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jamespotterismydaddy · 9 months

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Lord Husband (Chapter 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for all the love for chapter 1. I really wasn't expecting everyone to like it so much!

word count: 1,334 words

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You break your fast with the Queen every morning, but today, you are hesitant to go. For the past few days she has been trying to convince you to set up another meeting with Lord Stark. You show no interest in such an arrangement but you know it is no use avoiding your mother.

You have your handmaiden help you dress for the day in an eye-catching, sapphire gown. It’s low-cut but not in a way that wouldn’t be considered respectable. You may set many trends in fashion with being the only daughter of the Queen but you are still a princess after all. You have your hair done up elaborately and forgo donning your neck with jewels because you enjoy making the courtiers stare. You like tempting the men who will never be your suitors the most. Making your way to your mother’s solar, your gaze falls on a serving boy for perhaps a moment too long. He blushes. You think that you may call on him specially to serve your tea tonight; just because you won’t marry him, doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy him. Ser Erryk holds the door open for you when you get to the Queen’s chambers but an issue arises when you notice her guest.

“Lord Stark.” You attempt to put a smile on your face when you notice your betrothed dining with your mother. It comes out more like a grimace.

“Oh darling, I thought you would much rather break your fast with your betrothed today.” Rhaenyra smiles sweetly but you can see the pointed look in her gaze. She knows how desperately you’ve been trying to avoid Cregan Stark. “I’ll have my meal with the Dowager Queen.”

“Of course, mother. Thank you for the kind gesture.” You say through gritted teeth.

She exits the room, leaving you with only Cregan and a cupbearer. You stand, unmoving, near the door. He stands where he had risen from his chair in light of your presence. He awkwardly waits for you to take your seat so he may also be seated again. You make no signs of moving.

“Perhaps you would like to grant your feet a moment's rest, princess?” He gestures to the chair next to him.

You glare at him. “I do not need to be prompted by you in order to seat myself.” You decide to settle down in the chair across from him instead of the one he invited you to.

“Of course.” Lord Stark tries his best to not roll his eyes at you. “I was pleased when her Grace requested another meeting be set up between the two of us.”

“Were you?” You look at him, amused. You can’t imagine that the man still wishes to court you after your first encounter.

“I am pleased to have any chance to spend more time with my betrothed. Especially when she is as fair as you are, princess.” He says, turning up the charm all the way. “Might I also say that your dress looks absolutely ravishing on you.”

“I know it does. That’s why I selected it.” You say with a roll of your pretty doe eyes.

“A wise selection it was.” Cregan comments, somehow managing to stay courteous.

You fill your plate, taking your pick from the vast variety of fruits and you grab a single lemon tart at the end.

“Do you enjoy lemon tarts?” He says, attempting to keep the conversation flowing.

“No.” You say sarcastically before taking a bite.

“I take it that you still don’t care for conversation?” He speaks, his tone betraying him by revealing a hint of his annoyance.

“Not with any of the men that vied for my hand.” You answer shortly.

“I did not vie for your hand. The Queen gave it to me.” He seems almost offended by your words. You’re sure that a man like him has never had to compete for a woman before.

“Oh good. I’m glad to know that I am not a prize to be won but a gift to be given. What relief that brings me.” He cringes at your words.

“I did not say that and you know it isn’t what I meant.” He says firmly, his patience starting to grow thin.

“I’m sure it isn’t.” You say passively. As if the conversation isn’t worth your time.

“Princess, please help me understand why you seem to despise me so.” Your betrothed is clearly spiteful from the fact that he has been saddled with a woman that has next to no interest in him.

“I don’t despise you, Lord Stark.”

“Then tell me why you act as if marrying me is the worst fate the gods could have bestowed upon you.”

“I value my freedom, my lord.” You say simply.

“I do not intend to keep you prisoner.” He says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

He doesn’t understand. They never understand that being kept prisoner doesn’t always mean being held in a cell. Being free isn’t defined by your arms lacking physical shackles.

“I can see that this betrothal is not what you want but unity between the Starks and the Targaryens is what the realm needs.” He adds.

“I know what is good for the realm. My mother is Queen.” You say defensively.

He pauses for a moment and takes a bite of the pastry on his plate, washing it down with a sip of Arbour Red wine. He is clearly thinking about his words, wondering what to say that would upset you the least. “Of course, princess. So you evidently agree that your mother’s wishes, as Queen, must be followed?” You’re not really sure where he is going with this, if he has a point or is just trying to figure something out for his own benefit.

“Do you think I would be sitting here if that wasn’t the case?” you say condescendingly.

Another pause from your betrothed. It seems that Lord Stark is considering his options. He then gives you a tight smile. “My house is very honour bound. You will have your freedom through Winterfell and I will never hurt a hair on your head, nor let anyone else bring harm to you. You may bring as many of your ladies in waiting as you would like and I will not bother you often if you don’t wish for it.” He lays it out straight for you, the benefits of having him as a husband. At this point, all he wants is for you to not be so bitter towards him.

You stare at him for a moment. You do seem to be a little enticed by the amount of control he is inclined to grant you. You consider being agreeable by simply giving him a nod of your head but that anger still tugs at the back of your mind. The fact that you will be wed to this man with or without your approval makes you sick. “I don’t require your protection. I have a dragon.” He sighs and looks almost disappointed.

“I offer you more than protection.” He says, firm in his beliefs that he would make a fine husband to you.

“Clearly because I get to bring my Ladies in waiting with me to the North. Hurrah.” You say with a straight face. “What shall you offer for me and me alone? Something that isn’t just for the progression of the realm?” You ask inquisitively.

“Well… I would like to make you happy.” He says carefully and you hope he doesn’t catch how you let your face soften for just a moment.

You have no idea how to respond to that. The sentiment seems so intrinsic and shallow and yet… you don’t believe that you’ve heard the words fall from a single suitor's mouth until him.

“Oh.” The filler word falls stupidly from your mouth. The conversation does not continue on from there. You just pick up your lemon tart and eat with him in silence

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

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#lord husband #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark fic #hotd #hotd fic #rhaenyra targaryen #cregan x you

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yeeterthek33per · 8 months

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Bittersweet Days (Charlie Grant x Reader)

A/n Requested

Warnings: a little bit of smut at the end. I've marked the section with a star so y'all can skip it if you so wish but marked the kind of end, so y'all could read the last bitty bit, so warning, teeny mention of nudity in the last of it.

Your chest is heaving as you grab one of the blue bottles from the drinks crate, squirting a stream of water into your mouth.

The subs along the line handing the current lineup their bottles during the injury check.

"I swear to fucking god, they're firing on all cylinders tonight, Asllani is on my ass like she's glued to it. I can't focus and I can't mark her either."

The game hadn't been going well. Sweden suddenly picked up the pace like they had fire lit under their asses and Sam was now down with a leg tweak after a challenge from Eriksson.

It didn't help the referee didn't do shit about it for a whole minute. Even Eriksson and Mušović were going the ref about her taking so long to call it.

Charlie hands you a sweat towel and takes the bottle from your hands when you offer it.

"Don't let her get in your head. She's just trying to pick apart the midfield. She's already gotten into it with Mini. Don't bite the bait. Stand your ground, but don't bother trying to chase her around. She's not the one you need to keep an eye on."

"Rolfö is being the biggest pain in the ass to mark. There's no way our backline can keep up with her. Hunty is the only one who can even block her from that side. Ellie's getting drawn out way too quickly, and I have to back track, and it's leaving Asllani open. It's like we're panicking."

You shake your head. What a way to celebrate your anniversary.

Charlie takes the towel from your hands as well and moves to hold your shoulders so you can sit still for a moment, ever eager to get back out on the pitch.

"Babe, you know how to keep the midfield locked, talk to Ellie, she needs you to keep her in line. If she goes, Clare covers, not you. You have to cover the top of the box, you know this." You nod, grabbing the bottle to take one last drink and Tony signals you over.

"Talk to Mini in that midfield. She can cover Asllani, but not while she's playing the way she is. She's getting pushy, and Mini is biting easier by the minute. I might have to pull Sam here, so I'm looking at Chids to replace her. She'll cover where you and Mini can't. Look for the lines, follow your lines, L/n, you got this." He claps you on the back, and you give him a tight nod.

As Sam gets walked off and you all return to the pitch, there's a higher tension in the air than before. Everything just stops functioning. It's like nobody listened, and Sweden is just blocking everything that gets sent in. Sam isn't coping, and she can't meet any headers despite insisting to Tony to let her go back on.

Alex is subbed on for Polky, but she isn't given the time or ability to get much done. Why would he push her there? Their backline won't allow for her style of play there.

In the end, it's just frustrating, and the exhaustion is setting in faster than every other match. Steph is trying to keep the backline in form, but running a full marathon at the World Cup isn't doing her legs any good either.

In the end, the moment the whistle blows at the end of the game. You all just collapse to the pitch. You'd all pushed for effort after effort, but nothing broke through. In the end, the Swedes emerge victorious.

Everything kind of just crumbles down. Sam collapses to the pitch, Steph is already on the ground by the technical lines where Tony is, who's still arguing with the ref. Lord knows why.

The man's patience when it came to terrible reffing ran about as deep as the hole you wanted to dig yourself into.

Everything hurt. Your heart, your head, your lungs, your legs. It all felt like a slap that your grandkids would feel. Like it made your father turn over in his grave.

You felt the pats on the back from some of your teammates and some from Sweden as well.

You push yourself up, legs shaky and muscles screaming at you. You go find Sam, giving her shoulder a quick pat as you kneel in front of her.

"Hey, c'mon cap, that's gotta be hurting your ass. Up we come." You pull her up and wrap your arms around her, and she just grunts and just about leans fully into you.

You walk her over to the bench, arm around her shoulder, and give her a few back pats and a shoulder squeeze, mumbling words of consolation to her.

She doesn't say much, and you leave her with a small kiss to the temple.

Charlie is the first to approach you, having spotted your hunched form and slow limping steps. You can tell she's holding back a lot more than she feels comfortable with. The tears peeking out of the corners of her eyes, and the red of her face make it obvious to you.

"Hey baby, I'm so proud of you."

You bury your nose into her neck the moment she has you wrapped up in her arms. Her hand sits at the back of your neck, squeezing at it slightly, and her other rubs circles into your shoulder blades.

You lean into her slightly, feeling your legs wanting to give out on you, and she quickly moves her arms around your waist to hold you.

You whimper, feeling your knee start to twinge more now that you aren't running on adrenaline. You'd done it in about six months ago, but the pain never fully went away, even after months of physio.

You just stubbornly chose to ignore it after not being able to play and worrying it would cost you your career.

"I know it hurts, sweetheart. It's just a little bit longer, and then we can go back and just stay in for as long as we like."

Charlie only knew because she caught you spraying the crap out of it one day with deepheat after a particularly bad training session, and the cold was starting to set in on it.

"Sorry, I know this isn't exactly the present you wanted for our fourth anniversary." You say half jokingly, and she just gives you a watery laugh, shaking her head.

"Honey, I got my present a month ago when we stepped onto the pitch together before the game in Sydney. That's all I've ever wanted."

Tears only pour harder. "We were so close, though. I could've played harder, I could've done something about that damned midfielder."

"She was just so much more physical than either of you or Mini were prepared for. There's nothing you could've done without injuring yourself or the other player."

"Me losing out on my knee would have been worth it if we had made history."

Her hands grab your face at that, bringing you to look her in the eye.

"No, it's not because we already did that. Because you already helped do that. You putting yourself out permanently should never happen for a piece of metal that will get covered in beer and put on a hook to get dusty inside a display cabinet. You are worth so much more than that. Don't ever put yourself or your career down for that."

"But-"

"No. You've worked so hard to get here. You put your knee on the line just to make the team. It's time to rest. It's okay to need a break. It's okay to say you've done everything you could. It's okay that you couldn’t force yourself to do the impossible. You gave everything, and that's what matters. Sometimes, stuff happens, and you end up outclassed."

You huff a sigh, sniffling lightly. Then slowly nod.

"Okay, okay, I see your point."

She caresses your face.

"Good. I love you."

You give what you can of a smile.

"I love you too."

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

Upon return to the hotel, you're all invited for an afterparty and taking the opportunity to let off some steam, you all accept.

You half collapse on the bed in your room while waiting for the bathroom to empty so you can shower properly.

A thought comes to mind. Why hadn't you planned anything more for today?

Charlie woke you up with flowers and delivered (pre approved) breakfast. She snuck you extra coffee in the morning every day. She made sure you had your gear back clean and organised and folded while dealing with everything she needed to do as a player.

She'd made sure you both had the night together last night.

Hell, she made you laugh in one of the most heartbreaking settings a player can go through at a World Cup even though she barely got minutes on the field herself.

What had you done?

Given her a heart attack when you went down and played one game together, that and a terrible apology earlier after the game.

After chatting with Mini, Kyra, and Harper, though try as she might, little Harper wasn't as much help as the other two, you set up a roof top date, rented out one of the top suites in the hotel for the night and promised Tony more media duty for the next month than the whole team combined in exchange for the night off.

So that's where you decide you have to do something.

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

You arranged a little food delivery, snuck out to drop by a few stores, and bought some last-minute flower arrangements and a few packets of rose petals.

You also stopped by a jewellery store to pick up a necklace you knew she'd been looking at while you were out on the team morning walk.

Now, you just had to convince Charlie to stay in with you without it being suspicious.

With it being about thirty minutes before the team was set to leave, you knock on the door to the room Charlie shared with Kyra, ignoring your muscles screaming at you after you'd told Charlie you'd still go with her to the afterparty.

She looked like she didn't quite believe you, and questioned your pain level but you insisted you were fine and that you were happy to go out, knowing she needed to have something to do other than the usual team stuff.

Kyra opens the door, but the moment she spots you, and you give her a nod, she turns back to Charlie. "Hey Cha Cha, your girl's here."

Charlie looks up, a smile gracing her lips but mild confusion joining it.

"I thought we were meeting down at the bus."

You shake your head, immediately having to go over the plan in your head again.

Everything was making you nervous at this point, but you had to fight for your life to not let any nervous tics show. Lord knows your girlfriend would spot them in a heartbeat.

"Actually, change of plans. I convinced Tony to let us skip and found a really nice place for us to go for dinner. I know we haven't had too much time together lately, aside from last night, which I wanted to thank you for."

Charlie's expression softens, and she hops up to come over to you, immediately pulling you in for a tight hug.

"Baby, you don't have to thank me for anything, I'm more than glad for any time we spend together. Saying that, I will take you up on that offer."

You grin and let your lips meet hers for a moment. Of course, you hear a gagging noise from Kyra.

"You two are so sweet, it's actually fucking gross."

Charlie rolls her eyes and turns back to you, arms still around you.

"Come back in about twenty and we can go?"

"Fifteen, I have to show you something first."

"Baby, c'mon, you know my makeup takes forever, twenty, please?"

She bats her eyelashes at you, and you roll your eyes lovingly and peck her lips.

"Fine, twenty."

"Whipped."

"Shut the fuck up, Kyra."

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

"Okay, when you said you were showing me something, I didn't think you meant breaking onto the roof. Why are we coming up this way anyway? You're gonna get us both in trouble."

You seemingly don't hear her protests as you both walk down the hallway to the roof access.

"Seriously, I love you, but now is not the time to fulfil your 'sex under the stars' fantasy."

You roll your eyes and open the door, and start to ascend the steps. She's looking around nervously at the security cameras and nearly stops behind you.

"Y/n, seriously, you're gonna get us into shit with the hotel. We can't be up here. I love you, but why are you bringing me into this again?"

You stop suddenly and turn, grabbing her by the face and kiss her.

"Because you love me, and you follow me anywhere."

She groans, knowing full well she can't argue with you. As much as she vehemently denies it and gets teased for it, she'd follow you off a cliff or into outer space if she had to choose.

You continue up the steps, and when you reach the door to the roof, you step aside and gesture for her to go through first.

"Ladies first."

She huffs at you and moves around you to open the door.

"You're such a little shit, honestly."

Hand to your chest, you gasp softly.

"You wound me." It's said with a teasing smile.

The moment she opens the door, she freezes, tears coming to her eyes.

The roof is set out with an outdoor garden and a pergola with vines wrapping the wood. However, a white clothed table sat directly in the middle, a longer one off to the side with shared dishes that you both love and miss having now that you're away at the World Cup.

The ground and the tables are sprinkled with rose petals, and there's various vases of flowers around.

She realizes now why you'd been so insistent, and when she turns back to you, she can see only pure love and admiration radiating back at her.

The suit you were wearing was perfectly fitted, and it seems the moment she looked away, you'd clipped a small rose to your pocket.

Charlie has to tilt her head back slightly to avoid letting the tears ruin her makeup.

"Happy Anniversary, my love."

Her hand comes up to cover her mouth as she looks back at you, fighting off tears.

"Baby, did you really do all this?"

You give her a shy smile, running your hand through your hair.

"It was last minute, but lately, you've been doing so much for me, and for us as a couple, I had to do something. I love you and appreciate you so much, and I won't ever feel like I'm doing enough for what you deserve. I'd give you the world if I could."

She laughs and grabs you by the hands to pull you closer.

"God, I love you so much. You're doing so much more than you'll ever know. Happy anniversary. Thank you for doing this for us."

You smile widely and cup her cheek, giving her a quick kiss and gesture to the table.

"Hungry?"

She looks over at the food on the table set out for you and nods quickly.

"You got me my favourite comfort foods. Hell yes, I'm hungry."

You chuckle, and you both dish up from the transportable warmers.

You settle down to eat, chatting about the day and looking back on some fond memories from your early days.

"I can't believe I let you sign me up for a whole go-karting season. As fun as that was, you drive really weirdly dangerous compared to how you drive a regular car."

"Do not, I'm just free spirited when I'm in a mini race car, that's all."

"Baby, you intentionally sent someone off the track because they nudged me trying to go around me."

"That was a fair response. Thank you very much. He was an asshole and he was pretty much fine after anyway"

"The poor guy ended up with a broken arm."

You go silent for a second, and Charlie has an amused look on her face.

"But.. he tried to take you out, it was only fair." You pout.

"Yeah, but baby, you got us banned from that go-karting place for life. I'm 90 percent sure they blacklisted you, too."

"Look, I'm just saying Rich asshole wants to lay wheels on my girl. He ain't walking away without a few scars, okay? Plus, it's better than that time you got us kicked from Paintballing."

"They should've kept their dicks in their pants."

"Clearly, they had to, considering you shot all of them in the crotch."

"Their problem for not wearing the supplied crotch guards."

"Yes, and the instructor was clearly impressed with that effort."

"I did try to tell him they wouldn't stop flirting with you, so they needed a reality check. Plus, I did just say it wasn't intentionally aimed that way while we were fighting."

"They were your teammates. We were on opposite sides of the course."

Charlie pouts and moves around her food slightly.

"Still didn't stop them from trying to get your number at the end of it. I saw you giving something to them by the way."

You raise your hands slightly in mock surrender.

"I may or may not have given them the number to that radio station that broadcasts all the creepy voicemails and texts they get from guys who purposefully get given the wrong number."

Her eyes crinkle with laughter as tries to cover the sound, the melodious noise making your heart warm. You could listen to it all day, every day.

"Oh god, please tell me you've got the broadcast somewhere."

"Maybe. It requires payment for viewing though."

Charlie raises a brow at you. "Yeah?"

You tilt your head playfully. "Yeah, sorry baby, only acceptable payments are kisses."

She hums, nodding.

"Remind me later and I'll take you up on that offer."

"Aw, no fun." You pout softly.

"Baby, we're enjoying the night to ourselves. We have plenty of time for kissing."

"Speaking of, Tony knows we're not gonna be in our rooms tonight."

She tilts her head slightly.

"I may have booked us a room for the night separately."

Her heart absolutely melts at your words, and she wordlessly grabs your hand over the table.

You wiggle your eyebrows. "Wait 'til you see the room."

She giggles softly, shaking her head.

"God, I love you."

Your eyes water, heart beating faster.

"I love you too."

Should this be it? The moment you finally used that damn box that's been tucked under three layers of old socks and giving you a world of anxiety?

Not yet.

The velvet lined case was like lead in your pocket though, and if you didn't do it soon, she'd probably get sick of waiting and do it for you.

You knew she knew you were waiting to propose. She was only waiting for you to do it.

You hold it back and suck back tears before she sees them. You continue eating, and her laughter fills the air as you do everything you can to keep her laughing throughout the night.

Later on, under the caressing melody coming from a speaker you had set out beneath the table, you and Charlie sway together. The moonlight filtering through the vines of the pergola leaves a soft dappled glow across your skin and surrounds.

Your heart flutters as her hands trace the contours of your shoulders before moving back to settle on your neck.

A tender smile tugs at your lips, warmth spreading through you as you feel her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of it.

You can feel the squeeze of your fingers on her waist beneath them, holding her like you never want to let go. Your shared breath intermingles in the space between you, a bridge between your shared love making your heart race.

You take the moment to just ruminate. Your heart replays the moments that have brought you here.

The shared completion of your dreams, the laughter, the moments of disappointment, and the hard times you got stuck in that you had to work out how to navigate.

In all of it, one thing remained consistent.

Charlie.

Your rock. Your love. Your confidant. The person who stood by you at your worst and raised you up at your best. The woman you were so sure couldn't possibly return your feelings just four years ago.

And yet here you were, stood embraced under the moonlit glow of the night, just hours after a fourth place finish at the World Cup.

And yet here you were, holding the love of your life in your hands, her holding you like you'll slip away at a moments notice. That's when you know you're gonna marry this woman.

This beautiful, light, courageous, caring, kind human being was yours.

Her fingers in your hair send shivers down your spine and her lips murmuring sweet nothings to you course through your gut like your blood flows through your veins.

You live in the moment for as long you can before you can tell exhaustion is starting to set in a little between the both of you.

"Come on, love. I can tell you're tiring a bit there. Wanna head in for the night?"

Her lips meet yours softly in a brief but reassuring kiss. "I'm not done with you yet."

Your lips move to her neck with light ghostings across her skin.

"We've got time, baby, all night if you want."

Her sigh and slight head tilt urge you on.

"Lead the way then."

---------------------- **

Under the soft sheets of the bed, you lay propped up on your side, elbow holding your head above the blonde girl beside you, fingers gently tracing her stomach as the breathlessness relaxes into calm once again.

Charlie moves to turn onto her side to face you properly.

"Please tell we didn't let that food go to waste up there?"

Your laugh from there makes her pout slightly.

"I just gave you some of the best three orgasms you've had and your first thought is that?"

Your tone is teasing, and she whines, shoving you lightly.

"I just feel bad is all." You reassure her quickly.

"Don't worry, I made sure my assistants had the food wrapped up and put in storage for now."

"Assistants?" She cocks a brow and you move to straddle her bare waist.

"Yup, my assistants."

"Uhuh, also what makes you think these were the best three orgasms I've had."

You gawk slightly, hands now settling on her ribcage.

"Oh, you've had better have you?"

She braces, slightly hands settling against your wrists, knowing where this is going.

"Mhm, maybe."

Your gleam turns mischievous, and your fingers start to twitch at her sides.

"Is that so?"

Her laughter rings out as you tickle her, squealing slightly and trying to shove your hands away as you relentless torture the poor woman.

"Baby, please! I'm sorry, that was a lie! Please!"

"Oh, was it now? Who gave you the best, huh?"

"You did! you always do, nobody else!"

You slow your ministrations and lean down to take her lips with yours as she calms her breathing again.

"Damn right."

Her breathing turns to soft sighs as you trail your kisses down, resting at her abdomen, tracing the soft lines of her stomach.

It's like everything hits you all at once, the moment she's in your lap, rocking her hips into your hand, your lips trailing up her neck and she breathlessly whimpers your name when your fingers curl inside her.

The moment her legs start to shake and the high of her orgasm reaches, it's out of your lips before you can stop it.

"Marry me."

It catches her off guard, her eyes shooting open slightly as she cries out, clenching around you.

**(if you wanna read the proposal)**

Her breathing calms, and her head moves forward from having been lulled back.

"You wanna repeat that?" It's not said with anger, only a soft undertone of surprise.

Your cheeks turn red at that. You mutter it again.

"Please marry me?"

You don't expect the soft laugh that accompanies it.

"Baby, that was the most unorthodox way you could have proposed."

The tips of your ears are now burning too, and you turn your head slightly to avoid her gaze but she grabs your face and kisses you hard.

"God, yes, I'll marry you."

You grin hard and kiss her again.

You pull away, slipping out from under her to grab your discarded suit pants from the floor, digging out the box.

A soft sigh, leaving your lips as you, still naked, lower yourself to your good knee.

"I was planning on doing it after dinner, but I half chickened out, and now I'm doing this. I wanted to give you a proper proposal, one that you deserve and one that'll you'll remember for the rest of our lives. While the second half may be true, I'm disappointed for not doing it earlier."

She moves to the edge of the bed, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.

"I love you so much. You've been there for me when I wouldn't let anyone else in. You've been my rock, my whole world. You supported me when I was ready to give up. You've lifted me up when we've both been triumphant and you've given me every bit of your heart you could and I love you so much for it and I want, if you'll let me, to spend the rest of our lives repaying it by giving the same back to you."

You pop open the ring box.

"Charlotte Layne Grant. Will you do the honour of making the happiest woman in Brisbane, Australia, and marry me?"

Her laugh is choked up with soft sobs as she nods. "Of course I'll fucking marry you."

Her hands pull you up onto the bed again, kissing you hard and you catch yourself from falling onto her entirely, ringbox still in hand.

You pull away just enough, tears now streaming down your own face, too.

You show her the ring, and she finally gets a glimpse of it. It's a custom, rose gold ring with roses and a deep set diamond with two rubies set on either side at the top. There's also something engraved on the inside.

The moment she reads the inscription, she covers her mouth to stop her sobs.

You look at her worried.

"Is it okay? Are you okay? I didn't know if-"

She tackles you back onto the mattress, and you nearly fall off the bed entirely, just barely managing to catch yourselves.

"I love it, it's perfect."

On the inside, it says.

"To my love, my life, Charlotte Layne Grant-L/n"

"May you forever shine at your brightest, my superstar."

You help her slip the ring on, and her arms immediately wrap around your neck, and you bury your face in her hair, just sitting and holding her.

You finally did it.

You're marrying your superstar.

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

#charlotte grant x reader #charlotte grant imagine #charlotte grant imagines #charlie grant x reader #charlie grant imagines #charlie grant imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso #woso imagine

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joelsmorality · 1 year

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EYES WIDE OPEN [1]

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader, platonic bonding with Ellie. Summary: Somehow, you managed to find Joel and Ellie ending their journey just as you were beginning your own. After being captured in David’s resort and witnessing the horrors within, Ellie manages to save your life as she escapes and you end up staying with them for the time being at Ellie’s offer. Yet, things aren’t as they seem, and you’re also not sure if her gruff guardian won’t murder you in your sleep. Warnings: Gore, death, mentions of cannibalism, fire, angst. Please read at your own risk. Note: I’ve had this idea kicking around in my head for a while, though I can’t say for certain it hasn’t been done before. Still, I thought I’d write it up and see if anybody is interested in it! If you want to be added to a tag list, please let me know!

Perhaps you should have been relieved that the attention had been shifted off you.

Yet, you just felt more dread.

Your whole world had shifted over the last day or so. Again. It had been bad enough when the initial outbreak began, yet you had foolishly assumed that the biggest threat out there was the infected. Humans could be just as cruel, if not moreso. You were paying for that oversight in the current moment, your stomach twisting each time when you would think deep enough to realize just how horrible of a situation you found yourself in. It had been enough to make you forget the exhaustion and hunger that had built up over the last day.

Hunger had been the issue that started all of this.

David–your deeply devout, fair, and kind leader–was a sick son of a bitch. You had seen his bad side a couple times over the years–asking too many questions, showing too much doubt, witnessing him laying a hand on people who spoke too far out of turn. Your opinion hadn’t always been the highest of him, but this was beyond anything you could have imagined him doing. Which was probably one of the many mistakes you had made.

You had come across his group as a loner–your family was either gone or missing, and you knew it was impossible to seek out anybody at this point. It had been nice in the beginning–you had shelter, food, people. You hadn’t been the most social, but it was better than trying to survive on your own. That was, until the hunger had set in. Tensions were high, you wanted to help and eventually you had found yourself digging into something you really shouldn’t have.

You were a loner, which made you easier to disappear.

The image of the bodies hanging in the dark with a nauseating similarity to a slaughterhouse sat at the edge of your mind, knowing that a similar fate awaited you.

Until Ellie.

At least, that was what you had heard her shout when she had broken David’s finger–she had a fight in her, which gave you some hope. Yet, you saw the spark in David, which was what had your stomach turning at his fascination toward her. You didn’t have any children of your own, nor any younger family that you had looked after, but witnessing the way he spoke to her made you wish you hadn’t been separated in two different cages so you could help her. Animals awaiting slaughter.

Yet, Ellie had that fight in her–something that had left you long before you found yourself in the situation you were. Yet, you knew patience would wear thin and there was only so much she could do until they got sick of her.

Given that you had been in there longer than her, you had only hoped that they’d take you out first. Give her the time and chance to escape. Her arrival had delayed your death, anyway.

Yet, you should have known that David would be playing by his own rules.

Sleep had escaped you since you had been captured, yet during the momentary quiet moments you had found yourself nodding off despite your efforts otherwise. You knew you wanted to be alert at all times, watching for ways to escape. Yet, you couldn’t focus. It felt like you had exhausted all your resources–you had kicked at the gate to your cage almost endlessly during the first day, hoping against hope that the lock would just break off and you’d be able to run. Yet, that went nowhere and just exhausted you further.

You refused to eat, too–knowing what they had been serving to the community, thinking it was deer or whatever meat they could hunt…despite your hunger, it only made you sick to think about.

Still, you knew, despite the lack of energy, that you would be up at any disturbance. At least, you had hoped.

In reality, your head had snapped up at Ellie’s yelling without knowing how long she had been doing so. You managed to sit up and crawl toward your own cell door as you watched David and James hoist her up onto the table. Given the blood you had seen on it, it didn’t take long for its use to click in your brain.

“Hey!” you shouted, finally finding your own voice, “She’s just a kid! Let her go! Let her go!”

It was useless, given Ellie’s own shouts and struggles. They carried on as if you weren’t in the room, as much as that realization didn’t really settle in you as you tried to throw your shoulder against the cage door in a feeble attempt to try to help her.

They were going to cut her up, and you would have to sit there and watch it. You were useless to help, as much as you didn’t want to believe that at the moment. Still, that was as clear as day as David finally raised his cleaver up. Yet, Ellie’s voice cut through the momentary silence in that action, her words making everybody in the room pause. Including you.

It took you a few moments to process that–infected? You had plenty of run-ins with infected on the road before you wound up where you were, and she certainly didn’t look and act like someone about to turn. From what you could see on the faces of David and James, you could see that same line of thought.

“Roll up my sleeve–look at it. Look at it!” Ellie insisted, you watching on with wide eyes.

After a few moments, David swung the knife down quickly. You heard it hit the table, the action and sound making you flinch as a sound caught in your throat. Yet, from Ellie still moving on the table, you could tell that he hadn’t killed her. Or hit her, given the silence. David pulled her sleeve up, pausing at what he saw that you couldn’t see from where you were on the floor across the room.

From the look on both his and James’ faces, you could tell whatever was on her arm was pretty convincing.

“What did you say?” Ellie said after a moment, you almost being unable to hear her. “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

“David…” James started, equally as quiet and disbelieving.

“No…” David said after another pause, shaking his head in denial. “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

“That looks pretty fuckin’ real to me…”

The next several seconds seemed to pass in a blur for you. In their confusion and disbelief, Ellie took advantage of their hesitation to pull the knife by her head out of the table and swung it into the side of James’ neck. Ellie took off with David pulling out a pistol and shooting at her, firing off shots until you could hear the click, click of an empty chamber. He paused for a moment, looking around the room for a moment before he met your gaze.

He almost seemed to look through you, but you could see the darkness in his expression. You weren’t surprised when he pulled the knife from James’ neck and followed her out into the main area of the building.

And you were still in the damn cage.

With a grunt, you threw yourself against the door again–a sense of panic and urgency driving you to ignore the aches and bruises the force of that was going to give you. You did so over and over again, letting out short yells and what may have been sobs. As much as you were definitely hitting it with some force, the door still wouldn’t open. You had to break the lock, and as you were unarmed, you knew it wasn’t possible in your current situation.

Still, you didn’t want to give up. You continued to slam against the bars, not exactly knowing what was happening outside the room as you couldn’t really hear anything. You were focused on your attempts to escape, yet you could feel your legs starting to give out as that familiar exhaustion started to make itself known. After a few more slams with your shoulder, your knees buckled that had you grasping onto the bars to keep yourself from falling to the floor.

At that moment, you were suddenly aware of the smell of smoke. It had been lingering in your nostrils, yet at the moment you could really smell it. You could almost taste it. Whatever had happened outside that room, someone had set the building on fire.

And you were still locked in the damn cage.

You continued your struggles, pulling yourself upright again and started to shake and slam yourself against the door. Your eyes were starting to burn–from the smoke or unshed tears, you weren’t sure. Yet, you had to stop again after a short while as you coughed, the smoke significant enough to shake reality into you for a few moments.

Gripping the bars on the cage door, you shook it hard with a yell that burned your throat. Fear, anger, and disbelief swirling in your gut as you continue to yell.

“Help me!” you screamed, “Please! I–I don’t…I don’t want to die like this…”

Your voice had faltered at the end, realizing how smoking the room had gotten. It was…unsettlingly quiet, aside from your shaky breathing and the coughs that would force their way out of your lungs as you struggled against the smoke that burned at the back of your throat. The fight was starting to leave you, ripping an angry sob from you as you kicked uselessly against the door before backing against the wall.

Another cough hit you, mixing with the sobs that you were already letting out. If you didn’t burn to death first, the smoke would suffocate you. You didn’t know which was worse.

Seconds seemed to drag by, the hopelessness of the situation almost making you collapse onto the floor. Yet, you heard the door to the room open. You glanced up to see someone step in, making their way toward your cage. You stilled, recognition taking a moment to settle before you realized the person in front of you was Ellie.

She looked rough–hair a mess, a haunted look on her face, and she was covered in blood. You had no idea what happened when she left the room, and you didn’t really have the words to say anything. The fact that she was still standing told enough of a story at the moment. She set about releasing the lock from the door to your cage, knowing where she got the keys from but you didn’t want to say anything. Didn’t need to.

Considering the look Ellie gave you before giving you a wordless nod, it seemed you both were in agreement to just get the hell out.

You followed after her, realizing that the building really was on fire as the smoke in the main area nearly choked you. Letting out a heavy cough, you covered your mouth with your arm as you weaved through the booths and tables toward the doors. Your eyes stung, the smoke you had already inhaled making it a struggle to breathe in the thicker air. Still, you were almost out.

You noticed a flash of white, daylight through the haze of smoke ahead of you. Mindlessly, you followed that, even after the door shut behind Ellie. Finally, you reached it and pushed it open.

The cold, winter air hit you as you stepped out. You stumbled a few steps in the snow before a series of coughs hit you, making you double over as your lungs struggled to get in fresh air. Dizziness wrapped around you for a few moments, though Ellie’s shouting pulled you out of it after a few moments.

Someone was holding onto her as she screamed for them to let her go, which made you stagger forward a couple steps until she stopped. Ellie let the man pull her into an embrace, which made your steps slow before you stopped a safe distance from them.

If you weren’t still struggling to wrap your head around the last hour, you would have probably felt awkward lingering in the background of a private moment.

The resort was oddly quiet, outside of the wind and the faint creaking of the building that was currently burning down. The group wasn’t huge, but you figured there would be people rushing about to stop that. Something had happened, something you weren’t around to witness, but you realized that your time there was done. In that moment, you let out another dry cough, finally starting to feel like you could breathe a little easier.

The sound pulled Ellie and the man out of their moment, however, the look on the man’s face gave you pause. Clearing your throat, you raised your free hand up in a quiet show of peace. For some reason, you hadn’t found your voice again after the shouting you had done.

Everything was happening so quickly…

“It’s–It’s okay, Joel. She was with me when…” Ellie said after a few moments, still holding onto the arm of the man–Joel–as he stared you down. From the look on his face, you had a feeling that if you made a wrong move, he’d charge.

Given everything that happened, you couldn’t blame him. Still, you remained where you were, watching him carefully.

Finally, your gaze shifted toward Ellie as you cleared your throat.

“Thank you…” you said slowly, voice rough, “For saving me. I have…nothing to repay you, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ellie said, sounding almost as reluctant to speak as you were.

You knew you should just nod and move on. Gather some supplies and head out again–yet, you were exhausted and had nowhere to go. Had no idea where to even start. Still, you said your thanks and you knew you should just leave before you press your luck. You had more than enough.

You remained, however, Ellie and Joel watching you in silence for a few moments as you did the same. Your legs were rooted to the spot, a heavy feeling in your gut. You were scared–more so than you had been in years. Just turn around and…

“You have nowhere else to go, do you?” Ellie asked, pulling you out of your head.

“...I definitely can’t stay here,” you replied–she was right, though, even if you didn’t want to admit it. This had been your group. Until…well.

“Come with us,” Ellie offered, making your brow furrow somewhat.

“Ellie,” Joel hissed, the warning clear in his tone.

You had an idea on what Ellie could do, but you didn’t know what to make of him. For now, you wanted to avoid pissing him off. You had enough abuse over the last couple of days.

“Just until you can find a place,” Ellie continued, meeting your gaze despite Joel’s protest. “Right?”

“I…I won’t overstay my welcome, if I can,” you said, finally relenting to the silent plea of help that you weren’t even aware you were making, “Until I find people. I would…be really grateful for that. You’ve done more than enough already.”

Ellie and Joel shared a quiet moment, something silent there but it seemed like he relented. With much reluctance, given his body language. Still, he wrapped an arm around Ellie to help lead her forward, the girl casting you a look over her shoulder with a tight grin. There was a pain in her eyes that you could easily read. It pulled at the feeling in you over this whole situation, but you had no idea what happened between her and David. Outside from the fact that he was dead.

Still, you supposed that was your queue to follow. It took a few moments before you managed to follow after them with unsteady steps.

You didn’t know how this would play out, but at the moment you were just relieved to leave.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #my writing.#series: eyes wide open.

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tcookies777 · 1 month

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Where I am now

Many of you have left such kind comments and sent me messages out of concern for my wellbeing. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I also appreciate your patience as I understand it can be difficult to wait months for a chapter update on a long, tedious fic such as The Anatomy of Love. Your patience for this story is always sincerely appreciated.

I've been struggling for months to find the right words to say. To decide whether to express the ache in my heart or draw lines and stay silent. But while a part of me wishes to say little to nothing on the matter out of a sense of shame, the better part of me recognizes that conversations like the one I'm about to raise are something that needs to be discussed more. If only to raise awareness of the topic or help destigmatize it. If only to normalize issues like these. If only to just help someone else who might be going through a dark period in their life as well.

It's here that I'll give a final warning of the sensitive topics of this post. So feel free to turn away now if the topic of mental illness might be upsetting.

Trigger warning: suicide and mental illness

Ok, so here goes....

My sister committed suicide. I won't go into details of course, but it was not peaceful or quiet - it was violent, gruesome, and excruciatingly painful. So much so that the police thought it might've been a murder and harshly investigated us, making everything more difficult and traumatizing than it already was.

She had battled with depression for nearly 2 decades, deteriorating far beyond recognition. We had grown estranged over the years of my childhood because she pushed loved ones away, blaming them for the way she turned out but also still relying on them to survive. An awful cycle of codependency.

I myself have been battling with high-functioning depression for the past decade, which is one reason why I struggle to respond to people's messages. From readers, friends, and family alike. I, too, have an issue of pushing people away. Because I'm ashamed for them to see how broken my life is. Because I have seen the way people judge you for having a mental illness. I have witnessed friends, family, and even Healthcare workers gaze upon the mentally ill as if they are a sore sight.

To be honest, I understand both sides; it can also be frustrating to pool all your time, effort and resources into trying to help someone who does not want to be helped. It burns you out. That despite your efforts to fight for that person, they do not fight for themselves and you're forced to watch them deteriorate in a slow, agonizing process.

"At the beginning, you’ll do your best to shoulder all my burdens. At the beginning, you’ll be strong about it. But over time, you’ll come to regret it—you'll come to regret me, and the burden that I have become to you." — Kakashi, Chapter 30 of The Anatomy of Love

On the other side, it's hard to take that step to accept the help offered to you. It's hard to find the strength to meet your loved ones halfway and help them to help you when you hardly have the strength to even get out of bed. Yet, you also feel guilty because it feels as if you are just dragging down those around you.

These are the feelings Kakashi expresses to Sakura in Chapter 30, when he tries to explain the reasons why they cannot and should not pursue a relationship. Guilt and self-loathing are the feelings that have been eating me up inside for years, as they ate at my sister as well.

We were born from a loveless, violent marriage. So we didn't know how to love each other, though we did whether we wanted to or not. Likely it was the trauma that bonded us. But put together, my sister and I were oil and water. Loving someone who is your family but is practically a stranger to you is incredibly difficult and taxing.

Yet, I understood completely. You just don't know how to show love to someone when you were never given love.

But despite my estrangement from my sister, I still love her. Being a 1st generation American often means you have nothing but your family. When you have no house, no savings, no relatives to turn to - just your immediate family - it can be a toxic, tough love where you have only that person whether you like them or not. And in Asian culture, family is especially everything even when it's completely dysfunctional.

So why am I updating TAOL now?

It's mostly for myself. Because it's my own comfort fic that allows me to engage in therapeutic writing. It's a story of loneliness and love of all forms (romantic, sexual, familial, etc). More importantly, it's a story about finding family, finding love, and finding home. Something that I've yearned for all my life.

And it's a story of pursuing happiness even when you think you don't deserve it. It's a story that shows good coping mechanisms and bad coping mechanisms and their consequences. It's a story of picking yourself up by the bootstraps even when you just want to sit and wallow in despair. And it's also a story of embracing the love of those around you and taking their hands when they reach out to you and offer their support.

At its core, The Anatomy of Love is a story about fighting loneliness, self-hatred, guilt, and mental illness with love. With the love of friends and family. And with the love for yourself. Because while it's important to have a strong support system to love and look out for you, it is just as important to love yourself and really put in the effort to take care of yourself. And sometimes that means being ""selfish"" and prioritizing yourself over others.

Why am I saying all this?

I'll admit, I'm uncomfortable revealing the skeletons in my closet to strangers online where everyone can judge and share my secrets. I'm embarrassed to admit that TAOL's themes are projections of my own desires, and for people to know that I write about such things in fanfic because of the fact that I don't have them. But I'm just too insecure to talk to anyone 1 on 1. Not to mention that, unfortunately, it's not that simple to just go to therapy (especially when the healthcare system is broke here).

Most importantly, I hope that if there's anyone out there reading this and going through a shitty point in their lives as well... I hope you are able to take comfort in the fact that you are not alone in this. We individually have our own demons to fight, but we're all fighting the same battle.

I wish I could say it gets better, but there's honestly no guarantee. So many times, I've had to stop myself from telling patients "things'll get better" because that's a promise that we're taught never to make. The truth is no one knows if things really do get better. Personally, I haven't been feeling better at all. For most of my life, people have been telling me it gets better and to just be patient, but every year it actually gets worse and worse. And just when you think things are starting to look up, it instead gets even more worse.

It's tiresome waiting years for things to get better when it seems it's nowhere in sight.

But I'm trying my best to take it day by day. I do my best to get out of bed, go to work, take a proper shower, feed myself. I do my best to love myself - mostly out of fear that what little family I have will one day disappear and I will have no one left to love me. No one but myself.

But sometimes my best does not feel enough. Sometimes I hate myself more days than others.

That's okay, I tell myself. I hate myself today, but I will love myself tomorrow. I will forgive myself eventually. I can be happy eventually. One day at a time.

Because on my better days, I realize that not every person can afford to wait for things to get better. You have to be the one to take the initiative - get off your ass and take that step forward and make things better yourself. All the people around you can offer you all the help that you need, but the most important thing is that YOU have to want to help yourself.

So that's all I am able to say for now. I do apologize if my thoughts are a bit discombobulated. I am still struggling to find my feet when it feels like I'm still drowning under pounding waves of darkness. If you've read this far, I appreciate you taking the time to read this.

Meanwhile, I hope you guys can continue to enjoy reading The Anatomy of Love. The chapter is not entirely to my satisfaction due to the last minute revisions I made, but I wanted a sprinkle of happiness in the moment. I think that's something we all need.

Also, thank you for the messages you have sent me and the comments you left. I'm truly sorry I do not have the courage or strength to respond, but please know I am forever grateful and touched that people would reach out to a stranger like me.

Hope to see you soon,

TCOOKIES

#a cookie speaks #the anatomy of love

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bagelvangr · 1 year

Text

Randivor AU where Eivor never leaves Heillboer after the attack and Styrbjorn never gained the influence that he did.

Bear with me, this one needs quite a bit of exposition, I think!

(omfg 6k words, I am SO sorry, I am putting it under a cut. I'M SORRY I posted this at 4:30am and I was definitely already more than half-asleep!!)

–

After the attack, Gunnar speaks up for the clan and is extremely disappointed at how little Styrbjorn’s forces were able to help in a small, nighttime raid. Sure, it was a surprise and they were in the middle of a feast; but it seemed like something a jarl of Styrbjorn’s supposed caliber could have easily fought back against. They are thankful for the help and remain allies, but the trust and the allegiance had been forever fractured.

Gunnar takes guardianship of Eivor and rallied what remained of the bear clan to rebuild their homes.

They gladly do so; healing together as a community. Bound together in helping the remaining heir of their jarl recover from her vicious wounds; swearing to become stronger and self-reliant and never being taken by surprise ever again.

Eivor grows up learning the harsh truth of the world around her; the realities that faced their clan and the turmoil that grew all around Norway. She never bid for the jarl’s seat, she never had ambition to play as a leader in a seat.

Unspoken, everyone in Heillboer had no doubt that the seat was all Eivor’s. They don’t contest her claim at any point, nor do they force her to be the central ruler. Neither Gunnar nor Svala or anyone else that survived that night ever tried to place that burden upon the Wolf-Kissed. They were far too busy taking care of each other and building up what was lost.

When she was old enough to understand all that a longhouse and a jarl and the lineage of her birth implied; Eivor made the final decision to keep Heillboer to be defined as the clan. The bears at the north of Rygjafylke; rebuilt and strengthened by the trials put upon them in a treacherous world.

The scar of the wolves remain, but the call of the Allfather never truly awakens within her. The need for vengeance ran deep, and in her darkest moments, she faltered and thought of how to grant justice for all the wrongs done at the hands of others. She often found solace at the peak of Fannaraki Summit, a place she visited often to look upon their small settlement and to the seas just beyond their docks. She loved to climb and meditate for hours. To look all around and see the craggy fjords and how the snow remained undisturbed inland.

She knew that just eastward were where wolves had started to settle. She knew that Kjotve had built up a fortress right where their lands and Egdafylke bordered. She knew that the wolves were weakening with each season and harsh winter that went by, and if she so wished; she could end the lineage of an entire clan with a single night of battle by herself.

Eivor knew all of this and thought of it often when she sat at the top of the world. But with plenty of sighs and hours of stacking cairns in the memory of her parents – with the patience of her mother and the strength of her father; she always found herself climbing down and making her way back to Heillboer more resolute to never shed blood when there was home to go back to.

Patience and strength were what her parents imparted upon her.

Gunnar raised her to be dutiful, loyal, to build her own merit in the world. Svala had raised her to be tactful, wise, and kind.

A selfish need for vengeance endangered all of the core values that she built for herself and would have brought nothing but misery to the clan she sought to protect, and one that cared for and cultivated her unique strengths in return.

She had given up the longhouse for the whole of the clan, having settled in a small dwelling for herself close to the cave where she used to explore and play with her father and train with her mother.

Her efforts were focused on securing the safety of her people as Rygjafylke and Hordafylke grew more and more unstable; avoiding conflict in an increasingly bloodthirsty world and keeping a low profile as to not draw the attention of those seeking glory in or out of Norway. Their position at the border meant that she was able to intercept trade routes and secure exotic goods in trade for their artisan wares and rare cures, courtesy of Gunnar’s forge and the unmatched, sagacious knowledge of their young seer; inherited from the all-knowing Svala.

Slowly, more and more settlements and travelers learned of Heillboer. More and more sought a formal alliance with the clan of bears; once unable to do so for the lack of offering to secure such an alliance, many started to realize that there was no such fealty or lavish offering needed in return.

The bears had found wealth in forging their bonds amongst their clan and power in truly sharing what gave them strength: a community at the heart of Norway, driven by impressive frith and unburdened with ambition.

Eivor was their center, their beacon, their strength; but she was not the sole pillar they relied on. She strengthened them in every way, and they strengthened her in a way not easily emulated by others in a fundamentally different mindset.

Randvi had never really liked politics either.

Being the daughter of a jarl, however, it was something she could not easily avoid. Her father would plead with her and make her sit and study the long sessions he held with his advisors in the war room of their grand longhouse.

The reindeers were not a clan that could boast strength; but cunning and strategy led them to accumulate riches that afforded them more stability and power that a small clan could dream of.

Randvi, at any point in these political discussions would have gladly rather been practicing with her bow, fishing, hunting, sparring with her sister, her brother, the many vikingr training and preparing for their expeditions.

They enjoyed their fairly quiet life at Tromøya, taking advantage of their position between the Danes and Geats to diversify their economy despite their small seat in the larger picture of Egdafylke.

At one point; Randvi’s father had been more concerned about seeking alliances. In the great era of Ragnar’s travels, it became apparent that the divide in Norway meant that there were two paths to the survival of a clan: Those who wielded brute strength and sought glory turned vikingr to follow in Ragnar’s path; seeking other lands across the sea to settle as their own. Those that remained saw the opportunity in a fractured Norway, taking up the void in power to absorb clans and lands into their own. To survive was to find and secure strong alliances.

When Randvi was just about to be of age to be involved in these talks was when she started rebelling against her father’s wishes. She was the youngest and the most cherished out of her siblings, and her father had a particular weakness to her wishes. Whenever she happened to have been requested to accompany her father in so-called innocent travels to meet other jarls, Randvi would conveniently end up in a multi-day hunt or a week-long fishing trip on her boat. Her siblings would join and her mother encouraged her – though she did it to escape having to sit through politics and hearing men who barely cared to understand her or her family barter her future and potential away, she always came back with plenty of spoils. Whether it was hunted game, an abundance of fish, securing new trade routes or finding new cultures to send over to their island, Randvi still made sure her actions benefitted her family and her clan.

It was a habit that persisted into her adulthood. The conflicts in Rygjafylke had calmed and the vikingr came about less often, but her father still kept on meeting with those in the seats around them to better their relations. It shouldn’t have surprised her to hear that in one of these travels, her father had actually come quite close to securing an alliance with a jarl in Rygjafylke; the ravens of Fornburg were quite receptive to her father’s proposals. In particular, the jarl’s son had shown a hefty interest in the diversity of the travelers her father had told them frequented their harbours. The ravens did not have as much strength as they did before; the turmoil of the previous years getting to them too; in particular, they had trouble with the wolves and lost the alliance of most of the northern part of their border. But they were still a potential ally that held strong ties to the seat in Stavanger.

Randvi disappeared for almost two moons after learning the news.

She had taken to travel inland, seeking isolation from the circumstances of her birth, seeking connection with others in the smaller settlements leading up to the mountains. At one point, she saw a grand peak and took it upon herself to climb up there; not really caring for the harshness of the winter causing the snow to pile up and ignoring the constant burning in her limbs as she made her way up the steep, jagged rocks.

At the peak, she found serenity and silence. An impressive array of cairns were balanced right at the perfect flat surface; facing a small village at the end of the endless valley below.

She was not the only one to find this place and take a refreshing breath away from the turmoil of everything else.

It was almost nighttime when she decided to finally descend. The sky had been lit by a fantastic river of greens and blues, specked by the occasional purples and reds. The gods would light her way down.

She had told no one but Kiarr where she was going; which meant that if anyone else knew of her whereabouts, it would be Thora, who would encourage her to find her own way instead of be bound to the wills of their father.

So when Randvi returned to Tromøya, it was with great surprise she could not suppress when she heard that Thora had agreed to an alliance that her father had secured.

And not to the ravens, but to the wolves close to the region she had just spent her time sulking away at the prospect of being tied to a man – to politics, to strategize, advise, to build and protect and not be thanked.

Thora only smiled at her and reassured her that it was completely her choice; that she had wanted to bring stability and power to their seat too, and that perhaps this was what would stabilize and give respect to the reindeer once and for all.

So in the following years when Kiarr had ended up leaving Tromøya; when Thora had suddenly reappeared in their longhouse again; when their father spent nights apologizing to his children and their mother giving comfort and promising them they would never need to fulfill any duties to their clan ever again; Randvi steeled herself and swore that she would not play the game of politics.

The fragile jarls of Norway could have their power grabs and petty wars; the reindeers and her family would find stability in ventures not involving strife and blood.

She doubled her efforts in listening more to what happened around the harbour; to the tales being regaled in the taverns, to the fleeting conversations of key movements of armies and traders all around the Nordic world.

Thankfully, it seemed that their only threat would be if the Danes decided to launch an attack onto them; but it seemed as if they were more preoccupied with exploring new lands beyond the seas to think of invading and attacking their neighbours.

Slowly, they grew more stable, but she was also aware of the growing influence of Harald in the north and how he was making his intent to rule all of Norway by allying or absorbing each clan he came across.

The reindeer found themselves in a strange position of safety; her father being a cousin of Harald’s own father, thereby related to a degree. There was a small sense of comfort that the Yngling’s first target would not necessarily be the reindeers.

They weren’t fools though, and Randvi had grown to be quite the tactician with all of the information she was able to gather. Her rebellious streak and desire to partake in activities that other nobles cared little for made her popular with the other clan members and she carried an easy, charismatic relationship with almost all of the merchants that frequented their island with trade.

She knew that even if they didn’t seek any official alliances and even if they were willing to let Harald take official rule of their land; they had no guarantees under the new rule and far too much ambiguity about resolving disputes between clans to not at least attempt to bolster their connections with the borders they held.

To the east was already Harald’s territory, and to the west was Rygjafylke; so to the west it was.

The wolves were no longer an option, having quite a history with her siblings. There were the ravens which never officially denied or absolved the possibility of an alliance; but from what she heard, Fornburg had less influence over their region now, especially with the son of the jarl perpetually away in other lands. It was more likely that the ravens would be enthusiastically absorbed into Harald’s plan than be interested in allying with another smaller clan in a unified Norway.

That left really one clan within their borders, and it was definitely one that intrigued her.

Just beyond the summit she remembered so clearly in her mind was the settlement of the bear clan.

Randvi had heard frequent tales of the bears and of Heillboer. They came off more as fantastical sagas; myths that could not possibly be. The bear clan held stability and influence and were able to fend off attempts of absorption by far more powerful clans without a jarl to lead them through it all.

But Randvi knew. She listened. She observed and made the connections. She knew of the Wolf-kissed. She knew about the tragedy that befell and nearly wiped the small settlement. She knew that although the bears claimed no jarl, that they would follow the Wolf-kissed to the ends of the earth, but that they would never be asked to carry such a burden.

The Wolf-kissed held a soft power that was far more impressive than any amount of bannermen could ever rally.

It was an unbreakable claim of frith; a community that truly held each other together.

If there was to be stability within the reindeers in the change to come in Norway, they had to approach it with as little visibility and as much subtlety as possible. They didn’t need a show of strength or to hold a large region. No, they needed alliance and true connections with a clan that understood and fundamentally operated in much the same as their own.

Randvi would approach her father and suggest they seek an alliance, much to the jarl’s (and the rest of her family’s) surprise. They were all left stunned when she further explained that she sought to approach the bear clan without a show of force.

The jarl would consider Randvi's suggestion. He was skeptical of the benefits and the truth of the myths. Surely a clan so well known as being without a leader would have been overtaken by another and forcibly absorbed into their own. He would be careful.

Four fine warriors and two of their most knowledgeable ledgers would make journey into the mountainous path. They would bring rare metals found in the exotic trades made between Rus and the Celts. They would bring fine herbs and crops only found in climates far warmer than their own. Surely the winters had been harsh on them as well.

He expected them to come back with new information, but he was not prepared for them to return in jovial spirits, regaling the longhouse with tales of a lone warrior that hunted and fended for their clan. The same warrior was mentioned again and again as the ones to assess the new party and introduce them to the variety of trade that existed there.

The same warrior that caught the favour of Ran and Njord, the abundance of fish they caught despite the frigid waters almost mythical in the way they told it.

It was not said explicitly, but the jarl already knew that this warrior was the one who took the seat of leader with the bears. Why they never took the title of jarl was a mystery he wanted to find out.

Randvi, ever the observant one, caught and analyzed every word. She was pleased to have her suspicions confirmed.

The crew that were sent to Heillboer were a fine bunch, but she had also heard of small raids and attacks in the villages in-between; the wolves in turmoil with their own and with others that passed through. Many were desperate and a decorated yet minimal crew from a clan known for their rich trade should not have passed so effortlessly.... would not have passed so effortlessly. She had heard of a lone warrior patrolling the mountains and the borders, allowing for the safe passage of those on the trade routes without their knowledge.

Putting it together, she concluded that it must be the same person. The one that refused the official title of jarl ensured the prolonged safety of their people, and assured the safe passage of the members of her clan.

For the next stage of her plan, she surprised her father yet again by offering to go by herself.

She did not surprise Thora or her mother when they learned that she had not even waited for the permission of the jarl; having immediately set out the night before with the help of someone that looked suspiciously like Kiarr.

It started off slow.

Randvi allowed herself to be selfish in her lone trek. The weather had been fair, and while there had been storms in the moons before, the sun was more forgiving on her way to Heillboer.

She had indulged herself and made her way up beyond a lake and onto the same peak she had been at years before. She knew that the trek down into the settlement in the distance would not take her more than half a day, but she felt strangely empty handed as she finally saw the longhouse in her line of sight.

When she made her way down from the summit, she prepared her bow as she approached the tree line, keeping an eye on any game that might be small enough for her to carry alone and present as a gift. Actual reindeer had been abundant in the area, grazing on the new green exposed by a small patch of sunlight melting the snow away.

She gauged that the settlement had to be fairly close; she was nearly level with the sea where she was at. Feeling like she had quite a bit of energy still, she set her ambition a little higher and tracked a juvenile reindeer – one that she would likely have a little trouble carrying by herself, but not so much that it would encumber her and prevent her from presenting the kill as a gift as she arrived into the town.

Carefully moving through the rocks and avoiding making too much noise in the crunching snow, Randvi took aim and shot an arrow straight into the neck of her prey. Unfortunate timing meant that the animal had turned its head slightly before the arrow pierced, so it was not a clean kill. Randvi would quickly fire off another arrow, but as good of a shot as she was, she couldn’t predict the movements of a thrashing, panicked animal.

The second arrow dug itself into the back of the reindeer and it ran off into the crag away from her view.

Having scared off all the others, Randvi knew she had to track it and at the very least not prolong its suffering. It seemed to have gone uphill, but at least it went in the general direction of Heillboer instead of away. Perhaps she had a chance still of arriving with a gift.

Eivor had found it all quite amusing. She had been sat at the hill close to Valka's when she noticed someone she had never seen before passing through the eastern crag. They had their bow held the ready, eyes scanning the grazing herds. She assumed she was looking for a target that would be easy to carry. She didn't see a horse or any companions with the woman.

When she had crouched low by the rocks, Eivor was skeptical that her shot would land. The reindeer she had set her eyes on were quite far and slightly uphill from where this hunter was.

It surprised her that when she fired an arrow, it not only connected solidly into the animal's neck, but the hunter was also able to quickly adjust her aim when the reindeer started to move.

Even though it was not a swift one shot kill, she would have expected any other hunter to have completely miss when the reindeer started to move.

She kept watching, the skill displayed fully catching her attention. She witnessed a second shot swiftly sent off as the reindeer rounded the rocks; and though she expected yet another miss here, she raised an impressed eyebrow when the second arrow pierced the back of the prey.

The animal had escaped the hunter's line of sight, but she had shown great skill already. Whoever this was had years of experience with a bow and was not someone to be underestimated.

From her vantage, she tracked the staggering animal as it made its way around the rough hills, all the while tracking and observing the hunter getting closer and closer to Heillboer.

It was hard to fully assess her from the distance, but Eivor could note fine, thick furs, an embroidered caplet and a subdued but tastefully decorated overtunic that did not bother to hide status to those who knew.

The spark of fire in her hair made it easy for Eivor to spot her in the backdrop of the white snow and black rocks; and as she made her way to the injured animal, she made a mental note to get to know the hunter a bit more if their paths crossed.

If they were half a good of a tracker as they were an archer, then Eivor was convinced they'd cross paths.

And so they did.

When Eivor first turned around, she had been in the middle of digging out the arrowhead in the reindeer's spine.

She expected to have to explain herself and say that she had no intent on stealing the hunter's kill, but she was surprised to observe that the hunter had no malice or wariness in their voice or demeanour.

The hunter stood relaxed, watching Eivor as she spoke. The hunter's clothes definitely did tell her that this was someone born into wealth, not necessarily someone she'd expect to have such prowess with a bow.

Curious of all, the way she spoke almost made it seem like she had planned for Eivor to have seen her to begin with.

Of course, to Randvi, that would have been the ideal situation. She made no attempts at concealing herself on her path to Heillboer. She made no attempts at hiding her status or her skills. She had expected to arrive into the settlement without any fanfare, but her ideal situation was actually close to unfolding right in front of her.

Randvi wanted Eivor to see her. She wanted Eivor be able to have enough time to be aware of her and gauge her skills as she hunted. She wanted to make the Wolf-kissed curious about her, and if she was being honest, there was a part of her that wishes she had found herself in danger with either bandits or with predators in the area just so she could see how the Wolf-kissed would react. Would she be left to her own devices? Would she be assessed in her ability to fend off danger? Would the Wolf-kissed jump in and help her without context on who she was? She knew she would be safe, but she wanted to experience the tales of the Wolf-kissed first hand.

How much would Eivor actually be able to tell about her just from these observations alone?

Eivor, to her credit, was able to tell quite a bit. She confirmed the details she noticed from afar.

Thick, clean furs. A fine capelet and finer embroidery on her over tunic. A small hatchet on her side, holstered in artisan leatherwork. The hunter's hands were exposed to the air, a handful of cloudberries in her palm. Braided red hair framed her face; the warm sun and the glow of the mostly undisturbed snow around them giving Eivor a brilliant chance to get captured in blue-green eyes that showed confidence and relaxed amusement. This woman was not threatened by their interaction, but clearly did not underestimate Eivor's capabilities.The hand that remained at her side playing at another holstered weapon Eivor had not yet had a chance to identify.

When their gaze met, Eivor found an equally analytic warrior looking straight at her with no attempt to hide what she had been doing.

There was a sense of knowing and familiarity there.

To both of them, they didn't feel like strangers meeting for the first time. It didn't feel like they needed to guard or hide themselves to each other or feel like they had to leverage status or make small talk about politics a d trade.

Eivor launched immediately into asking why Randvi had been travelling alone when their clan's party had just departed the settlement not a fortnight past. Randvi asked how Eivor knew she was in the same clan as them and Eivor could only respond with a genuine smile and the reply of, "They spoke rather highly of you".

Randvi smiled at that and replied right back, "I'm sure it's nothing compared to what I hear of you".

Randvi's expedition was well received in Heillboer. She would find all of her doubts about the myth surrounding the settlement and the bear clan to be cleared away. They thrived without a show of force because they made no claims to what was not theirs and because they relied on each other in times of hardship.

Eivor had ended up carrying the reindeer back into the settlement upon her own insistence and the clan members at the longhouse happily received it.

Randvi noted the lack of throne and grand chambers and let herself truly understand the implication of a self-ruling community.

She would spend the rest of winter in Heillboer, at first happily staying in the longhouse to observe all of the comings and goings of the clan and how they resolved their issues amongst their peers.

She would go on hunts and fishing trips with Eivor, who frequently invited her along for any and all activity.

It should have alarmed her how easily she felt she slotted into their community and into the companionship of Eivor, but she realized that this was exactly how a clan without a jarl would be able to survive so long.

The genuine connection had multiplied into magnitudes she did not even realize until she found herself hiking with Eivor one day to Fannaraki Summit.

She had learned that Eivor, much like herself, found no value in ambitious glory and making alliances with clans that would be as eager to drive a blade into your gut as they are to forge so-called bonds in a single night.

Randvi had understood all of a sudden as she sat next to Eivor carefully stacking stones and talking about what she remembered of her mother that she truly had no need to propose an alliance to Eivor or the bear clan. She realized that Eivor and the rest of Heillboer had been measuring her merit as a person from the moment they met her.

As she handed a rock over to Eivor to slowly and carefully balance on the stack, Randvi truly understood that she had been accepted before she even knew many in the clan. She knew that Eivor had assessed her from a distance and decided to befriend her before taking her to the rest of the bears. Randvi realized that perhaps she wanted to come alone because she wanted to know how she would be perceived if she presented herself as genuinely as possible instead of someone that had something beneficial to obviously offer the clan.

She knew that Eivor had accepted her. Knew that if they ran into trouble, she would protect her. Knew that she met everyone that she did because Eivor's company calmed any anxiety around a stranger walking in their community. She knew that they would all treat her with the same respect they did now no matter if Eivor was around or not, but it certainly was in her favour that Eivor took a liking to her so early. Randvi knew that an alliance would not need to be made official here.

Still, as Randvi listened to Eivor's retelling of her memories, of her parents, of a Heillboer from before, the more Randvi wanted to hear even more of the Wolf-kissed's history. At some point in her stay, she became less concerned about joining their clans together and what that could imply and found herself wanting to hear Eivor talk about anything and everything.

Randvi wanted to share herself too; to let Eivor know of her past and her family and her way of viewing the world around them. She hoped Eivor mirrored her want to know of each other and craved to listen as she did; even to spend time quietly alone together as she did.

Later on, when Randvi asks if she could stay anywhere else in Heillboer that wasn't the longhouse, Eivor would not hesitate to invite her to her home and Randvi was eager to accept.

When Thora arrived at the dock a moon later, she felt no surprise to see Randvi and Eivor approach together.

What did surprise her and what she pressed her sister on was the fact that they came out of Eivor's single room dwelling together. That they retired for the day at the same time as each other and went back at the same dwelling. That when one or the other went out to sail or fish or even go for a small walk, it was nearly always with each other.

It seems that relations between their clans had successfully been secured and her baby sister was enjoying the time in freedom of doing what she wanted with the security of not having to sneak around or feel as is she was being improper or endangering her family and the clan.

Thora was perceptive in her own right and while she was relieved she didn't have to protect her baby sister; she saw clear as day how subtly protective Eivor was of Randvi. She did feel slightly neglected when it was clear that Randvi preferred to spend her time with Eivor instead of her. She understood, of course, and the implications filled her heart with warmth and joy, she couldn't help but call out and tease Randvi about her new found passion.

To both of the reindeer women's surprise, Eivor did not shy away or get flustered by the topic; confirming without a doubt how she felt and what she wished for their clans and for her own personal relationship with a certain hunter that caught her attention so many months before.

Though she had yet to meet the rest of their clan and they had yet to come up with a plan on how to take on the dangers that faced them in the future of their country and beyond, Eivor made it very clear that her intent was for both of their clans to be intertwined and prosper, grow and expand together in more ways than one and on levels from personal to the dreaded political.

They would face the hardships of relentless winter storms, of social turmoil with their neighbours, with attempted raids on their lands keeping their physical prowess sharp and ready. They would face decisions they couldn't been to anticipate at where they stood then, but it was very clear.

The reindeer of Tromøya had found unity, solidarity, and an unbelievable match in values with the bears of Heillboer.

The future of Norway remained uncertain, but their two clans would find stability, peace, and safety in the years to come.

#randivor #eivor x randvi #randvi x eivor #eivor varinsdottir #randvi #ahhh my heart #I love them #it's been so long #I had to stop myself from working on this more #otherwise it would no longer be a speedpaint lol #randivor in norway au #honestly just another version of the randivor historic winter au #but make it 9th century #I got a little bit carried away with the au summary too #I had to stop myself from writing out a draft of the whole story #how different would their lives have been #what would fate make of them to bring them together yet again #and of course #for the 819038901283096th time these two hoes do be falling in-love AGAIN #anyways this somehow didn't end up having as much Randivor as I wanted?????#even though it's so long #sorry for any typos #I literally wrote all this on my phone #and I am extremely tired #sorry if there is a random word or sentence that didn't make sense lol #ac valhalla #ac: valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #assassin's creed valhalla #eivor wolfkissed

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geekywritings · 11 months

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“You are beautiful to me.”

Here is the first of the requests I still got in my inbox. There are quite a few of them, so thank you all for your patience in advance. I will get to all of them, I promise :D And thank you for showing my writing so much love! I absolutely adore Cal with all my heart and am so thrilled to share these stories with you!

And here is the request: “hi!! i’ve been living for all your cal kestis fics! im currently playing Survivor and i’ve always loved cal but there hasn’t been a lot of fics. so thank you!! if you’re taking requests… i would really love one about cal with a plus sized reader? it doesn’t necessarily have to be directly mentioned but just maybe insecurities the reader has but cal showing that he loves her and thinks she’s beautiful. maybe music is apart of reader’s life and she’s either apart of the mantis crew or like a koboh local? i haven’t really sent a request before so idk what you’d want but yeah… just been currently thinking about how cal would react or say in that situation… thank you” Please enjoy!

_____

Like most people on Koboh, you were looking to get away from something or someone. People here sought refuge, safety, or simply some peace. Yet they rarely talked about why they came to this desolate planet, choosing instead to focus on building a new life.

Although the community was tight, there were also troublemakers around. Or as you liked to think: “If there is a bar, there are bound to be assholes.”

You had worked in various restaurants and taverns already, and everywhere was the same. Given enough alcohol, some people would always turn nasty or cause trouble. Pyloon’s Saloon, your newest workplace, was no different. On most days, it was quiet and you could go about your day in peace. You’d either clean, help in the kitchen or serve drinks to customers, happy to help in whatever way possible to earn your keep.

Most people were extremely friendly, chatting easily with you. Your favourite guest was a certain Jedi, however, who came around far too scarcely for your liking. Cal Kestis, a friend of your boss, was often off-planet, fighting the Empire in some way. Sometimes he’d return to Koboh to recharge or to follow some other mission.

Whenever he did show up, your face brightened into a smile. The redhead was nothing but kind to you, making you laugh with his surprisingly dry and strange humor or telling you some stories about his latest adventures.

Sometimes, he’d also return beaten and battered and would sit patiently on a bar stool, while you took care of his injuries. There was a friendship between you, a bond that had formed so naturally and quickly that it often surprised you. Especially since you weren’t used to men showing any kind of interest.

You weren’t ugly, by any means! But you didn’t exactly have the figure most males were after. Certainly not handsome ones like Cal. You had always been chubby, even as a child, and eventually womanly curves got added to the mix. You liked yourself just fine, but sometimes you did wonder what it would be like to feel desired.

And on some days, you did wish you looked different. Days like this one, for example, where you were in charge of serving drinks again, while a small group of young men were playing Sabacc at a table, ordering far too much ale.

“Hey, Hutt-girl! Come and give us another round!”, one of them yelled, using one of the many insulting nicknames you had heard over the years. “And try to be quick, we are thirsty.”

You would have let it slide when suddenly a familiar voice spoke: “What did you call her?”

It was Cal! The music was so loud, you hadn’t even heard him enter the Saloon.

He was looking at the man, who had addressed you, his eyes narrowed, mouth tense. He was angry and his hand was itching to reach for his saber. But he had promised Greeze not to cause trouble of the Jedi kind in this place.

“Chill. It’s just a nickname. Hutt-girl doesn’t mind. I mean, look at her. She…”, the man slurred in Cal’s direction but didn’t get to continue, as the Jedi had quickly closed the distance and punched him straight in the face, knocking the fellow off his chair.

“Don’t call her that. She has a name.”, Cal spoke, voice icy.

The other men were instantly on their feet, though they looked unsure whether to fight or not. Cal wasn’t exactly unknown in these parts.

“Apologize to the lady.”, the Jedi demanded.

The group exchanged some looks, glancing back and forth between Cal, you, and their friend with a heavily bleeding nose. Without the alcohol, they might have taken the smart decision to follow Cal’s request. But too much ale made young men like these restless and rowdy, and a moment later one of them tried to take a swing at the Jedi.

He missed of course and Cal was quick to use his first to knock the attacker down. Within seconds, the thing escalated, all six young men attacking a single one. It wasn’t a fair fight, but Cal didn’t need help. He had dealt with much worse than troublesome drunks. Within five minutes, he was throwing the bunch out of the door, telling them to stay out.

“Thank you…”, you said, finally having found your voice again. “Cal… your lip…”

He had come out mostly unscathed, but one of the idiots had obviously landed a punch.

Cal wiped at the corner of his mouth with a thumb, noticing the blood. “No worries, I had worse.”, he replied casually, taking a seat at the bar.

“Let me get you something.”, you were quick to spring into action, grabbing a cool wet cloth for him.

“Do they often call you that?”, he asked, after you were done cleaning the busted lip. It really wasn’t as bad as it had looked at first glance.

“I’m used to it.”, you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But the truth was, such names hurt.

“You shouldn’t be.”, Cal spoke, voice quiet and thoughtful.

The words earned him a smile, as you took a seat on the stool next to him. With the group gone, the Saloon was quiet and you could spare some time.

“Cal, I’m not blind or naïve. I know why they come up with names like that.”, you tried to explain. “I am not exactly what many would consider beautiful.”

“You are beautiful to me.”

His reply had your heart stop for a moment, your voice getting caught in your throat. What? Had you heard that correctly?

Cal seemed to notice your shock and reached out to brush his fingers against your cheek.

“You really are, Y/N. Inside and out.”

You went from not hearing your heart at all to being certain that everyone on the planet could notice it beating wildly in your chest.

“Cal… I…”, you weren’t sure what to say. How did one respond to such beautiful words?

“Everytime I come here, I hope that you are working.”, the Jedi continued, saving you from your word loss dilemma. “I look forward to hearing you laugh, to see that smile again. Whenever I am hurt, I know that you will patch me back up. Physically and emotionally.”

His hand was still on your cheek, thumb gently stroking over your skin, flushed red due to a deepening blush.

“And as long as I am around, nobody has the right to hurt you in any way. I won’t allow it. Because you are special to me, Y/N.”

He had laid out his heart to you and although your throat still felt tight, it was only fair to show him the same honesty. Part of your mind screamed a warning, that this could end badly, but you tried to drown that voice out.

“You are also special to me, Cal.”, you began. “My day gets a hundred times better whenever you walk in… I love listening to your stories… hearing your jokes… I like when you are next to me.” Was this too much? Were you interpreting his words the wrong way and running headfirst into rejection? It was too late to reconsider now, as your feelings fought to break out.

“Whenever you come back hurt, my heart breaks a little. And all I want to do is see you healthy and happy again… I miss you when you are not here. Then I find myself thinking about you…”

You didn’t have a chance to continue, as suddenly Cal’s lips were on yours. Stars, he was truly kissing you! Without thinking about it, you kissed him back, one arm sneaking around his head to play with his hair, while the other grabbed his upper arm for support.

He groaned into the kiss, as it intensified, both of you getting lost in the moment. Far too quickly it had to end, as you both remembered that you needed to breathe.

“Sorry… I should have asked…” There it was again. That caring and considerate side of his.

“No, don’t apologize. It was perfect.”, you were quick to say. “And I definitely would have said yes, anyway.”

His lips curved into a grin. “Good. I’m glad.” And with that, he leaned in for another kiss, pulling you closer this time.

“Y/N! I need some help down here!” Greeze’s voice was coming from the kitchen, breaking the moment once again.

“I should go. Boss is calling.”, you said reluctantly.

“What time do you finish?”, Cal asked.

“In an hour or so.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

You knew he would be. And the thought alone brought a smile to your face. Who would have thought that such a shitty evening could have such a beautiful end? Or was it just a beautiful beginning?

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

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kate-embershield · 2 months

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Warm Hands, Silver Tongues

AKA ah FUCK i had a terrible idea and got invested.

Alternate title - The MC (Kate in this instance) said Fuck It and embraces godhood.

Sabine suffers, Garnok's an ass, Kate finds out she can make deals, Khaan's about to have a very rude awakening.

Also chock full of Headcannons

13K Words of Sabine regretting everything under the cut + A little explanation

This was originally spurred on by the idea of how Weirded Out the Dark Riders would be if/when they find out the MC is connected to Aideen, and then it took off into this.

I love writing characters who fully embrace their powers and just go apeshit, and i think the MC would be a really fun character for this, especially with the way we're able to interact with the Dark Riders. I know personally i play like i'll offend them if i say something rude, so whenever i'm given the choice, ill always try to go the 'Talk it Out' route, which, in the context of this little fic, translated to Kate being terrible at Godhood. She's simply too nice and if i ever expand on this, it'll be fun to see how the rest of the Dark Riders interact with her.

Please come scream at me about your thoughts and headcannons! I have so many stupid little scenes that branch off this idea that i've already written

⚞☼⚟

“Sabine”, the General relaxed under the fingers running over her shoulders as Kate softly pushed the ebony hair out of the way. “I found the problem”, her voice betrayed her calm demeanour, strained and shaky.

“What is it?”, she turned to the Druid, scared lip scowling as the blond focused on the magic coursing through the Dark Riders body.

It was quiet for a moment, Kate intent on rooting out the problem before Sabine’s patience ran out. “There’s a tether between you and Garnok”, she started, and the General raised a brow. “Every time your magic grows-”, brilliant white light pulsed through her veins, and Sabine stiffened under the warmth, so different from the fire coursing through her body, but similar all the same, “-every time you use your power, Garnok eats away a piece of you”

“What are you saying?”

“Garnok is killing you to survive”, Blue met Amber, and Kate froze at the horrified look in the woman's eyes, “Pandoria won’t hold him for long”

“We’re dying?”, Her voice was quiet, far away, eyes unfocused as she stared at nothing.

“Garnok’s using you, and the other Dark Riders, to sustain himself while he's trapped”, the light pulling at her veins pulsed brighter, filling the room with a soft glow. “He’s killing you all just to keep himself alive”

“I guess that's why no Generals survive for long”, the Rider hummed darkly.

The air was heavy, as the two sat, stagnant silence between them. Sabine stared at her boots as Kate shifted behind her. “I might be able to help”

“How?”, her voice was low, arms resting on her knees as she leant back. “We made a pact with a God. I don't think there's any coming back from that one”, her eyes were closed, lips pulled into a thin line.

“I’m-”, Kate started, but the words caught in her throat. “The Keepers and the Druids really wish I wasn't, I know Avalon hates it especially”, She shifted, stretching her legs out along the couch, muscles strained from the uncomfortable way she had sat. “Sometimes I wish I had stayed away too, but then I guess I wouldn't have had this much fun”

“Spit it out”, Sabine growled, arm thrown over her eyes.

“I’m Aideen”, Kate draped herself over the arm of the couch as Sabine turned to her with the speed of a whip.

“What!”, she roared, bent over the Druid, amber eyes bright and fiery.

“Well technically I'm her reincarnation, but-”, Kate stammered, lips twisting into an awkward smile as she shuffled back. “-I can use a lot of her abilities, her light. I'm kind of like a boost for the other circles-”

“Your Aideen!?”

“Aideen’s Reincarnation, yes-”

“Your a god!”

“Not officially!”, She managed to squirrel her way out of the Rider’s shadow, “But if Garnok can make deals, maybe I can too”

“Your-”, Sabine eyed her warily, but a faint sparkle of hope burned in her eyes. “You want me to make a deal with you?”

“Yes”, the Druid leapt to her feet, staring up at Sabine with hope. “I'll be honest, I don't really know how it works, But I’m like 76% sure I can make deals too”

“That-”, Sabine turned away for a moment, arms crossed and foot tapping, “-Doesn't fill me with confidence”

Kate leant over the couch, resting her chin on her arms as the Dark Rider paced. “If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work, but if it does…”

“If it works, what happens to Khaan?”, Kate turned to the wide window, and the barn sitting quiet, warm glow spilling from between the slats. “He’s bonded with General Malumi, not…me”

“He might be corrupted, but he’s still a Starbreed, both of you are still bonded, I can tell”, Sabine had stopped pacing, arms still crossed, but she followed the Druid’s gaze to the barn, face neutral, but eyes betraying the sadness she felt at the thought of her loyal beast in pain. “Besides, I’m Aideen, if I can help you, I can help him”

“I thought you were just her reincarnation”

“Potato Tomato”, Kate smiled up at the woman, hand outstretched and smiling wide. “What do you say? Care to make a deal with God?”

Sabine eyed the hand warily, “What do you want in return?”

“Oh, uhh”, The offered hand lowered, arm hanging limp as she hummed. It was quiet for a moment, and then Kate turned to her with a hard-set look in her eyes. “You and I know that the Keepers will destroy Jorvik if it means killing Garnok”, the resourceful diplomat had returned, and Sabine wondered just how frightening this woman could be when she was determined. “They’ll justify it as a necessary sin, they don't care what happens to the people as long as Garnok is eradicated”, for a woman laying limply over the back of a couch, Sabine was amazed at how frightening she could look. “I won’t let them, I can’t. Not when the people of this island have no say in it. I’ve made my life here, and I’ve grown attached, and I won’t let Dark Core or the Keepers destroy the world just so the other doesn’t get their way”, Sabine eyed her curiously, starting to piece together what Kate would ask. “Help me stop Garnok, and whatever power he’s given you, whatever he's taken from you, I promise it's all yours”, Sabine eyed the woman, something curious shining in her eyes. “And I'll help Khaan. Those are my terms”

“You would have helped Khaan regardless”, The Dark Rider raised a brow, and Kate smiled.

“I would have. Mortifa and Acerbus and Jay and Katja too, if they'll let me. But now it's written in stone”, She held out her hand again, veins burning white hot as she smiled a deceptively sweet smile, as if she wasn't a God about to tie herself to her enemies most trusted General, as if Sabine wasn't about to gamble her own life for the second time.

The General took the God's hand, and the world exploded in white hot stars. It burned, like flames eating at her skin, her bone. Fire had never bothered Sabine, not when she was its master, but this, it felt like dying. A bone deep pain that ripped through everything she was, flaying her very nerves and sending blinding bolts of light through her. The point where her calloused palms met Kate’s, that hurt the most, like pure electricity racing between their palms.

Sabine screamed. Agony was barely enough to describe what she was feeling. If this was dying, she didn’t want it.

And then it stopped. Just as quick as it had started. The pain simply vanished and Sabine was left kneeling on the floor, wood biting into her palms and jaw locked shut as she struggled to breath. Faintly, she could hear someone calling her name.

“Sabine!”, the Druid was kneeling next to her, deft fingers running down her spine as the woman shook. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it would hurt!”

The General turned to her weakly, head resting on the floor as static danced between the two. “I’m fine”, she knew the Druid didn’t believe her, if she focused enough on the little silvery thread coiled between them, she could tell that Kate was frowning, eyebrows pinched as Sabine lay still. But she couldn’t look at her, simply because she wasn’t corporal. She was hazy around the edges, eyes glowing and veins burning white, and if Sabine looked too hard, a headache would slowly start breaking her skull in two.

Briefly, as she rolled onto her back, she remembered the pain that laced through her for weeks after she had sold her soul to Garnok. There was none of that stabbing agony here, not when the fire burning through her had died down to a warm ember. It was nice, she thought, and for the first time since Garnok, Sabine found that the wildfire that lived in her veins had calmed. It didn't eat at her skin anymore, it just…burned, like a campfire content to its bed of warm coals.

She could hear the Druid calling her name, but ignored it in favor of the sleep that came easily now.

#13k words #sso #star stable #star stable online #sso sabine #sso mc #sso writing #I feel SO SORRY for Sabine #Imagine making a deal with the weird chick after finding out she's GOD #Kate panicking: WHERE'S MY HELMET! I LOST MY FUCKING HELMET!#Sabine in tears because this is the woman who owns her soul: It's on your HEAD

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fate-motif · 2 years

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b’elanna’s banana pancakes

hello tumblr. it’s been a while since i did some star trek meta. but i’ve just been on a prodigy kick lately and that inevitably brings me back to voyager where i’ve spent some time before unpacking a lot of writing decisions and politics surrounding them. today i want to talk about the most inane detail i could fixate on in b’elanna’s characterization, and this thought hasn’t left me in years so i think maybe i should share it with the class. maybe it will mean something to someone else the way it does to me.

b’elanna’s favorite comfort food is banana pancakes. when she’s feeling down she asks neelix to replicate them for her, and it’s kind of a running staple in moments where b’elanna is feeling emotionally vulnerable. it’s a cute detail, but over the years i’ve turned the detail over and over and wished, pointlessly, that i could somehow go back in time and edit that writing decision and change b’elanna’s favorite pickup meal to something else: fried plantain. if you’re not familiar with latin american cuisine, plantain are a common staple in a lot of dishes but i am specifically to ripe plantain, fried until it’s golden brown and caramelized. it goes by different names depending on the country but it’s a surprisingly widespread dish. there’s even equivalents in west african and southeast asian countries and if you haven’t tried it this is the friendliest recommendation to taste the food of the gods before the end of your life.

i’ll admit the context for this obsession is selfish. i’m latin american, specifically costa rican, and when i watched voyager i couldn’t help but latch on to roxann dawson’s portrayal of a broken, abandoned young woman who learns to love herself and accept the love of others in her life when given the nurturing and patience she deserved all along. this wasn’t just because her character is beautiful in its own right, but because i identified with her as a latin american woman. i could spend a good amount of time talking about the standards of womanhood that i was subjected to growing up latin american but this post is not about that, so i’m going to summarize one of the things that makes b’elanna so important to me as a female latin american character very briefly: it’s her emotional complexity and the compassion with which all her emotions, including the anger and the trauma, are treated while portrayed as a latina character. i wish more than anything i had grown up watching voyager for this specific reason, and now that i’ve actually watched it i feel like a piece of my puzzle has been filled in, and i’m a little closer to whole. which is why it’s all the more curious that b’elanna isn’t exactly written as a latin american character in the first place.

star trek is a very american franchise, written by very american writers, and, with some notable exceptions, very white, cishet, male writers. it’s been talked to death how star trek’s vision of a multicultural world becomes seriously impaired by the lack of diversity in its leading creatives. today i specifically want to address how the franchise has been since its inception, and still is, limiting its potential by how the american cultural zeitgeist dominates its development. it’s a specifically white american zeitgeist, too. the human world regardless of the ethnicity of its members gets steamrolled into a very colorblind world where apparently humans now pride ourselves on our acceptance and embracing of different nations but we are only ever shown cultural expressions consistent with the experiences of modern day white americans. it’s even clearer in the writing of characters of color, like harry kim or geordi laforge, over white non americans like miles o’brien or malcolm reed. there have been exceptions, most notably in the writing of sisko’s family, but for the most part characters of color are not ever shown engaging in any activities that might have been passed down from non white american heritage. this is true even for characters who aren’t even supposed to be american, like uhura who’s meant to be from kenya. it’s not just a disappointment to the core values that the franchise is meant to stand by but also a waste of writing potential and even a loss in what could be a way to connect to potential fans from all over the globe.

back to me, because this post was made because of the very selfish reason that feel like i just need b’elanna to connect a little bit more to me. to my upbringing. i call it selfish because it’s not as clean cut a writing decision as it i make it out to be. latin americans, diaspora or otherwise, are not a monolith even in the 21st century. john torres and his family show again the limitations the writers run into with their limited worldview and they don’t seem to hold on to latin american traditions or cultural heritage. and furthermore, b’elanna herself has mixed feelings on her klingon heritage already but that doesn’t mean that the heritage passed down by the father who abandoned her would be that much easier to embrace. and yet in my mind i can just see little b’elanna eagerly devouring slices of fried plantain made by her father on rare occasions and feeling so utterly loved after being starved so many times of his affection because he shared something with her about himself and made her feel cherished with it. and that nostalgia for that tiny spark of love she felt so many years ago being fanned and set ablaze when her new family learns how to cheer her up with this little gesture that recognizes her roots.

it wouldn’t exactly be an uncomplicated portrayal, it’s not like i want my favorite dish to be equated with deadbeat dads and their shitty racist against klingons families. but i’m just reminded of jacob geller’s discussion on bj blazkowicz’s jewish heritage in the recent wolfenstein video game series. “i just want some recognition that he’s connected to me.” it would mean the world to me, too.

#if you reblogged my essay on seven of nine and the price paid for perfection you’re obligated to reblog this one as well #star trek #star trek voyager #voy #fandom #b’elanna torres #latin american representation #voyager

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simslegacy5083 · 28 days

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NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 39: A Magical Wedding

Before they could get to their own “happily ever after” Hunter and Tess were attending Denton and Bridget’s wedding as an official couple.

The same strong family connections that let Denton secure the coveted magic realm entry park as his event venue had also forced him to invite his least favorite cousin. Hunter was on his best behavior, and Tess had promised to ensure that her boyfriend didn’t cause a scene or leave a mess.

That morning Tess had woken from a lovely dream of walking down the aisle herself. She wasn’t quite ready to get married, but she would be taking a first step by telling Toni and Manny she was dating their son. The couple planned to finally spill the beans at the wedding reception later that day.

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Luigi was still between partners romantically, but he’d found a great “plus 1” in his old friend Bonnie.

Her landlady had just accepted his application to rent a room in the boarding house where she lived, and he wanted to know all about his other soon to be roommates.

Bonnie had plenty of time to get him caught up on the latest gossip as they waited for the guests to find their seats and settle down.

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When it was time Luigi rose and kicked things off with the obligatory Sim of Honor march down the aisle.

As he made his way to the altar, he couldn’t help but consider his own future plans. Right now school was his top priority, but sooner or later he’d need to find some kind and loving sim who would help him create and raise his heir, without expecting him to sacrifice his professional goals.

Given his situation he only wished he felt as sure about that future child as he did about his hypothetical spouse. Love was exciting, a reward all on its own, but parenthood was a big, scary responsibility he wasn’t sure when he’d feel ready to pursue.

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The couple of the hour followed close behind Luigi, smiling and waving at the assembled guests. Bridget’s “issues” had kept her from securing a Sim of Honor herself, which had given Denton some flickers of doubt about their marriage. He pushed those reservations firmly aside now that the moment had arrived, and they stood ready to exchange their vows before his whole family under the beautiful moon drenched wedding arch.

He looked into the eyes of the gorgeous girl standing before him, who was working so hard to tame the uncalled-for outbursts of mean behavior she attributed to her evil nature. Sure, Bridget had her problems, but didn’t everyone? He spoke his vows boldly and smiled lovingly as she did the same.

As he hugged his new wife tight, he assured himself that with time and patience they’d build their happily ever after.

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View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

#sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims4 #sims 4 nsb #sims 4 not so berry #sims4nsbstraud #sims 4 let's play #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 lets play

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

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Misfit

Pairing(s): Daenerys Targaryen x Greyjoy!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, mentions of rape, dubcon, mentions of inc3st, trauma, healing, please do not read if you think you’ll be triggered by any of these warnings.

Words: 2439

Summary: Nightmares, your nightmares were filled with the blazing symbol of a kraken. As you travel with your siblings to Meereen you hope Queen Daenerys would be willing to help you in defeating Euron.

You lunge in your bed as the waves outside crashes against your sister’s massive ship; fingers twisting in your sheets while you draw in ragged breaths. Eyes darting about your cabin wildly for any sign of your terrible uncle. You knew though that he wouldn’t be there. You were far away from his grasp. The fact gave you little relief though, your heart still in a panic. A heavy film of sweat madde your hair stick limply to your face as you got up on unsteady feet. Legs wobbled uncontrollably and not because of the ship. A nightmare like that always rendered you of your mobility.

Dawn was barely emerging from the blanket of night when you managed to make it up on the deck. Even with the cold night air smattering against your soaked skin you still felt unbearably hot. A feverish kind of warmth that made you feel ill.

You padded off to one side of the ship and grasped tightly at the edge while leaning your face overboard.

Just the thought of him made you sick.

“They’ll start saying you’re sea sick if you keep it up.” Asha’s voice breaks over the sea. “What kind of Ironborn would you be if you were prone to seasickness.”

Body quivering as you wretch overboard, Asha’s hand rubs your back.

“I’m sorry (y/n). You’re away from him now.” She whispers to you. “Once we have Daenerys on our side, Euron will pay. “We’ll hang him by the neck. Not even the Drowned God will take him.”

With the back of your hand you wipe your mouth. “A nice sentiment Asha. That is if we can even talk to the Mother of Dragons before she feeds us to her children.” Asha laughs loudly. “Don’t worry about that. She’ll talk to us. I’ve heard she’s been trying to get to Westeros for years. This is her chance. She’d be a fool not to talk to us.” You always admired your older sister. Ever since childhood, Asha had consistently been so confident with herself. Undoubtedly she would’ve made a great queen. Her shipmates admired her as a captain and would go anywhere with and for her. Although they respected you too you lacked the authority that Asha had. You never had a ship of your own. Unlike everyone else on the Iron Isles you preferred to stay on land. Considered a disgrace by many it made you a sort of misfit. Even your father had been disappointed in you. You didn’t really care. You brushed him off and dreamed of a place filled with grass and trees. You partially envied Theon for being taken to Winterfell after the failure of the Greyjoy Rebellion. You wished it had been you. The Iron Isles were a cold place that possessed no love or affection. Asha had always been the one to give you any kind of warmth. She was always there to support you as an older sibling should. Your sister taught you how to wield a sword with a patience she showed no one else. When your father had given up on hopes of you having and fulling utilizing your own ship it was Asha who enticed you on board with stories of Westeros and other far off places. It was the only reason why you even learned how to conduct a ship; with hopes of sailing away from your dreary home. Asha never really did understand why you hated Pyke, but she always supported you and whatever made you happy.

“He’s never going to hurt you again (y/n). I’ll make sure of that. And you know I keep my promises.” She reminds you a little sternly.

You smile meekly and finally turn away from the side of the boat to face her. “I know. And I know you’ll talk Daenerys into joining us. You do have a way with convincing people to your view.”

Her grin is crooked. “C’mon. Lets get you back to bed. We should be reaching Meereen soon.”

Right, you had to try and get some rest. It had been so long though since you’d had a peaceful nights sleep. Even if you were so exhausted sleep never did come easy to you. It was like trying to grasp mist and keep it your captive in your hands.

When you closed your eyes that’s when you saw Euron the most…

Meereen was completely different from Pyke. Worlds apart from the salt air and fog filled island that you had grown up on. Sun hot on your sensitive skin making you perspire as you and your entourage set out from the docks and to the great, towering, pyramid where Daenerys Targaryen was. Many observed you with naked suspicion. Soldiers in odd looking helmets followed slowly off to the side, watching like hawks.

“Don’t let them intimidate you. I hear all of her soldiers have no dicks-” Asha pales slightly and quickly shoots wide eyes over to poor Theon. Hiss shoulders stiffen and his face turns down to the ground. “S-Sorry. . .”

He had been through so much under the tyranny of Ramsay Bolton. Even though you had been through your own horror you couldn’t possibly imagine all the things that Ramsay did to him. Theon had returned with less fingers as well as other body parts that left him timid and fearful. Not that you remembered much of him from before he left for Winterfell. You had been very young.

Word had already spread and gotten to the Queen of Meereen of the arrival of the Greyjoy fleet. The guards welcomed you with untrusting cordialness.

You were in awe of everything. You had only ever left Pyke with Asha years ago to go to the mainland for trading. You hadn’t had much time to look around before Asha ushered you back on the ship.

Statues of bare breasted women with wings instead of arms met you at every turn. Vicious and domineering as each one glared down at you and your siblings.

None of them compared to the Mother of Dragons herself. Even the dimness of the room where she accepted you couldn’t dampen her beauty. Of course you had heard that she was a great beauty, you thought all of the rumors had merely been hype. You were a fool to have assumed such things. You were never certain about your sexuality, but once you saw her you knew it was anything that involved Daenerys Targaryen.

What you weren’t expecting was the Lannister dwarf at her side. His focus was entirely on Theon. Such heat and furocity coming from someone so small. You wondered what had transpired between the two to make Tyrion Lannister glare at him with such animosity.

You stood on the other side of Asha, trying to perpetuate the strength and pride of House Greyjoy. Iron you tried to will your body to be. Iron like Asha. Resilient and strong against your enemies.

Against Daenerys? Well, you never had behaved much like a Greyjoy before. Why would now be any different.

Once Tyrion started berating your brother on how he acted last they saw one another you knew it would be a rocky conversation. Would the Half Man discourage Daenerys from such an alliance just because of the ass your brother was years ago? She seemed to trust his judgement since he was standing by her right side. Her right hand man. Somehow he had become her counselor. He could ruin everything. That would mean Euron. . .

You felt ill again.

If Daenerys wouldn’t help you defeat Euron. . .

Daenerys’ strong voice pipes in after Tyrion. “You’ve brought us a hundred ships from the Iron Fleet, with men to sail them. In return I suspect you want me to support you claim to the throne of the Iron Islands?” She was addressing Theon.

“Not my claim.” Theon corrects her. His head inclines toward Asha who stood between you and Theon. “Her’s.”

You had never seen someone with her color eyes. Such a rich, yet gentle, hue of lavender. They move from Theon then to Asha, quickly flicking toward you before going back to Theon. “What’s wrong with you?”

He hesitates and you inwardly cringe as he is once again reminded of what had been done to him at the hands of Ramsay. “I’m. . . I’m not fit to rule.”

“We can both agree on that at least.” Tyrion remarks.

There’s interest on Daenerys’ face. The thought of another queen. It could potentially put her own position at risk, you realize. Dread was clawing deep at your gut. You couldn’t help but feel the searing of your wrists; the remnants of the time spent under your uncle’s control. “Has the Iron Islands ever had a queen?”

Very briefly Asha glances at you. For anyone else it was nothing out of the ordinary. You and Asha knew though.

Asha purses her lips before answering smoothly “No more than Westeros.”

The Queen of Meereen smiles. That was a good sign, right? Theon thinks so as he continues calmly. “Our Uncle Euron returned after a long absence. He murdered our father. He took the Salt Throne from Asha. He took (y/n). . .” Theon pauses and uncertainly looks to you to see if it was okay. Shakingly you nod. It would come out eventually. You had to be brave like Asha. Be brave like Theon was trying to be. That was the very least you could do. “Took (y/n) as his bride. . . unwillingly. . . He would’ve murdered us all if we hadn’t left.”

You weren’t anticipating the immense amount of sympathy that the queen held for you. Her face softened and her true feelings bled through. “I’m sorry that happened to you. It must have been horrendous. . .”

For the first time you speak up. “I-It was. That is why we seek your help. I, seek your help. . .”

There’s a moment of silence, kept company by the furious beating of your heart that you hoped no one else could hear. Then Daenerys subtly turns to Tyrion. “Will their ships be enough?”

It would take a while for the queen to load everything onto your ships as well as the ones she had taken from the masters. Who the masters were, you didn’t entirely know and didn’t care. You were all too relieved when Daenerys accepted your alliance. So relieved that once you were alone you cried. For the first time in a long time you cried out of joy.

Daenerys had let you and your siblings stay in her great pyramid until they were done loading the things necessary to sail to Westeros.

You were grateful to actually take a bath. A large steaming pool at the base of the pyramid. Ancient figures and sculptures kept a look out for you as you lounged in the heated water. Never had you felt so at ease. Daenerys and her dragons would take down Euron in a heartbeat. You smile to yourself. He would pay for what he did to you.

(e/c) eyes shift to your naked body, the smile wilting. What he had done to you. . . His own niece. God knows you had tried to forget. How could someone forget such violent acts done to them though? Asha would’ve never let anything like that happen to her. She would’ve stuck a knife in his neck the moment he laid hands on her. You were gentle though. Always gentle. And that was your downfall. Your father had been right all along.

“For someone who has just succeeded in getting my help, you sure don’t look very happy.”

Jolting you quickly use your arm to cover your chest. “Your Gr-”

Oh boy. She was naked too. Gloriously naked. Her attendants helped her in and as they did she looked like some sort of mythical creature, much like her dragons. You tried not to stare. Tried to blame the steam and heat of the water for making you blush. You were still ever the gentle child that your father scolded you for being; even though you and Daenerys had to be around the same age.

Her smile is kind as her handmaids go about unbraiding her hair and letting it flow into the water. “Forgive me for startling you.”

“N-No forgiveness is needed, Your Grace. It is I who seeks it. I’ll leave.” You go to stand, aware that that would make you bare for her to see.

“No, please stay. I would like the company.” says Daenerys.

Still covering yourself with your arms you sit back down into the water. She had probably already seen the kraken shaped brand on your hip anyway. There was no hiding what Euron had done to you. It was different, her seeing it and Theon telling her what had happened.

“I truly am sorry for what your uncle has done to you. It’s despicable. He will pay for it, that I promise you.” She tells you earnestly. Her eyes are trained on the rippling of the water. You could tell she’s lost in thought. Perhaps a memory she was thinking back on. “No woman should have to go through that. I’ll make sure he never does it to anyone else again. I know giving your sister her Salt Throne won’t erase what has been done to you. Even killing Euron what take back what he did. But. . . I hope you can learn to move on from it. That you can let yourself live a happy life despite what has happened to you. You deserve that much and more.”

Your lost for words. All is caught in your throat.

The sound of water moving makes you look at Daenerys as she wades toward you. Once she’s in front of you she gently cups your cheek. Try as you may, your tears spill forward.

You would’ve flinched from such contact had it been anyone else. However your body melted into her touch.

Asha smiled gently at the scene and decided best to leave them alone. It had been quite a while since she had seen her sister so relaxed around another person. Euron had taken her sense of security. Even around Asha and Theon, (y/n) would still flinch if they accidentally touched her of if they moved in a way that looked like they were going to strike her.

Her fingers curl into her palm tightly at the thought of what Euron had done to (y/n). Violently shaking she stalks out of the pyramid of Meereen to get ready to sail back to Westeros.

#daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen fanfic #daenerys targaryen fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #got fanfic #reader insert #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #a song of ice and fire fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction

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