “It’s not poison, for Celestia’s sake! If I were planning to assassinate you, I would’ve done it eons ago.”
“And how is that meant to bring me any reassurance?”
“Oh, it wasn’t intended to.” You poured a cup for yourself and downed a sip of your concoction. “But no assassin would be fool enough to drink the poison intended for their target... except for me, possibly. Drink up!”
Rex Lapis still eyed the teacup in his hands suspiciously— but then again, you had never given any reason for him to doubt you, so why should he start now?
“So, is it good?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unique flavours on his tongue. “If I could, I would drink the tea you make everyday for the rest of eternity.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words; you choked, nearly sending the bottle of tea tumbling off of the roof. “Ah- er, well—“
“What, is that too humble of praise for it? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”
“No, it’s just- well, it sounds like a phrase I’ve heard among the merchants of Inazuma— oh, never mind. I’m glad you like it.”
“What did you put in it to make it taste so exquisite?”
Leaning closer to him, you whispered, “Petals of peach blossom and glaze lily flowers. Along with some other choice ingredients, but what truly gives it that taste and aroma is the flowers.”
Your face was close, closer than he ever even dreamed to approach in a million years; in the pale moonlight, your eyes glittered brighter than any jewel the earth could give. Any dragon would covet such a treasure and guard it with their very life.
How had he not noticed how mesmerizing your eyes were till tonight?
“Absolutely fascinating,” He murmured, before belatedly realizing he said it aloud.
“Isn’t it?” You hummed in agreement. “It’s my special brew. I experimented on it until I could perfectly balance the flavours to my liking.” Your gaze swiveled to the elaborate water gardens sprawled in front of the Golden House. “Do you want me to plant a peach tree and some glaze lilies by the front of the gate? I could do that, if you really do enjoy my tea that much.”
A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him; you hadn’t realised he wasn’t talking about the flowers.
He mused over the idea— it didn’t seem so bad, after all, but...
“I’d like to plant them somewhere more.... permanent. Somewhere we can watch them grow together.”
“Say the word, and your wish is my command.” You beamed at him. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll have them in full bloom for you in no time, no matter the season.”
A warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest, and Rex Lapis suddenly found it harder to breathe than before. His face felt oddly warm, while his hands were cold— was it a result of the night air? He wasn’t that old yet.
Anxious to change the topic before you cracked another joke about his age, he quickly asked, “How are the affairs of Liyue doing, my friend?”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “The trade routes are thriving splendidly. Many merchants from the other regions come to seek permission to transport goods to and from their lands, so I’ve been handling most of their affairs. Even picked up some of their languages while at it.” A mischievous smile spread across your face as you said, “Tu ne me comprends pas, non? Je t’aimerai pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour.”
“Impressive.” He hadn’t understood a word of what you had said, but he was almost dead certain that you were poking fun at him. “It is good to see that Liyue is in such capable hands. What about the—“
“—the adepti? Oh, they’re all doing quite well, I believe. They don’t really leave their abodes anymore, save for Madame Ping and young Ganyu.”
“How about—“
“Xiao? I visit him every now and then, to make sure he eats well and is doing alright. And yes, I bring him the painkillers you have specially made for him.” You paused. “He sends his greetings, and it is very obvious that that boy misses you, even if he won’t admit it himself.”
Rex Lapis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You really do know what I’m going to say, even before I say it.”
“What can I say? Even before you need to ask, you can consider it already done.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you scuffed the sole of your shoe against the roof tiles. “That’s why I’m here, after all. Who better than I to carry out the word of Rex Lapis?”
“You had best watch yourself there, my friend, lest your head grows too big for your shoulders.”
“Oh, but my lord, who was the one who gave me this position?” Propping your chin on your steepled fingers, you give him a smug look. “I seem to recall a certain someone appointing me as his right-hand, after all.”
“What has been given can just as swiftly be taken away.”
“You’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away, pointedly staring at the moon.
“So, what is the real reason you brought me up here?”
In an instant your head whipped back to meet his gaze, eyes wide and mouth agape. “How did you—“
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and now it was his turn to look smug. “You’re not the only one who can practically read minds, my friend. The facade you put up is better crafted than mine, but I can still see right through you.”
“Well...” You fell silent for a moment, fingers tracing along the sides of the brass bottle and etching invisible patterns into the metal with your fingernails. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”
Rex Lapis tilted his head slightly, confusion and curiosity melding into one feeling. “How I was doing?”
“I struggle sometimes... with the memories of those who have passed on. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment I forget; I get distracted or actually feel happy, but then I suddenly think of them, and I wonder if I actually have the right to enjoy myself.”
Shifting slightly, your expression was unreadable in the pale moonlight. “But lately, their faces have become blurry, and I get scared when I can’t remember what they look like. It’s the least I can do for my comrades, since I’m the only one left.” You pursed your lips. “Do you have the same problem?”
The somber look on your face stirred up the remorse that still gnawed at his heart, even after all these centuries. You had been suffering alone because of his mistakes, and it pained Rex Lapis even more knowing that no contract he wrote could remedy the empty gap in your heart. All he could do was sit with you and be something you could anchor yourself to, just the way you had been a steadfast rock to him.
He shifted to sit closer to you, no longer caring whether his robes would be dirtied or not. “Not quite the same problem.”
“...Oh.”
“Like you, even after so many years I still cannot help but think of them. Every detail of their lives, their voices and faces— I remember it all.” Rex Lapis looked up to the stars, where perhaps the constellations of your friends lay, and laughed dryly. “Mortal men have been blessed with forgetfulness, but it seems that I have been cursed to remember.”
Tentatively, he raised a hand to gently pat you on the head, just the way his caregiver used to when he was feeling out of sorts or upset. “But worry not, my friend. If what you worry about is forgetting, then I will be the one to remember everything for you.”
“You needn’t worry about me forgetting you, by the way.” You said quietly. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, I know that I’ll always remember you, no matter what form you take.”
The strange, fluttering feeling in his chest returned, coursing through his veins and flowing through his fingertips— subconsciously he pulled his hand away, fearing that those feelings would somehow reach you.
It’s merely the chill of the night air, he told himself.
You said nothing as he pulled away, but Rex Lapis found himself wishing you would say something, anything; complain, or make a joke out of it, or perhaps even ask him to do it again— no, he couldn’t dare dream of that.
Not for your sake.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You said suddenly, breaking the silence and the maze of thoughts his mind was trapped in.
Rex Lapis looked to the moon over Liyue Harbor, admiring the way it bathed the city in silver light. Though Liyue in the daytime was loud, filled with many colours and sounds that overwhelmed the senses, this version of Liyue was also beautiful to behold.
Perhaps... perhaps this is what she meant by living treasure, he thought to himself.
Caring for this city of people, nurturing them and building a better future for them and the future generations— that was certainly something close to his heart. It didn’t feel exactly like the living treasure he had expected, but as long as you were there to watch over Liyue with him, then perhaps... perhaps it would grow on him as time passed.
“Yes,” he agreed. “It truly is.”
But that evening, he failed to notice that you weren’t looking at the moon.
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givemethatgold · 3 years
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Fix’er Upper -Pt 14
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Paring: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Warnings: just a bunch of fluffy family fluff, some dude being a nosy creep, overbearing mothers Length: 1.1 k Notes: This one is slow, babes. Just needed to build a bit of this new world, introduce Annie a bit and show you how things are progressing. It’ll pick up again soon I promise, bear with me! (Or don’t, I mean I can’t force you to like where this is going, lolz) Also, just typed this up tonight while raging at the laziness of men, so there are going to be mistakes, I can’t be fucked to find them. Trying to post this with NO links, as I’ve heard that may be the reason for the tagging issues? LET ME KNOW IF YOU GET THE NOTIFICATION THIS TIME!
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Turns out, two people with zero child-caring experience are not going to have an easy time suddenly becoming parents. There wasn't any one particular thing that you could pinpoint the difficulty one, either, it was just a complete one-eighty on how you had previously lived your lives.
Frankie immediately stopped working such late hours, effectively putting a bookmark in the cider's expansion. He didn't even have to think twice about it, it was a no-brainer to him. Didn't make the loss of potential income an easy pill to swallow, though. Date nights were officially off the schedule, so were sleepovers and all the fun things that accompanied them. There had been a few heated moments between the two of you, but Frankie felt weird about having sex anywhere near his daughter and you refused to let him fuck you in the barn. Again. Especially after the last two times resulted in unfortunate splinter placement. 
Annie took less time to adjust than the two of you did, she really was an amazing little girl. She loved her little nook in the loft, although the décor was not to her taste and she wouldn't stop dropping hints about it until you took her to pick out new everything. Frankie had tried to put his foot down by explaining she wasn't going to get everything she wanted in life, but all it took were widening eyes and a protruding bottom lip before he was handing you the truck keys before you could blink.
Annie's attachment to you had surprised everybody, including her. The conversations you and Frankie had had before her arrival usually skirted around the conversation of what your role would be. You knew she was mourning her mother and were wary of trying to replace her, so you had fully expected to take a step back from Frankie's life while he and Annie built their new one together. You had her at apple farm, however, and now the two of you were best buds.
Well, until the six-going-on-sixteen attitude reared its ugly head and suddenly sweet, angelic Annie was replaced by a stubborn, moody, unwilling child who decided that screaming was the best response to negotiations.
For the first couple of months, Frankie had allowed it, not knowing what was normal acting-out behaviour for a kid who had experienced parental loss. He also had a hard time being strict, as he still felt like it wasn't his place; some weird kind of imposter syndrome. However, after Jacquie and Mark had been witness to one such episode, they had gently pulled Frankie aside and encouraged him to find a therapist for Annie and that structure and rules would be beneficial for her.
New routines were set, some of which you were involved in and others were special between Frankie and his daughter. Saturday was movie night, she was asleep by 7:30 so it was more of a movie evening, with popcorn, Twizzlers, and coke floats. You were invited to these, as Annie insisted on educating both adults on which Disney princess was best.
Frankie drove Annie to school every day, he knew he could easily send her on the bus but he needed that extra assurance that she had gotten to school safely. There had been an odd incident, which no other adults seem to have witnessed, where a man had apparently approached Annie and started asking her questions about her parents. 
This had, understandably, upset the girl, and the two of you, but the busy body's identity was never revealed. Frankie had been irate. Initially, he interrogated Annie, asking her for every little detail. Then the bus driver, parking lot attendant, teachers, and other kids were subject to his questioning. He went so far as to request all security video footage from around town, but nothing showed up. Neither of you suspected Annie of lying but it was like the man was a ghost. 
Eventually, it was chalked up to a parent wanting to get the scoop on your and Frankie's lives, as you'd been very private considering your first action as a couple was to practically dry hump on a carnival ride. After that incident causing Frankie's panic attack, and now creeping out a kid, you were a lot less inclined to appreciate the meddling from bored townsfolk even if it did bring the two of you together.
Frankie was always thinking up new ideas to build trust and create new memories for Annie, his guilt at missing out on her toddler years was exasperated by having her now. They created a memory book for her, so she could write down, colour, or paste anything that reminded her of her mom or her life in California. You were secretly building a memory book for the two of them, to show Annie when she was older how hard her dad had worked to become the man she needed him to be.
Twice a week Annie got to pick the recipe and they made dinner together. This usually resulted in a massive mess and only semi-edible food, but the smiles on their faces were worth it.
On Wednesdays, you picked her up and had a girl's afternoon getting something from the bakery and perusing books at the library, making up stories about the people walking by the café windows, or driving over to Jacquie's so Annie could play with her kids.
It was after one such outing when you were dropping Annie off at the farm, that Frankie came out to greet you with a guilty look on his face.
"I'm sorry," he began, rubbing the back of his neck and readjusting his baseball cap. "I didn't look at the caller display before picking up, and then once I was on the phone I got nervous."
"Frankie," you said lowly, dread filling your stomach. "What did you do?"
"I couldn't help it, I panic talked and I don't even know how much I blurted out! She's like Oprah or Barbara Walters! She just knows how to get people talking!"
"I know, Frankie," you ground out, trying not to lose your shit in front of a very interested little girl who has no filter during Sharing Time at school. "That's why we don't answer her calls!"
"But, babe, she's your mom. We can't keep ignoring her-"
"Apparently not!" You didn't realize how frustrated you were before it was too late. Your voice had gone shrill and loud and, judging by the look at Annie's face, angry. Taking a deep, calming breath in you tried smiling at the two of them without it making you look demented, "I need to call her and do some damage control, make sure she doesn't do something rash like-"
"Ahhh..." Frankie was back to looking guilty and you could have sworn your heart stopped. "She knows about Annie. Called herself Grandma. Said that Mother's Day would be extra special this year..?"
"FUuuuuuudge.." you barely managed to withhold the swear, looking at Frankie with a slightly panicked yet amused look on your face.
"It's okay," a little voice piped up, "I know that word. Mom said ‘Fuck’ all the time while we were stuck in traffic."
Part Fifteen - coming soon!
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TAGS: Let’s see if these bitches work...
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152 notes · View notes
yuyupowers · 3 years
Text
aristocrat!seonghwa
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aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader
genre: fluff
trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!
author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!
for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.
second son of a duke
i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition
unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect
perfect gentleman pt.1
excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting
well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance
(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)
a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist
good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions
definitely cares about his and his family’s image
naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him
(translates into excellent manners)
holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife
and surprise, surprise !!
this is where you come in
you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl
hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy
whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family
and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage
the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner
tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him
“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer
and he seemed like a decent person !!
a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner
all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression
though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met
even if you agreed
and didn’t she say that when she met woo?
anyways
after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet
whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,
you learned a great deal about seonghwa 
how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars
how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)
how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay
how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions
you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person
but you also noticed a few characteristics that-
you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,
it might bother you in the future
see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong
and while you weren’t as extreme,
(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)
you certainly agreed with him on certain points
like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect
but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image
okay, that was a lie.
you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image
(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)
but you thought it was,,,exhausting
it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean
to fake humility
to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”
to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways
it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth
even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”
with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-
yeah, it kinda frustrated you
not to mention how obedient he was?
of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him
and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!
no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family
especially considering their status
but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,
(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)
and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?
well,,,
nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months
and you didn’t feel like it was your place 
(at least not yet)
to point this out
so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings
that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)
okay, so-
one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden
chattering about this and that
a lovely time !!
it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening
so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden
big mistake
the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring
by this point seonghwa was a little panicked
he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task
(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)
and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!
!!!!
he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor
but he’s at a loss by what he sees
he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??
but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips
he likes your smile
and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so
because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain
up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady
polite, demure, charming-
in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing
you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners
whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place
but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was
seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-
he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor
just.
really confused
and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by
but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this
he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so
but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted
okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much
you could work with this.
and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing
some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t
some he was willing to try, some, less
like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)
or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)
or meeting hongjoong
(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)
and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.
and vice versa.
gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you
don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman
but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)
or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone
or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof
(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)
once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake
(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)
it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other
actually know each other
then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park
“,,,hey love?” (hwa)
“yes?”
“why are we doing this?” 
“what do you mean, dear?”
“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa
you don’t reply right away
instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves
after a few moments of silence
“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”
seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side
“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”
“but do you know what your convictions are?”
and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?
something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?
yeah,,,this is one of those moments
now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought
after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little
because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-
cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously
o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-
“will you help me figure it out?”
“,,,huh??”
“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked
and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa
one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth
it filled you with an unnameable feeling
like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort
shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own
“,,,of course.”
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
Text
It's been a long, exhausting day, and Hange is happy to finally come home. She shrugs her jacket off, throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the vicinity of the clothes rack, kicks off her shoes and stumbles inside the living room.
Something lies on a coffee table - she doesn't remember putting anything, more than that, she's pretty sure she tried to clean up the apartment the other day, so the presence of an object is exciting. Hange skips to it, greedily snatching it in her arms.
It's a book - The Hobbit, or There and Back Again. Hange read it, of course, many, many times during her high school and university years. She has a copy somewhere on a bookshelf too, but this is copy is so much nicer. It's not exactly new, but the book is leather bound, and as Hange opens it, she lets a sign of reverence - inside there are plenty of illustrations - beautiful, majestic drawings that seem to come alive right underneath her fingertips.
One picture in particular, the one with Gandalf and Bilbo makes her chuckle in delight. She closes the book and holds it close to her chest for a second, and then she travels into her bedroom to put it on a shelf, on the most prominent place, where it would attract attention of anyone who comes in.
"Thank you!" she yells into the open window.
She doesn't know if anyone listens - she really hopes no one does (she possesses some preservation skills, thank you very much, Moblit) - but it never hurts to be polite. Especially to the one who showers her with so much gorgeous gifts.
This - the mysterious apparitions of new things inside her home - started recently, two months ago. A mysterious gifter started breaking into her apartment and leaving various gifts throughout her home. Sometimes they're endearing - like that book she just received and that geranium that now stands on a windowsill. Sometimes they're useful - like that time, for example, when she forgot to buy something for her cat and almost started running to the closest store only to find a can of cat food that was so much more expensive (and probably much more delicious) than she could ever afford. And sometimes the gifts are straight up weird. One time she came home and found an extremely detailed replica of a human's scull. If that was, indeed, a replica.
Nababa then joked that she's been targeted by a serial killer.
A secret admirer, Mike had cooed right after, with a dreamy smile hidden by his moustache.
A stalker, Moblit had grimly concluded, watching Hange with unconcealed worry.
He didn't stop there, too, and out of the kindness of his heart, offered Hange to help her find the identity of the mysterious gifter (or stalker, as Moblit was adamant to call him).
Of course, Hange, fueled by her endless curiousity and even bigger desire to thank that very kind person, agreed instantly. That agreement led to both of them, couped up in her apartment, lying on a couch with more takeout food that they could possibly eat and a lengthy marathon of Lord of The Rings and Harry Potter.
They spent two days not moving from that extremely comfy couch. And the only person who came to her apartment was the delivery guy.
Moblit didn't stop so easily, though. Hange was actually impressed and proud of his determination. When she first met Moblit, he was such a sweet, soft-spoken boy who sometimes got too shy to order at McDonald's. But now he grew up in a resolute, strong man with a big, caring heart.
It's his determination and overprotectiveness that Hange blames for that afternoon when he decided to set up cameras all over her apartment.
They disappeared the very next day.
Moblit didn't wish to give up even then, threatened to watch her apartment from the other side of the street, staring at her window with the help of binoculars, but Hange managed to convince him that it really wasn't that necessary.
After all, the mysterious gifter never tried to harm her. And, well, she's not quite the romantic that Nifa is, and certainly not as romantic as Mike, but- she finds it all extremely endearing. Every time she comes home, no matter how shitty her day has been, and finds a new gift waiting for her, her heart swells and her lips curl in a smile so wide, her face might just break one day.
Of course, she wishes to know the face and name of her admirer (if that indeed who they are, and she is the one who is right, and not Moblit), but she also admits that not knowing... is pretty exciting too. It's so unusual, so romantic, she feels like she lives through a fairytale or a shitty love story.
And it gives her something to munch on, except boring work stuff. Sometimes she indulges in that a little too much, trying to decipher who from her tight circle of acquaintances can be her secret admirer.
Moblit's candidature is the first one to go. Giving his apparent and very loud aversion to the mysterious gifter, he, of course, might just be the very first suspect. But Moblit is the worst liar Hange has ever seen, so she rules him out without a second thought.
Erwin is a definite no as well, he's too busy to indulge in something like that. Besides, he's too straightforward, and even if he wanted something to happen (and wouldn't that be so much fun!), he most probably would have just said so, without resorting to make Hange feel like she's a love interest from those books Mike always reads during his lunch breaks.
Speaking of Mike, he and Nanaba are out of equation too, since Hange has already received an invitation to their wedding.
Hange thinks (hopes) that it's Pieck, a girl she's been hopelessly crushing on since forever, but even she is not so much out of touch with reality to believe that Pieck Finger herself has deigned to shower her with so much affection. The girl is a sweetheart, just not when it comes to Hange, for some reason.
Then there's a matter of Zeke Yeager, who probably, maybe, kind of has a crush on her. At least, that's what he says every time they stumble upon each other. But Hange is not naive enough (thank you very much again, Moblit) to think that his feelings are genuine. Even if they were, Zeke is too arrogant and self-affected to pay so much attention to someone who isn't him.
Of course, there is also Onyakopon. Sweet, funny and very handsome Onyakopon, another one of her assistants. Hange doesn't think it's him either. He's too orderly and straightlaced to endeavor a stunt like that.
There is another suspect, though, one Hange doesn't even fully believe is real.
There was... a guy Hange met in the back alley. It was Friday night, and, as tradition had it, she, Erwin and Mike were having fun at the bar, drinking beer and trading stories about their work days. Hange had walked out to get some fresh air, when she spotted him - a guy probably her age, trembling on his hands and knees with a pool of blood already forming beneath him. Hange - as one should (as one crazy person should, Moblit would have corrected) - hurried to him.
His eyes were unfocused and his face was covered in bruises. He flinched from her touch, almost violently so, reminding Hange of a scared, wounded animal.
She raised up her hands and swore that she only had good intentions.
After a second of just staring at her, the guy relaxed, staggering into her arms.
He didn't tell her his name, didn't explain what happened, only kept repeating "no hospital". So Hange dragged him upwards, swinged his arm over her shoulder and together they stumbled in the direction of her apartment.
Their journey was accompanied by the man's pained gasps and hisses and Moblit's voice inside her head that kept chanting "what the hell are you doing Hange, this man can be a criminal, he can be a thief or a murderer, or a part of the mafia, which means that he's both".
Hange ignored it just as she always did. Moblit was a wise man with a sound mind, but, even though, she was the first to admit and praise his thoughtfulness, Hange never listened to him. It made their relationship more interesting, it made them unique.
Once they tumbled through her front door, Hange almost losing hold of her precious and very hurt charge, she deposited him on her very comfy couch and, making sure that the man stayed put (he didn't need much convincing, could barely turn his head in the direction of her voice), she ran to get the first aid kit.
She hurried back to him and, after taking off his shirt, she learnt that the covered in blood stranger was also extremely ripped.
And, more importantly (Hange, focus!) covered in blood, so much blood, Hange nearly threw up. But beat up or not, she guessed that the stranger wouldn't enjoy it if he suddenly became covered not only in blood, but in her vomit as well. He didn't seem to be that kind of freak.
So Hange tore her eyes away from those abs and focused them on the bruises that bloomed on the left side of his stomach, at the edge of his hip and up on his collarbone. The wide cut that ran down his right side made her doubt her own abilities, she almost reached out for the phone, but then a strong hand curled around her wrist, forcing her to shift her eyes up to his face.
"No hospital," he repeated, his voice raspy like two stones shifting against each other. "Please," he added, when the doubt refused to leave her features.
Hange faltered for a moment more, before surrendering with a heavy sigh. "You brought this on yourself then," she muttered, as she set out to work.
Her hands trembled and her lips quivered every time the man under her gasped or took an overly sharp intake of breath.
He didn't speak though, didn't even curse at her, so Hange decided to take this task upon herself and fill the silence with her own voice.
At first, she talked about herself and work, but then, as she moved from cleaning his wounds to stitching them, her ramblings came in in earnest. She talked and talked, sharing every interesting fact she had ever heard or read.
The man didn't answer, but whenever she looked in his eyes, he looked right back.
His gaze, even basked in pain, set her heart aflame.
But then Hange finished, put a blanket over her patient, gave him her favorite pillow and went to her own bed, exhausted beyond words.
And when she woke up, there was no sign of him. Nothing in her apartment was even able to hint that another person had spent the night there.
Even her couch, which, as she clearly remembered, the guy had bled out on, was now spotless.
Well, not completely spotless. There was a wet stain as though... as though somebody had tried to clean it.
The revelation drove her to laughter.
She wasn't sure how that man could have not only walk out of her apartment without bleeding out to death, but also clean her damn couch, but she was fairly sure he was relatively alright.
She hoped so, at least.
Writing the night's incident as nothing more than, well, a weird accident, she proceeded with her day.
And a week later - the first gift came.
And, maybe, just maybe, it is a coincidence (Hange doesn't believe in such thing, though, she's a scientist, goddamn it), but a part of her hopes the gifts come from that man. She also hopes, perhaps, foolishly so, that she would see him again.
***
It's been extremely long, but surprisingly - because Mike has been nagging her with his wedding preparations and wondering who she would bring as a plus one - unproductive shift. Hange enters her apartment with a tired sigh, wondering if there is a gift at her coffee table that will make it all better.
After kicking off her shoes, the first thing she does is check the coffee table. There is no gift there.
Instead - there is a girl sitting on top of it.
Hange blinks, beyond confused, lifts her glasses and rubs at her eyes. The girl doesn't disappear.
Instead she turns to her, squealing loudly.
"You finally came! We've been waiting here all day!"
Hange numbly nods, and when her brain that works at a sluggish pace registers that the girl said "we", her arm starts reaching out to the baseball bat she keeps in her closet.
"She's pretty," the girl says to someone, turning her head to the side. "Although, doesn't look like an angel with eyes deep as an ocean."
"You forget that he was on painkillers when he said that," that someone scoffs. "And he also said that the eyes looked like ocean of shit, so, really, Levi isn't the best poet."
Levi? An angel? Ocean of shit?
What the hell are those people talking about? And, more importantly, what the hell are they doing inside her apartment?
Hange touches the handle of a bat, her fingers are curled around the hilt when the girl turns back to her.
"Hi!" she waves and the outstretches her hand, tugging at someone's sleeve. A guy comes into Hange's view - tall and lanky, with short light hair. He waves at her too and curls up his lips, although his smile isn't nearly as bright as his friend's.
"Hello," Hange answers slowly, heart hammering in her chest. So this is it? She really is going to die? She wonders if the bat can save her. There are two of them and they got inside her apartment without any sign of forced entry. They're clearly very skillful. And, possibly, more deadly that her bat could ever hope to become.
"What are you doing in my apartment?" she asks it tentatively, careful not to provoke them.
"We came to say hi!" the girl's smile grows even wider. She bobs her head from side to side, her pigtails swinging in the air. If the situation had been at least a little bit different, Hange would have found her endearing. Maybe, even offered her the candies she always keeps in the pocket of her jacket.
"We won't harm you," the guy says, rising his hands to prove that he's unarmed. "We just want to talk."
"And ask you for a favor!" the girl adds in a singing voice.
"A f-favor?" Hange shifts her gaze from one intruder to another, thinking if maybe she should call the police? She will, she decides. But after she hears what favor they need from her.
Your curiosity will be the end of you, Hange, Moblit's voice chides in her head.
"You know about the gifts, right?" the guy wonders.
Hange nods. "The one that always appear on a coffee table."
The duo frown.
"You didn't check the closet?" the girl asks.
"And under your bed?" the guy adds.
"Um..." Hange scratches her neck, feeling it warm up under their confused stares. "I'll go check there right now."
"No!" the girl surges forward, seizing her hand. Hange tenses immediately, thoughts "they're going to kill me, this is it, I'm going to die" racing through her.
But then nothing happens, and the girl even steps back when she notes Hange's discomfort.
"We just want you to meet someone," she says, and her sweet voice coupled with those adorable puppy eyed look make Hange resolve crumble.
Your kindness and immense trust in people would get you killed someday too, Moblit scolds her again.
"We just need to take some precautions, if you don't mind," the guy speaks up. Hange's throat closes up when he takes out a white handkerchief. "But you will be safe, I promise."
You're going to get kidnapped and then killed, Moblit continues to nag, and then I'm going to come to your funeral, stand over your grave and say I told you so.
Hange ignores the voice in her head the same way she usually ignores Moblit's warnings at work. She nods again, and then the guy comes behind her and takes off her glasses, wrapping the handkerchief around her eyes.
"You guys are into really kinky stuff?" she jokes as he starts pushing her forward.
The girl at her side snickers. The guy groans, muttering, "God, you'll make a great pair."
***
Thankfully, they take the handkerchief off before pushing her through the door of some old, battered up building. The floors are creaky and the windows are shattered in some places, but the building is clean.
Exceptionally clean, much better than her apartment.
The gears in her head start turning, as Hange remembers a stranger who scrubbed out a blood stain from her couch while probably still bleeding. The suspicions continue to grow when the guy - Farlan, he introduced himself on their way there - leads her to a room upstairs.
Inside stands a couch, nearly not as comfy as hers, and an old, grainy TV. On a floor next to it sits a guy. He wears a grey t-shirt, so his abs are not on display this time, but Hange recognises the stranger she saved right off the bat.
She wants to exclaim "you!" and point a very accusing finger at him, but he beats her to it.
"Isabel," he narrows his eyes, staring the girl down. She stares back, unflinching, her smile sweet like a candy. "Farlan," he turns to him, his gaze even darker.
"Saw her standing at our entrance," Farlan explains, overly flippant. "Says she wanted to meet ya."
"We'll leave you to it!" Isabel chirps, giving Hange's hand a quick squeeze and then turning around.
"R-right," Farlan starts moving too. "Izzy and I forgot to buy groceries. Have fun, Levi!"
The door after them closes with a loud bang, and suddenly Hange is alone with a guy who possibly (she didn't prove it yet) spent the last months breaking into her apartment and leaving gifts not only on a coffee table, but inside a closet and under the bed as well.
"So," she begins, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. Perhaps, the tension wouldn't be so unbearable if the guy - Levi - stopped staring at her so intently. "You've been giving me all these gifts?"
"Kinda," he admits, and breathing comes a little bit easier when he turns his gaze downwards.
Although, Hange notes with a sort of sobering bewilderment, his eyes are really, really nice, and she really wants to see more of them.
"You know that's really creepy?" she asks, delighting in the way his shoulders tense. "You made my friend worry."
"That idiot?" Levi lets a tch sound. "The one with the shitty cameras? Almost got caught by that fucker."
"So why did you go through all that trouble?"
"Just wanted to thank you," he mumbles. "For saving my life back then."
"Could have just said so," Hange advises. She takes a pause - a long one - to prepare him for her next words. Truth be told, she needs to prepare for it too. "You could have asked me out on a date too."
He looks up so quickly, Hange wants to laugh. She wants to, but she can't, because there is a lump in her throat that would only disappear after Levi gives her an answer.
He holds her gaze for a long, long time. Hange feels like she can't breathe, and she thinks Levi is doing that on purpose. Maybe, it's a payback for her earlier teasing.
"There is a waffle house around the corner," he jerks his thumb in the general direction. "It's not as nice as the one next to your house, but if you want-"
"I do," Hange cuts him off, and then laughs at his surprised expression. "I wanted to ever since I found you that night," she admits softly.
"When I was bleeding out on a street?" he asks incredulously. "You're a freak, four-year."
"Oh please," Hange rolls her eyes, playfully punching his arm. "You're the one to talk. Eyes as deep as the ocean of shit?" she quotes.
Levi's ears catch fire. "I told them to never bring that up," he mutters, his fists clenching.
"It's kinda cute, if I'm being honest," Hange confesses, grinning at Levi. "Not exactly flattering, but certainly creative."
"God," he groans again. "Are you always that insufferable?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"Good," Levi murmurs.
Hange's heart flutters and she reaches out for his hand, holding it in hers and intertwining their fingers. Levi - in a stark contrast to the their first meeting - lets her.
They start walking, still hand in hand, and Hange feels like the main character from the love stories Mike likes to read so much.
Levi looks up at her with a faint smile on his lips, and Hange feels like her grand romantic adventure has just began.
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Sea Salt: One
Summary: As a noblewoman from a small (and nefarious) kingdom in the Stepstones and quiet Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Elia Martell, she is accustomed to being looked through rather than looked at. The only exceptions to this rule are Prince Oberyn and Lord Willas Tyrell but they are often far from the dark shadows of the Red Keep or Dragonstone. She finds comfort in her quiet friendship with the princess and the delight of the darling royal children. But as Prince Rhaegar places a wreath of blue roses in the lap of Lady Lyanna Stark and rebellion starts to rage, she knows she will have to live up to her reputation. But luckily, she seems to have two allies lurking in the shadows.
Pairing(s): Eventual Willas Tyrell/F!Reader/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand
Word Count: 10.2k (these are all going to be monster chapters. I apologize)
Rating for this chapter: T for a bit of violence. but not much. my over-use of italics and my love for ASOIAF lore. If you have any questions or need clarifications, please just ask! I’m playing fast and loose with a bit of it, and a few ages, too. But I’m always happy to answer any questions you have!
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(banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites) 
Chapter One: The Salt of the Tears 
Or you can read on Ao3!
For all its supposed charms and storied history, Westeros had very few redeeming qualities. Most of the noblemen Y/N was forced to associate with during her time in the kingdom were filled with intolerable hubris and a lack of humor. They also liked to joke about her ‘little kingdom’ in the Stepstones as being inferior and nefarious—it would have been better if they could actually choose what they wanted to call her home. It seemed to be impossible to be both inferior and nefarious. And everything was so…bland this side of the Narrow Sea. She was used to Skilliga where people could trace their ancestries to Yi-Ti, the Summer Isles, the Bone Mountains, and beyond, all of them proud and varied. All of them fleeing the constrictions of their old lands and finding freedom in the islands and the homes they dug into the rock. They were proud to defend themselves in any way that was necessary and gained riches and notoriety with their famed corsairs. And, finally, the clothes were itchy and constricting and the food was largely unseasoned.
But there were a few bright spots in her time in the Seven Kingdoms. Mostly, it was Princess Elia Martell. Her nearest and dearest friend. Accepting the position had not truly been her decision anyway. She had been woken up by her uncle Hammond, the king of their little kingdom, nearly four years ago with him tossing a heavy scroll at her head.
“Tywin Lannister is offering to open up trade with Westeros again if you behave yourself at Court and marry some lord they choose. I’ve had your things packed. You leave at sunup.”
And Y/N knew that she was serving her kingdom by becoming a faceless peon for some pompous princess and then, perhaps, a broodmare for some strange man—but that did not mean she was going to be happy about it. In fact, she had been fully prepared to be the worst lady’s maid the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen…until Princess Elia.
Elia with her quick wit and soft smiles.
Elia with her musical laughter and unfailing loyalty.
Elia. The best friend she had never dreamed of ever gaining.
They would spend hours together in either her rooms or Elia’s chambers at Dragonstone, speaking of their lives before the Targaryens, laughing about the charades of courtly life, and dreaming about their futures.
“What type of queen will you be?” Y/N asked with a tease as they passed a jug of sweet grape juice between them. Rhaegar was out…somewhere, probably pondering some ancient prophecy that didn’t make any sense, and Y/N was happy to not have to pretend to care about anything that came out between his thin lips. “Quiet and mysterious?”
Elia laughed and shook her head. “I have had my fill of being quiet, I think. No. I do not want to be a quiet queen.”
“No? Then you may be the boisterous queen, always telling Tywin Lannister than his ideas are preposterous and he is not the true king of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Elia shushed her, fighting another bout of giggles and reached for the jug but knocked one of the numerous pillows from the bed, revealing a small blade atop the blankets. “Another one?” Elia asked with a huff. She handed the blade over with a frown. “Honestly, dear heart, you seem to think that everyone means you harm.”
Y/N took it and carefully hid it away in another place with a shrug of her shoulder. “I have met only three people who I would trust to not stab me through the heart when I’ve turned my back. It is better to be prepared than to be caught unaware.”
“Please tell me that you do not still keep half a dozen blades on your person when we go to court or the market.”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, good-”
“It is now a perfect dozen.”
Elia walloped her with a pillow, fighting another laugh. “You are a menace.”
“I am your most trusted confidante in this wretched city,” Y/N retorted, knocking the pillow away with a smirk. “You need better friends.”
Elia shook her head, still smiling. “You are enough trouble for several lifetimes, dear heart. You and Oberyn will be the cause of all my grey hair before Rhaenys reaches her fifth nameday, I am sure of it.”
Y/N smiled at the sound of the Dornish prince’s name. It had been too long since she had seen him. While he had been somewhat sent into exile after the suspicious death of Lord Yronwood, the youngest Martell had hopped across the Narrow Sea to become a sellsword for a moment after growing bored at the Citadel and visiting his sister at Dragonstone where he had met Y/N and she had somehow endeared herself to him. “He will be joining you for the tourney at Harrenhal, yes?”
The princess nodded. “It will be good to see him. I always hated knowing he was off in Essos.” Elia sighed before she glanced at Y/N. “And I’ve received word that Lord Willas will also be in attendance.”
“Do not.”
“Do not what?” Elia repeated, leaning closer to her friend with a conspiratorial smile. “I simply mentioned his name.”
“You know exactly what you are doing!” Y/N growled, knowing it would only mean Elia had won—as she always did.
Willas was the firstborn of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, and Lady Alerie Hightower. He’d been an only child for most of his life, his mother having trouble carrying to term several times before little Garlan was born over a decade later. And Y/N was very fond of Willas, just as he seemed fond of her. He was happy to make her laugh when he was at court, seeking her out when he should have been speaking with Rhaegar and gaining the crown prince’s favor for The Reach (not that it was necessary) or attending some vapid luncheon with other noblemen.
“He is a good man. And you deserve a good man.” Elia patted her shoulder, soft smile on her face.
“He is the heir to Highgarden-”
“Mama?” A quiet voice at the door had them turning to see little Rhaenys, rubbing her teary eyes. Her kitten, little Balerion, was sitting dutifully at his princess’ feet and quickly kept pace on his little legs when she walked into the room.
“Come here, sunshine,” Elia said, opening her arms toward her daughter and carefully scooping her up onto the bed. She gently pushed Rhaenys’ hair away from her damp cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Tell me what is wrong, my love.”
“Another nightmare?” Y/N asked. Balerion meowed until she bent down and helped him onto the bed where he quickly curled into a ball in the princesses’ laps.
Rhaenys nodded, a few more tears trailing down her cheeks. “It was scary, mama. A big dog came in and…” she hiccupped and Y/N felt her chest squeeze at the little girl’s pain.
Elia hummed and patiently waited for Rhaenys to finish telling her what she had seen in her dream. While the massive dog her mind had conjured scared her, it was the manticore that crawled from beneath her father’s bed that truly frightened her. Its vicious tail going straight for her throat over and over again until she woke up with little Balerion pawing at her nightgown, trying to stop her cries. “It is just a dream, sunshine. You are safe here. I will not let anything hurt you.”
Rhaenys sniffled and nodded but continued to hold her mother tight. “I know, mama. You and Lady Y/N will protect me.”
Y/N reached out and curled the lone strand of silver hair that Rhaenys had around her finger. “Of course we will, princess. Our world needs its Sunshine.”
The little princess finally turned her head out of her mother’s chest and smiled at Y/N, tears still gathering at the sides of her eyes. “I’m your sunshine, too?”
“You are,” Y/N said with a smile, gently tugging at silver strand before letting it curl back around her ear. “You are my sunshine, your mother’s sunshine, your grandmother’s sunshine, uncle Oberyn-”
“And father?” Rhaenys asked. “Am I his sunshine, too?”
“Of course,” Elia said and then kissed Rhaenys’ hair again. “Your father loves you very much.”
The three spoke in hushed tones for a little longer—just long enough for the little princess to fall asleep in her mother’s arms. Elia was careful as she slid off Y/N’s featherbed and kept her daughter in her grasp.
“I suppose it is time for us all to retire.”
Y/N nodded and offered to help put Rhaenys back to bed but was waved off by Elia, as she knew she would be. Elia was always fond of the little, quiet moments she stole with her daughter. Away from the pretenses of courtly life and the expectations of her husband’s father. This was Elia at her brightest, her strongest. When it was just her and her sunshine.
Y/N often wondered if she’d ever have moments like that—moments of soft reprieve from the trials of courtly life, either here in Westeros or back home in Skilliga, near the Stepstones in the Narrow Sea. She also wondered if Rhaegar would ever pull his head out of his ass and realize that Elia was his wife and not some thoughtless vase he could ignore and only pick up out of necessity. She wondered what the future held. For everyone.
But, whatever it did, she hoped it treated Elia well. It was what the princess deserved.
**
Y/N gently rubbed Elia’s back with a frown. It was the third time this morning that they had to have the wheelhouse stop so the princess could empty her rolling stomach. She quickly handed Elia a bit of juice and a damp cloth as she stood tall again with a wince.
“It was like this with Rhaenys,” Elia murmured, a hand cradling her stomach. The maester had confirmed she was with child again, the day before they set off toward Harrenhal for this stupid tourney. "You remember, don't you?"
Y/N did. And she worried then, too. But the Maester had also found that this would be Elia’s last pregnancy. Her body would not be able to handle another. And Rhaegar had only nodded once before turning and excusing himself from Elia’s chambers to play his stupid harp, looking out his chamber windows with a familiar (and consistently grating) pensive look on his face.
“The dragon must have three heads,” was all Y/N heard him say when she was eavesdropping on the conversation the husband and wife shared later that night. He was obsessed with some sort of prophecy. It was as if he didn’t care that his wife was of fragile health and pregnant with his child.
Y/N hated him.
Hated the stupid, silver-haired prince.
“We can stop for the day,” Y/N said. “It is not as if the tourney will be held up by your absence. You need your rest.”
Elia shook her head and told the wheelhouse driver to continue on and the large caravan started to move again. “The sooner we arrive, the sooner I can rest. You know I do not sleep well on the road.”
Rhaenys, the little sun, had slept through most of the travel, curled up on the velvet pillows on the other side of the wheelhouse, barely aware of any goings-on aside from when they stopped for the night or meals. And that was the way Elia preferred it, sheltering her daughter from courtly life and its trappings.
Elia reached out and patted her hand with a small smile. “It is worth it, dear heart.” She leaned back and shut her eyes for a moment. “I know when I hold this babe in my arms, all of this will seem like a distant memory. All of it…all of this is worth it.”
Y/N was not convinced. But she nodded anyway. “Tell me, do you think Ser Arthur will beat Rhaegar this time?”
Elia laughed.
**
The tourney was the largest the Seven Kingdoms had seen in generations. Ten days filled with jousting, melees, archery, axe-throwing, and horse racing. And feasting. Every night ended with a feast in Harrenhal’s great room, filled with piles of food and jugs of expensive wine and ale.
It was exhausting. And much too far from a substantial body of water for her to feel truly comfortable. She needed the sea, the water. Thankfully, Rhaenys also found the tourney lacking and was happy to accompany Y/N to the edge of the lake known as the God’s Eye and they enjoyed the chilled water and allowed the hungry fish to nibble at their ankles.
Y/N had grown up watching horse races, bet on boat races around the islands of Skilliga, and even participated in a few events herself. This tourney was…boring. Excessively so. Elia, more than once, had to nudge her to keep her from dozing in their box. Thankfully, the company was good.
Arthur Dayne was a kind man, a fine knight, a member of the fabled Kingsguard and Sword of the Morning. Y/N was sure they would sing songs of his deeds long after his soul had left. And he had the honor of knowing he was the crown prince’s dearest friend. (Y/N did not think this was an honor but did not voice that to the kind knight and tried not to hold it against him.)
But Y/N saw how his eyes softened whenever Elia would appear. His easy smile was near-permanent whenever she would whisper into his ear with some joke or story. He was in love. A soft, gentle love with a bedrock foundation. It was so different than the lukewarm platitudes Rhaegar dealt her within the confines of their marriage.
Maybe in a different life, Elia and Arthur could have lived a happy life in Dorne together. Far away from the Mad King’s machinations and paranoid delusions and Rhaegar’s apathy. But now, in this life, Arthur had to be content to simply stand at her back in their royal box when he was not participating in the tourney—right now he was readying for his turn in the melee and Elia had wished him luck before he departed.
Ser Lewyn, Elia’s uncle and knight of the Kingsguard, was another knight assigned to their box and they knew they could speak freely in his presence. He was a man of quick wit and fiercely protective of his niece and her baby. He was one of the few people who knew of Elia’s second pregnancy and was quick to have a servant fetch her something to eat or drink if needed. “And you are as lovely, as always, Lady Y/N,” Lewyn would say with a wink. He was such a flirt—but it was always in good humor. She knew him to have a lover in King’s Landing to whom he was devoted.
For the moment, Elia and Y/N were alone in their box, unguarded. She knew that anyone would be foolish to try anything but it still set her on edge when she noticed the fabric at the back start to sway with someone coming up. Her hand slowly slipped toward one of the small blades she kept in her boot but then she recognized the man slipping into the box. It was Oberyn—three days late and smirking. He winked at Y/N and pressed a finger to his lips before he snuck up on Elia and roared with laughter when she nearly leapt from her seat when his hands clapped over her shoulders. “You brute!” She yelled as she smacked his arm. “I have told you a thousand times to cease your sneaking!” But she laughed on the last word, betraying her happiness to see her younger brother.
Oberyn was just as dashing as he had always been, just as confident. And just as unattainable. He was more than a handful of years older than her and as much as his reputation preceded him, was very picky on whom he lathed attention.
She was too young for him. He has said so himself not a year ago at their last meeting when Y/N had all but thrown herself at him, too into her cups to stop herself.
“You have so much life ahead of you. I would not dare think I was worthy of usurping your time when you have the world at your feet.”
It was a gentle rejection, but a rejection all the same. He was a good man, leagues far and away from the men who would jump at a chance to bed a young highborn girl or take her to wife. But that did not mean her heart did not clench every time he smiled at her or whispered a joke in her ear at the expense of the tourney knights or an unrepentant letch of a lord who caught his eye between jousts. He told them of his adventures with the Second Sons and how he founded his own sellsword company, too, after he grew tired of the politics within the Sons’ hierarchy while Elia and Y/N told him of the ‘excitement’ of the tourney and the actual excitement of the appearance and disappearance of the Knight of the Laughing Tree just the day past. King Aerys, raging and paranoid, had even sent Rhaegar to find the mystery knight and unmask him but the dragon prince came up emptyhanded.
“And I see little Lord Willas is here,” Oberyn said, dipping his head just so to indicate the box opposite them, across the jousting grounds. Willas was sitting at his father’s side, the shining wood of his cane visible even from a distance as it leaned against the seat beside him.
It was only Y/N’s third day in the kingdom when she attended the tourney when the accident happened. She knew Willas to be too young to truly be participating, he was only a few years older than Y/N, but Lord Mace Tyrell had pushed him. When Oberyn met him on the field, it was an accident. A tragic accident. Willas’ leg was crushed beneath his horse and Oberyn had been mortified, sending the Dornish healers he’d brought with him to the tourney to care for the young lord.
But the damage had been done.
Willa’s leg was in constant need of a brace and he walked with a cane. The Tyrells blamed Oberyn for crippling their heir. Well, most of them did. Willas bore no ill-will toward Oberyn and was often seeking him out when they were both present. “I am not sure if it is to spite his father or to truly try to mend the divisions between Dorne and The Reach all on his own.”
“I believe he seeks out your attentions because he enjoys you as much I do, my prince. Willas is not the sort to have ulterior motives when it comes to his companions or friends. If he did, I assume he would tolerate our dear Rhaegar’s presence a bit more,” Y/N mused as she half-heartedly clapped for the nameless, faceless victor of that round. She had stopped paying attention ages ago.
Oberyn huffed at that and turned to look at Willas and he caught the lord’s eye.
Willas raised his hand in greeting, a soft smile on his face—until Mace grabbed his wrist and all but shoved his son’s hand back down.
Y/N did not stop the laugh that bubbled out of her throat, even as Elia nudged her.
“He does blush such a pretty pink,” Oberyn mused, earning himself a nudge from Elia, too. “Do you think he will finally ask you to dance tonight, little shark?” He winked with the well-worn nickname, stemming from her house’s sigil of a large, white shark.
Y/N quickly turned in her seat to stare at Elia who looked away, a sly smile on her face. “Please tell me you did not speak to your brother about Willas.”
“I have no idea what you are insinuating, dear heart.”
“Willas is a good man, little shark. But you will have to contend with his family if you finally allow him to court you.” Oberyn patted her knee. “You will need every bit of your Skilligan strength to stop yourself from killing them.”
“Hush, Oberyn. They are not all terrible.”
“You, dear sister, are the soon-to-be Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. It would be improper to think of you as anything other than the Realm’s Sun.” Oberyn smiled as Elia rolled her eyes. “I am the man who crippled their heir.”
“Willas does not believe it was your fault. We just need for Mace Tyrell to die and Dorne and The Reach will once again be fair weather allies. Olenna and Alerie are much more agreeable.”
“I could help,” Lewyn said as he stepped back into the box, carrying a sleeping Rhaenys. The two had slipped away from the festivities when the little princess complained of a headache and her great-uncle had been happy to shepherd her away for some rest in the shade and a bit of juice. Elia easily took her daughter into her arms and let her continue to sleep against her chest.
“A kind offer, uncle. But Oberyn is simply continuing to be the most dramatic of Martells.”
Lewyn reached forward and bopped his nephew on the head with a smirk. “I know.”
**
The day gave way to night and they were once again shuffled off to the Great Hall of Harrenhal for the night’s feast and dancing. Ashara Dayne, Arthur’s sister and another companion to Elia, joined them at their table, looking a little flustered as her pretty purple eyes kept jumping toward a table near the door where a small grouping of Northmen were seated.
“Which one has caught your eye?” Y/N whispered to her, trying to figure out which solemn-faced man captured her attention. Ashara was a romantic, always singing love songs to Rhaenys before her afternoon naps. She was kind-hearted and sweet, if not a little shy. Y/N enjoyed her company and how she cared for Elia. That was all that truly mattered anyway.
“The quiet one,” Ashara murmured.
“They are all quiet,” Elia said in return, also trying to figure out which one Ashara was speaking about. “Except for that she-wolf. She seems fond of making noise. I heard she thoroughly beat a handful of men for attacking that little Crannogman.”
“And then the Knight of the Laughing Tree beat them again at the joust,” Y/N muttered, thinking aloud. “Curious.” She turned to Elia. “Tell me, was the she-wolf in her box when that knight took his turns at the joust?”
Elia looked at her with a frown. “What are you implying, dear heart?”
“I do not know,” Y/N said with a shrug but then her eyes narrowed on one of the Starks at the table and poked Ashara. “That one? With the dour expression?”
“He is not dour.” It was nearly a pout. “He is just…quiet.”
Elia hummed and nodded. “Hm. Yes. The Quiet Wolf. I believe his name is Eddard. His brothers call him Ned. Is that right?”
Ashara’s cheeks bloomed with color and she looked away. “Yes, his name is Ned.”
Elia and Y/N teased their friend a little longer before the night’s festivities started and the people splintered off for dancing or singing or drinking contests—Robert Baratheon was the current champion of that impromptu tourney. Elia wanted to listen to music and had Y/N and Ashara move with her to one of the smaller chambers where they could hear someone plucking at a harp’s strings.
What they saw when they arrived was not entirely welcome.
Rhaegar was sitting on a bench, his familiar harp across his lap, and the she-wolf beside him with tears in her eyes as he sang a sad song they had all heard hundreds of times. (It was not as if he could write songs himself.) The young girl was clearly besotted with the prince.
“Princess,” Ashara murmured, turning toward Elia, trying to shield her from the sight. “I do believe Arthur is in the next room over. You promised him a dance, did you not?”
Y/N watched Elia straighten her shoulders and press a practiced smile to her face. “Yes, I believe I did. I could definitely benefit from a bit of revelry anyway.”
And one dance turned into two and then three as Arthur coaxed smiles from Elia that had Y/N releasing a breath she did not know she was holding.
She could kill Rhaegar, should kill him. She didn’t care if she was sent to the Black Cells for the rest of her life or if her head wound up on a spike—if it meant Elia was free. Free to love her babies without reproach for not looking Valyrian. Free to love whom she pleased (probably Arthur). Free to laugh and smile and dance. Free.
That was all Y/N wanted for her friend.
She watched the quiet wolf’s brother, Brandon she thought his name was, approach Ashara and point out Eddard who seemed to be trying to hide behind his tankard of ale with a vibrant blush on his cheeks. Ashara quickly made sure that Y/N was fine on her own before letting the elder Stark wave his brother over and they slowly, adorably started to dance. She watched from for a while and then spotted Elia now dancing with Lewyn with a sleepy Rhaenys balanced on her hip, too.
A quiet, rhythmic tapping of wood against stone caught her attention over the din of the music and she turned to see Willas stepping to stand at her side, a small smile on his face. “My lady,” he said with a tip of his head.
“My lord,” she replied with a smile of her own and a small curtsey. “It is good to see you again. Dragonstone and King’s Landing are far less agreeable since you were called back to Highgarden.”
Willas smiled, tucking his chin a bit. “I would prefer to be at your side, even if it is in that snake pit.” Y/N patted the seat beside her but he shook his head and held out a hand toward her. She didn’t comment on how his fingers shook. “I cannot dance, not truly, anyway. But I would be honored if you allowed me the honor of spending the next song with you.”
The smile that crept across her face could not be stopped and she quickly placed her hand in his and stood as the last beats of the song started. They took their position toward the edge of the floor, trying to keep to themselves as the next song started. And it was true, they could not truly dance. His leg could not accommodate the stomps and hard turns the song called for—but it was okay, because she had not taken the time to memorize the steps anyway. Instead, they swayed in time with the beat, taking an occasional turn to step to the side, ignoring how some onlookers clicked their tongues or whispered behind their hands about how ridiculous they might look.
“Tell me, how is Highgarden?”
“It is just as lovely as I have said before. My father is insisting on building a new aviary for my next nameday.”
“I assume this is because you mentioned once that you wanted to take up hawking? Hm?” She asked with another grin.
“He wants, so desperately, for me to be some sort of great man. Fit for song and legend. I think I will only continue to disappoint him.”
Y/N stopped her uneven swaying and simply squeezed his hands. “You are not a disappointment, Willas. You are the most intelligent man I have met and you are a capable man—capable of ruling HIghgharden in a way worthy of song. You do not need to be a warrior for that. I do believe that the world needs more smart, kind men. Like you.”
Willas sighed and shook his head. “You are too kind, my lady. But I do doubt that my father will be convinced of your reasoning.”
“Well, perhaps it is better that you are your grandmother’s favorite instead of your father’s. Your mind can and should be your greatest asset, Willas. It is one of the things I admire most about you.”
He finally looked up at her, another shy smile on his lips. “You admire me?”
“Of course. How could I not?”
His pale cheeks flooded with color and he nearly stumbled on the next step but quickly righted himself but stopped moving, holding her hands just a bit tighter. “My lady, I… Y/N…I was hoping if you would give me the honor of-”
Y/N nearly fell as someone collided with her back and Willas’s cane slapped to the floor in a clatter, gaining too much attention for Willas to continue.
Y/N turned to see some Northern lord—Roose Bolton, if she remembered correctly—sneering at her and Willas.
“Careful, my lady.” His voice was low and deep and might have been soothing to listen to if his pallid and angular face did not betray the complete lack of soul beneath his skin. She had only one other interaction with him and it had been on the tourney fields just before the first joust and he had been sneering with a few of his bannermen about how the Dornish knights must be tiny men with how small their horses seemed. (Of course, the Dornish Sand Steeds were smaller, but they were also faster and more durable than the horses these Northern lords were so fond of and could outlast them for days. Y/N had laughed heartily when Roose had been unseated by a Dornish knight not yet past his five-and-ten nameday.)
Willas huffed as Roose walked away and shook his head. “I will never understand that man. But if he was half as handsome as he was clever, the Realm would be in peril. I do not trust him.”
“I cannot say I enjoy his presence either.” She brushed away her discomfort and turned back to Willas, trying to press a smile onto her lips. “But what were you saying?”
Willas opened his mouth and was quickly interrupted again by Ashara, who did look apologetic to her credit, tugging at her sleeve. “Princess Elia requires our presence, my lady.”
She turned back to see Willas sigh before he nodded once. Before Y/N could excuse herself, he grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I will find you again, my lady. Please enjoy the rest of your night.”
Y/N squeezed his hand before letting it drop back down to her side. She wished him well with her heart a little heavier in her chest, and let Ashara lead her back toward Elia who was standing with Lewyn and Oberyn and clutching a sleeping Rhaenys to her chest. But that was not what bothered her. No. It was the tears in Elia’s eyes and how Oberyn seemed ready to run his sword through anyone who looked at him incorrectly. “What is it? What has happened?”
Oberyn turned to her, teeth bared in a snarl. “The Mad King has once again let his thoughts be known that Rhaenys is too Dornish for his tastes.”
“She woke from a nightmare and I took her to her mother,” Lewyn explained. His large hand was pressing against Rhaenys’ back and Elia’s hands, a warm grounding force. “His Grace was nearby and little Rhaenys waved at him—she knows him as her grandfather.”
“Of course she does. Rhaenys’ heart is much too big.”
“And he turned his lip up at her and called her a…” Elia sniffled and held her daughter tighter. “A burnt leaf on the Targaryen tree. He said the only reason he knew she was his son’s daughter was the bit of silver hair she had.”
“How cruel!” Y/N exclaimed before turning to Lewyn. “Tell me no one heard him. Tell me that king of yours did not say this in front of anyone but you.”
And Lewyn’s answering silence was heartbreaking. He only continued to hold Elia and Rhaenys a little closer, a shallow consolation.
“The room was filled with people. Even the prince was there—he said nothing to stop his father’s tirade. Against his own daughter!” Oberyn was raging.
“Did Rhaenys know what he was saying?”
Elia shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “No. She only thinks the best in people, my little sunshine. She was happy to be called a leaf.”
Y/N sighed and stepped forward to wipe the tear from her friend’s cheek and press a kiss to the sleeping child’s head. “The old man’s time is coming. I promise you that.”
“Y/N!” Ashara hissed. “You cannot say such things.”
“I will say such things when he says such things. Damn my uncle’s trade agreement. Damn it all. I will kill a king. I will do it.”
“No, no, dear heart. I cannot ask that of you—nor you, Oberyn,” Elia said, watery eyes cutting toward her brother. “I need you both at my side to handle whatever comes next.”
**
What came next, however, was Rhaegar winning the jousting tourney, with Elia’s favor hanging on the handle of his lance. There was a stupid tradition of the victor crowning a woman the ‘Queen of Love and Beauty’ and giving them a crown of blue roses. Y/N expected for Rhaegar to place the small bunch of flowers on Elia’s lap and be done with it.
But no.
The silver-haired prat rode right by his wife and laid the wreath in the lap of the she-wolf, Lyanna Stark.
All the smiles died.
Elia grasped Y/N’s wrist as she moved to stand, keeping her seated. “Your anger is appreciated. But I would not have more eyes on me for my husband’s indiscretions.”
It did nothing to quell the rage she felt burning in her throat. But she could be quiet. “I have Sweetsleep in my bag.”
“Y/N,” Elia snorted and shook her head. “No.”
“You’re right. Tears of Lys would be a better suit for his crimes against you.”
Elia finally uncurled her fingers only to tangle them with her friend’s as she managed a small smile. “You make me smile. Even when my heart is full of sorrow.”
Y/N’s kissed her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You deserve to smile, Princess. I will gladly play the fool if it makes you happy.”
Elia nodded and patted her hand. “I know, dear heart. I know it very well. But I…” the words died on her tongue as she turned to look around the box and found it lacking… “Oberyn.”
But Oberyn was already gone.
“Find him,” Elia whispered in a rush. “Before he does something rash. Stop him.”
Y/N instantly shot to her feet and darted out of the box in search of the Dornish prince. Luckily, it did not take long for her to find him, he was only a few paces away with his spear in hand.
She reached out and grabbed Oberyn’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “You cannot, my prince.”
“He has dishonored my sister in front of the entire kingdom. You cannot think to stop me from taking vengeance.”
“Elia said no. Would you hurt her further? You would be caught and executed and she and little Rhaenys would be as well. You know the Mad King’s wrath knows no bounds.”
Oberyn’s shoulders slumped but his teeth remained bared. “You are both too kind.”
“I offered to put Tears of Lys in his wine. I am not kind. But I would not make Elia suffer more than she already has.” She paused and watched Oberyn nod, appeased—for now. “Come, let us try to make our princess smile, hm?” Oberyn was breathing hard and Y/N pressed her hands against his chest, trying to help him breathe a little easier. “Calm—for now, at least, my prince. Breathe with me.”
He nodded and pulled in a few deep breaths through his nose and his grip on his spear loosened just a fraction. Oberyn leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Despite what you think of yourself, you are gentle hearted, little shark.”
“I know I am the worst sort of woman to have at your sister’s side, apparently. Always ready to murder if it would make her smile. Hardly well-mannered, too.”
“On the contrary, little shark. You are the best friend I could ever hope for her to have.”
**
The road back to Dragonstone was quiet, thankfully. Rhaegar had ridden ahead of their wheelhouse, not looking at his wife for longer than a few moments and kissed Rhaenys on her head before he set off.
It was for the best, probably. Y/N was not sure she could have stopped herself from murdering him if the opportunity presented itself—and it was always so easy for ‘bandits’ to attack a travelling party.
Oberyn was only able to accompany them so far before he had to divert his path—he had been called back to the sellsword he founded to deal with a contract dispute.
“I do not have to go,” Y/N heard him whisper to Elia the night before he left. “I can stay with you, Rhaenys, the baby. I can stay at your side.”
“I will be fine, Oberyn. I can handle this.”
“I know you can. But I don’t want you to do it on your own.”
“I’m not on my own.”
The wheelhouse hit a bump and Y/N made sure the sleeping princess on her lap didn’t jostle too much. It seemed that Rhaenys could sleep through almost anything. Even if her dreams were becoming increasingly erratic. The last night of the tourney, just a handful of hours after her father crowned a woman who was not her mother, Rhaenys had woken up in tears, babbling about dragons and fire and clouds of snow that never stopped. Elia had hummed her old lullaby until her daughter fell asleep again and it broke Y/N’s heart.
The two women she loved most in the world were hurting and there was nothing she could do about it.
“You’re good with her,” Elia said, a hand over her stomach. “And she adores you.”
Y/N smiled and curled her finger around the errant strand of silver again. “I adore her. I can only hope that if I ever have children, they are half as well behaved as her. She is wonderful, Elia. Your little sunshine.”
Elia smiled and drummed her fingers against her stomach. “I can only hope that this one is less troublesome as they come into the world.”
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
“I know, dear heart.”
And Y/N silently said a prayer to her gods—and then said another to the Seven that Elia was fond of, too—hoping for the best. Wishing for good health for Elia and her babe.
But her prayers were not answered.
Elia’s sickness continued and lingered as her pregnancy progressed and then King Aerys demanded Elia give birth within the ‘safe haven’ of the Red Keep in King’s Landing. He did not care that travel was not advisable in her condition. He did not care that Rhaenys was not sleeping well lately.
The Mad King cared for nothing and no one aside from himself. It was glaringly apparent.
It was just another reason for Y/N to hate these stupid Seven Kingdoms. She missed Skilliga. She missed how she could hear the ocean from every room in her family’s home, a massive, sprawling fortress carved into the steep rock face of the fractured islands—just like every other castle and fortress in their kingdom. She missed how clean the air was in her kingdom—smelling sea salt and fog. King’s Landing smelled of piss and moldy bread. Dragonstone was not home, not really, but it was far better than the city—and she feared far less for her friend there than she did at the capitol.
But she kept her mouth shut and held Elia’s hand as little Aegon came screaming into the world with a few strands of silver hair already crowning his head. But Elia was even more delicate after the birth, frequently needing to rest and seeking the guiding hand of healers who supplied her with calming teas and cooling balms. Y/N felt the exhaustion and relief rolling off her friend in waves as Aerys proudly presented his grandson to court, proclaiming him the heir to the stupid pointy chair. All of this made no sense to Y/N. Rhaenys was born first—did it truly matter that she was a girl? Women were set to inherit just as much as men in Skilliga—it simply mattered who was born first.
Oberyn had proudly told her that it was the same custom in Dorne—but the other six kingdoms in Westeros did not follow those rules.
And while the court celebrated the birth of another heir, Rhaegar took it upon himself to remind his wife that, “the dragon must have three heads,” before he kissed Elia’s brow and set off toward the vast library—again.
Arthur, however, hovered between dutifully following his prince and friend and staying at Elia’s side. The rigidity in her posture let those who knew her best know she was close to tears even though her smile had not moved from her face as she watched Queen Rhaella happily parade her grandson around the throne room, letting her ladies maids ooh-and-ahh over the new prince.
“Go, Arthur,” Elia eventually murmured. “I know he needs you.”
The famed knight’s shoulders dropped just a fraction before he bowed the slightest bit, excusing himself and walked away.
But Y/N was not done, feeling something bubbling her gut as she watched him near the door and she slipped away and pulled him to a stop.
“My lady?” Arthur said, eyebrows scrunched together as he looked at her hand on his arm.
“Ser Arthur, if you love her, as I know you do, protect her. Do right by her, by her beautiful children. Try to make Rhaegar see reason. See that his wife is good and gentle and all he needs.”
Arthur, proud, sweet Arthur, nearly crumpled at that and he nodded—just once—before turning and walking away.
“What did you say to him?”
Y/N turned at the sound of the small voice to see Prince Viserys looking up at her with hard, lilac-colored eyes. It must have been a miracle for him to escape the ever-present Septa and guard at his side—Aerys and Rhaella seemed to be hellbent on protecting their second son from some unseen threat. “I told him to make sure your brother stays out of trouble, princeling.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“And I don’t think that matters. Your mother will be looking for you.”
His thin lips pulled into an even thinner line but he nodded and walked away.
Apparently the Targaryen family was filled with presumptuous little pigeons. Truly, the only ones Y/N truly liked were Rhaenys (who was more of a Martell anyway) and Rhaella (whom she rarely saw as she was constantly nursing healing bruises and cuts from her husband’s ‘attentions’.) And she was sure Aegon would take after his mother too, making him another one of the few the Seven Kingdoms did not deserve. But Y/N pushed that thought out of her mind as she discovered Elia, still cradling Aegon, weeping in her chambers that night. A bit of parchment was set beside her on her undone featherbed and Y/N hurriedly tried to stop her tears, to know why her dearest friend was crying, but Elia only pointed a finger at the parchment and silently told Y/N to read it.
The seal of a snarling wolf was stamped on it with a wax seal and she could already feel herself growing angry.
The missive was short. But it said enough. It was from the she-wolf, Lyanna Stark. She was responding to the raven Rhaegar must have sent earlier—stating that she would meet him in the Riverlands in just a few moons’ time and that she was excited to be at his side, and away from her oaf of a betrothed, Robert Baratheon.
Y/N crumpled the note and threw it into the roaring hearth.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Elia sniffled and shook her head. “You cannot. I will not have my babies grow up without a father.”
“And I cannot have him shame you so. You deserve more than this pompous little lizard can give you—crown prince or not.”
Aegon fussed in his mother’s arms but quieted as Elia pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Rhaegar told me that he must have three. The prophecy he’s been obsessed with since he was a boy demands it, he believes. Something about the prince who was promised.” Aegon’s little hand reached up toward his mother and Elia caught it, letting his fingers wrap around her as she kissed his thumb with a watery smile. “The wolf girl—she will sate Rhaegar’s need for a third baby.”
“This prophecy he believes in is madness,” she hissed. “I will not allow him to treat you like this-”
“It is done, dear heart. He has made his decision.”
“Have you made yours?”
“What choice do I have?” Elia asked with a mirthless laugh. “He is the crown prince and I am-”
“A princess of Dorne. Mother of his two children.”
Elia waved her hand and looked down at her son. “All I want in this world is for my children to be happy.” She sighed, shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. “It is not the wolf girl’s fault. Rhaegar can be very persuasive. I hold no ill will toward her.”
“And toward Rhaegar?”
Elia’s beautiful eyes cut to her before falling down to her lap. She did not answer.
“The offer still stands for me to kill him, you know.”
“I know, dear heart. And I thank you for it. But I need you by my side. I know the times ahead will be turbulent. The Realm has not had a king with more than one queen since Maegor the Cruel.”
“He means to marry her?” Y/N hissed. The anger she felt bubbling grew hotter as Elia nodded and wiped at her cheeks.
“We shall both be his queens, I suppose.” Elia paused and sniffled once more. “I could love the child she bears Rhaegar as my own.”
And that took the wind from Y/N’s sails in an instant. Plans for a slow murder evaporate and she crossed the room to sit at Elia’s side, her hands coming up to rest on her friend’s shoulders, mindful of the babe in her arms. “Your heart was always too big,” Y/N said. “And I shall be at your side until the end of my days.”
**
Dragonstone was a welcome reprieve from King’s Landing. She could truly smell the sea again, leeching a bit of the tension from her shoulders. It was even more of a respite when Rhaegar left (again). He had been playing his stupid harp and looking even more melancholy than usual before he kissed Rhaenys and Aegon on their little heads and bit Elia farewell.
Y/N knew what he was setting off to do—the little She-Wolf waited for him.
And she also knew that Arthur had finally confessed his repressed feelings for Elia and had gently kissed her under rising sun before he was called away by an unsuspecting and unknowing Rhaegar who waited for his trusted friend at the gates of the castle. She had spied it from her chamber window and had not told Elia what she had witnessed, only noting that she was fond of smiling that day. The smiles continued as Elia received ravens from Oberyn and Willas, filled with words of congratulations for her new babe and well wishes for her and her growing family. “And Oberyn wants you to know that you are not allowed to be Aegon’s favorite as you are Rhaenys’—he has deemed it selfish and he will challenge you to a duel if it seems that Aegon prefers your company to his when he visits next.” Elia laughed and showed her the slip of parchment with Oberyn’s flourishing handwriting.
“And Willas wishes for me to give you his best, and hopes that you remember your dance at the tourney as fondly as he does.” Y/N tried to pull the parchment from Elia’s fingers but it was jerked away at the last moment as Elia laughed. “Oh no, dear heart. I am going to keep this to read when you have babies of your own our dear little Willas!”
But the smiles would not last.
It started as whispers than grew to a scream. Lyanna Stark had disappeared with Rhaegar Targaryen. Was she kidnapped? Had she gone willingly? Elia had tried to dissuade the Stormlands from taking up arms against the crown, led by a ‘hurt’ Robert Baratheon, but Y/N surmised that the ravens the princess had sent had gone unheeded. The Baratheons wanted blood and they would have it.
And that meant that the paranoia of the Mad King was now proving prophetic.
Aerys had killed two Starks and wanted the heads of the others who were leading the Northern infantry toward the Trident. He wanted Jon Arryn to send him the head of his former ward, Robert Baratheon as a show of loyalty.
Arryn refused.
War raged.
Aerys called Elia back to the capitol.
“He is only doing this to make sure Dorne stays loyal,” Elia whispered to Y/N as they lay together in Elia’s bed as a storm raged outside. “But House Martell keeps its promises—there is no need for threats. No need to keep me and my babies as hostages.”
Tears slipped down Elia’s cheeks and Y/N gently wiped them away. “I will protect you, Elia. I promise you that.”
**
The sail of the ship was emblazoned with the sigil of House Redwyne—Willas’ grandmother’s house. The stupid burgundy grapes on blue cloth had never been a more beautiful or welcome sight.
Willas.
Her dear, sweet Willas had heeded her call. And now it was time for Y/N keep her loved ones safe. She had a sleeping Rhaenys (and tiny Balerion) in her arms and Elia had a fussing Aegon in hers as they slipped from Elia’s rooms and took the servants’ stairs down to the courtyard and toward the seldom-used docks on the north side of the fortress as thunder rolled overhead with a coming storm. The stone steps had weathered away and the wooden ladder down to the dock had been washed away ages ago. Y/N had to hand Rhaenys to her mother for a moment before she jumped down to the dock and took the sleeping girl back into her arms.
The Redwyne ship was nearly there. Their sails had been pulled down, letting them look like unmarked and unnoticeable trade ships.
“Princess Elia?” A voice boomed in the dark.
Elia looked back toward the castle and then down at Aegon, her grip tightening. Rhaenys stirred in Y/N’s arms and opened her eyes, little brow furrowing at the commotion around her. Y/N carefully set her down on the dock, holding her hand tightly before turning back to Elia.
“You can make it, Elia. Just jump. I will catch you!”
Another shout of her name had Elia looking backward.
“Elia!” She hissed. “We must go!” It would only be a matter of time before someone discovered the three bodies Y/N had dropped to clear the way for the little family. They never saw her or her hidden blades coming in the dark.
But Elia was frozen and the shouts of her name grew louder. Slowly, so slowly, Elia’s head turned and with a flash of lightning, Y/N saw what she was looking at: a fleet of ships blazoned with the three-headed Targaryen sigil headed toward the eastern dock.
They had come.
Elia turned, still clutching Aegon to her chest. She kissed him once more before pressing him down into Y/N’s arms. “Go. Go now before they catch you. Protect my babies.”
“We can make it! Elia, please-”
“Mama!” Rhaenys cried. “Mama!”
“Go, my sunshine. Remember, I will always love you.”
Y/N looked out to see the ships were docked and a small army had come to take Elia and her children away to King’s Landing.
“Princess Elia, you have been commanded by King Aerys to present yourself and your children in court immediately.”
She had to go.
Her choice had been made.
**
The Redwyne sailors were accommodating to the two crying babes and frazzled, foreign woman on their decks as they sailed toward Skilliga. They made sure they were settled in the captain’s quarters and left them with a bit of water and berries before mentioning that, “Lord Willas hopes you will write to him when we arrive at Skilliga.”
The captain had the good grace to look a bit ashamed before excusing himself.
“Where’s Mama?” Rhaenys asked as she snuggled down into the well-worn blankets of the small bed.
“She is…visiting your grandfather.” The words were bitter on her tongue and she pulled the blankets a little higher to Rhaenys’ chin and kissed her hair. “Get some sleep, sunshine.”
“What about Aegon?” Rhaenys asked, eyes fighting to close.
“I will make sure he gets some sleep, too.”
Content with that answer, Rhaenys nodded and finally let her eyes fully close. And after checking on the little prince, tucked away in a bassinet made of a half barrel and a mound of blankets—a far cry from the golden crib he had at Dragonstone, she let herself cry.
**
Rhaenys was fond of how her voice echoed in the halls of her temporary home. She would laugh and sing and talk and just listen to it echo as little Balerion circled between her feet. And that gave Y/N a small bit of joy, to know that Rhaenys was still able to smile—even if she asked for her mother every time she work and every time she was tucked into bed. Even if the little princess still screamed with terrible dreams filled with fire and ice almost every night.
Aegon was a happy baby, content to be in Y/N’s arms and babble at the dolphins and sharks he could see from the fortress’ windows.
It was good to be home. Truly, it was. The sound of the sea and the scent of its salt were a balm to her fraying nerves but it was lacking something now—lacking Elia.
Every night, Y/N would pray to each and every god and goddess she could think of to keep Elia safe. To let her come back to her babies. To live the life she wanted to when this rebellion was over.
Every night.
But, again, her prayers were unanswered.
Hammond slipped into her room before the sun rose nearly a year since their escape from Dragonstone and gently woke her by rubbing at her shoulder, like he had done thousands of times before. He had been her father, her only parent, since her parents died of a simple sickness when she was twelve. And now, it seemed, it fell to him to be that parent again.
“I have to tell you something, Y/N. I am so sorry.”
The words rang in her head, echoing over and over again as he continued to tell her what had happened in Westeros. News had reached their little kingdom that Aerys was dead. Rhaegar had been beaten and killed at the Trident. Robert was King. And Elia had been murdered.
“A-are you certain?” She asked, the words strangling the breath from her lungs. “Surely it cannot be-”
“They said the Lannister men presented her body to Robert, rolled in a red curtain.”
A sob wrenched its way out of her throat as she crumpled back into her blankets. Gone. She was gone.
Her uncle let her cry for a moment, sitting on the edge of her bed like a stalwart guard until she caught her breath.
“But there is some strange news, too. It seems the Lannister men thought they needed to prove the Targaryens were dead. Two little bodies were presented to the Usurper too. They claimed they were little Rhaenys and Aegon.”
“What? What? I-”
“Only you, it seems, knew that Elia had come to the capitol alone. They must’ve killed a poor kitchen maid’s children, thinking they were the prince and princess.” His roughened hand gently wiped at her cheeks. “I sent you to that wretched kingdom in hopes that we could strengthen our alliance, grow our fortunes. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”
And Y/N could only cry.
**
It was only a handful of moons later that a servant came into Y/N’s rooms and announced that a strange man had demanded Y/N meet him on the small island off the shore of her family’s fortress, the only island outsiders could land on safely.
Y/N knew it was stupid to go. Knew it was stupid to kiss Rhaenys and Aegon on the crowns of their head as a nurse Y/N had hired watched them. Knew it was stupid to take the small boat she had carved when she was only eight out to the island by herself. But she did it anyway. She needed it.
On the little island, a small patch of tall, green grass surrounded by soft sand and sharp rock, stood a man she thought had died.
Arthur was standing there, his white KIngsguard cloak long gone and the armor missing as he held a small bundle in his grasp. And he was bleeding. Bleeding bleeding bleeding. But he trudged forward and pressed the small bundle into her arms and then he nearly collapsed to his knees at her feet.
“It is finished.”
She looked down at the bundle and gasped. A baby—there was another baby.
“What? Arthur? What is this? Who?”
“Rhaegar wanted to name him Vaemond. But Lady Lyanna…she kept calling the babe Jon before she even brought him into this wretched world.”
This was Lyanna’s baby. The baby Elia said she would love as her own. And so now, she must, too. Y/N huffed and the babe in her arms squirmed, full lips pulled into a pout. “Then Jon he will be.” Rhaegar had done enough damage to his children. “Where is Lyanna?”
“Dead. The childbed took her.” The words were punched out of him and his unfocused eyes looked at the babe in her arms. “You’ll care for him, won’t you? He’s innocent in all of this.”
“So was Elia. So are Rhaenys and Aegon.”
“So it is true then?” The hopeful gleam in his eye made her chest lurch. “You have her children? They’re safe? I thought it was just rumor that Elia had been alone when she arrived in King’s Landing. I thought she would never leave her babies…”
“She only left them to keep them safe. And, for now, they are safe.”
Arthur was quiet as Y/N looked down at the baby in her arms. Jon’s pudgy little arms reached out toward her and she adjusted her hold to let him wrap his hand around one of her fingers. And she was lost. He was a precious little one. Another babe for her to care for.
Arthur suddenly fell to his knees and Y/N hurried to try to keep him upright while still keeping little Jon comfortable. But Arthur pushed her hands away, leaving blood on her skin from where he had touched her so briefly. “Will she forgive me? When I see her…will she forgive me for helping her husband in this stupid fight for prophecy?” His purple eyes filled with tears and they slipped down his dirty cheeks.
Y/N did not need to ask who he was asking about. She knew. “Elia forgave you the moment it happened.”
Arthur nodded and hung his head. He was finished. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Rest, Arthur. You have earned it.” She placed her hand against his head, the closest she could be to him in the moment and, in the next few breaths, he was gone. His body slumped to the soft grass.
Y/N sighed and held Jon a little closer. Another one…another person she had considered a friend had been taken and she was alone again. And, she promised herself then. This would be the last time she cried. This would be the last time she lost someone.
This would be the last time.
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AND ANOTHER BANNER BY MY BABY MARS @thesadvampire​
A/N: Please let me know what you think. This is a bit of a slower burn so I hope you guys don’t lose interest. :) thanks for reading!
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