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is2katiemccard · 4 months

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ᅟᅟᅟ tolerate it | alessia russo x brazilian!reader, duda sampaio x brazilian!reader

Summary: Everyone goes through bad times in life, but some attitudes can end in mistakes and sometimes there is no way back.

[AN: I'm working on some requests but I couldn't stop thinking about this plot, so here it is! This will be a mini series with two other chapters, hope you like it <3]

ᅟ The last few months have been hell for Alessia. The first blow was the crisis that their secret relationship was facing.

ᅟ During the World Cup you, the English striker's girlfriend, were feeling very overwhelmed, after all, that would be the first time that you would play in that tournament for your national team. As if that wasn't already a huge weight on her shoulders, every day her coach made a point of repeating the same words to the team.

ᅟ “Are you really going to allow the queen of football to retire without a world title with the national team? I don't care if you're young, old or what, you need to give everything for her. Marta deserves this and I will not allow you to ruin this experience for her.”

ᅟ Pia Sundhage was an admirable and successful woman, but she definitely crossed some limits and the most serious thing was almost completely taking away the identity of the Brazilian team. It wasn't news to anyone that Brazil was known for its beautiful, passionate style of play, full of tricks and skills, but since the woman arrived as coach shortly after being eliminated in the 2019 World Cup, things have changed drastically.

ᅟ Despite being a young player, you already had your fair share of experiences at an international level as you left the club that formed you very young and followed Geyse, your colleague and best friend, out of Brazil. A few years passed and while the other girl shone in Spanish lands playing for Barcelona, you enjoyed the contrasting experience of living in London and playing for the red team in the north of the city.

ᅟ It was during one of Arsenal's games against United that you met Alessia and it's safe to say that from the first moment you found yourself in love with the girl with blue eyes and blonde hair. To your surprise, she also ended up really liking you and at the end of that match you exchanged t-shirts and a small note came with hers and contained your phone number and an invitation to dinner.

ᅟ The rest was history, and a story worthy of romance books, by the way, but little by little the whole situation began to fall apart and you seemed to be the only one interested in putting together and pasting all the pieces of your love. While you fought for her, Alessia didn't even recognize any gesture and just worried about her own life and career. She kept it a secret and made a point of hiding it in a trunk under lock and key. Not even your family and closest friends knew that you were a couple and that hurt, a lot.

ᅟ You begged the blonde for help not once, much less twice or three times but she just ignored your messages and calls with the excuse of being too busy preparing for the competition, which wasn't completely a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. While all this was happening and your condition was only getting worse, your teammates noticed how miserable you looked, but they couldn't understand why. It was only when Luana ran after you after a training session that they began to understand what you were going through and despite the help that the midfielder and all the other girls provided you, you never managed to fully recover as a huge part of your problems was your secret relationship.

ᅟ The trigger came at the final whistle in the game against Jamaica, making his biggest fear come true. Brazil was out of the World Cup in the group stage and your heart, which already had some cracks in it, broke in half once and for all. Your eyes roamed the stands hoping to find Alessia somewhere since she had promised she would be there for you, but your search for her was in vain. Without even realizing how it happened, you found yourself kneeling on the field with your face in the grass in front of Marta's boots, who was trying to comfort you while you cried profusely. All the cameras were on you and the Queen of football, knowing how sad and meaningful that image was.

ᅟ Tears were still flowing from your eyes like a waterfall when you felt a weight on your back and two strong arms pressed against your fragile body. All the other players, both Brazilian and Jamaican, gathered around you forming a large circle and sympathizing with the difficult time you were going through. It took some time, but you finally recovered enough to lift your head off the ground and face the older woman in front of you who was looking at you with teary eyes and you were about to break down again when Duda's low voice reached your ears and you body turned to face the girl who held you in her arms so carefully.

ᅟ Just like you, Duda was also part of the new generation of players, she currently played for the best team in the country, the same one that had revealed you to the world a few years ago. You had many things in common, but for some reason she seemed to avoid your presence, always choosing not to stay by your side for long and looking away from your direction. At first you thought she didn't like you, but Luana and some other colleagues assured you that it was just her shyness speaking louder, however, despite all that, she was the one by your side at that moment, looking at you with so much affection that your breath caught for a few moments. The brunette offered you a welcoming smile before extending her hand for you to hold and get up, but noticed how your legs shook when trying to do so and decided to take the action of picking you up and carrying you to the changing room.

ᅟ The more time passed, the harder it was to face reality. Little by little, the devastating sadness gave way to anger, and from anger, to revolt. The local atmosphere was hostile and heavy, each player was dealing with it in a different way, but they all had some thoughts in common, you could have done more, you should have done more. Even in the midst of that chaos, all the players' phones were exploding with messages and calls from family, friends and even players from other national teams who showed solidarity in that difficult time. Despite that, it took almost an entire day for Alessia to contact you and when she did, God, it was disastrous.

ᅟ It took some time, but you managed to convince the blonde to meet you in person in the hotel room where your team was staying.

ᅟ "What do you want from me? I have more important things to do than talk to you.” She said as soon as she reached her room, taking off the hood and glasses she wore as a disguise. Her words affected you more than you wanted to admit and after closing the door and making sure no one had seen the blonde enter your room, you walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. At that moment it became clear that you should get straight to the point with her, knowing that trying to stall would only make things worse.

ᅟ “Good night to you too, Alessia.” Your voice carried a certain irony and the coldness with which you treated her was unusual. “Since you are a very busy woman, I will get straight to the point. I can no longer stand the way you are treating me and I can't maintain our relationship if you continue like this. I know you're avoiding me and I can't understand why. We’ve always been open with each other and you’ve just signed for Arsenal, which I think should only improve our relationship, but you’re more distant than ever.”

ᅟ The striker seemed surprised by your words since you never liked conflicts or more serious conversations like this, and, despite knowing that you were right, she couldn't help but mock you, maintaining an air of superiority while crossing her arms over the chest.

ᅟ “How many times do I have to tell you that I need to focus on my career and the World Cup, hmm? I thought that by this point in the championship this would have become very clear.” You even tried to interrupt her to better explain your point of view, but she didn't even give a chance. “No, you already had your turn to speak, now it’s mine. And, what do you know, you're right, I really am avoiding you because I can't deal with your neediness anymore. Lately you've been so unbearable that I don't even feel like having a conversation with you. I’m a world-class striker, I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit and your problems.” God, how her words hurt. It was hard to believe that the girl in front of you who was putting on such a narcissistic show was the same one you had fallen in love with and loved madly.

ᅟ “Oh, now I understand. So what you want to tell me is that I have to be emotionally available to you in your worst moments just like I was when the United fans turned on you but you can't return the favor because you are a world class striker?” The temperature of that conversation was increasing quickly, as was your voice, which certainly caught the attention of your friends in the next rooms. “How selfish you are, Alessia. I can't believe you mean all this, what happened to you? When did you become so stupid and snobbish? Did winning the Euros get to your head that much? Because a fucking title doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m nothing or nobody.”

ᅟ “If by being a snob you mean I'm a realist, then yes, I'm a complete snob. Don't you notice the difference between us? I was instrumental in winning the Euros while you weren't even able to help your team get past the group stage of the World Cup. And don’t be fooled into thinking that I signed for Arsenal because of you and our relationship, I did it because it was best for my career and because your team needs a real player like me.” The tone of voice Alessia used was completely humiliating and the cruelty of her words was so much that it left you speechless. Your girlfriend knew how insecure you were feeling about this tournament and in addition to not helping you with that, she made sure to destroy you once and for all. The woman you loved did this to you, and you couldn't believe it.

ᅟ The expression on your face was one of pure pain and betrayal, your throat was dry and you didn't even know what to say while the blonde was still in front of you watching you with that air of superiority, but when you got up from the bed she was scared. Your body language screamed wrath and your eyes shone from the tears you refused to let go. It was at that moment that Alessia realized everything she had done to you and how much her attitude affected you. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach and the worst person in the world, but now it was too late.

ᅟ "We are over." Your sentence was said indifferently, as if you and the striker didn't have a history. “Get out of here. I don't want to see you ever again” It was obvious that you were containing your emotions, and, in order not to have to deal with them, you walked to the door of your room, coming face to face with Lelê, Geyse, Duda and Luana in the hallway. They had heard everything and were about to invade the room. You looked at them with panic, not knowing how much they had heard, but Alessia was still standing in the middle of the room, shocked by her own actions. “I TOLD YOU TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” Your scream was powerful and disturbing like a thunderclap and broke the British woman out of the trance she was in.

ᅟ She had never seen you like that. At the same time that you looked so fragile her body was filled with anger and she knew it was better to do what you said. She left the room slowly, startled by the presence of her teammates who were already there and noticing the arrival of others. Despite this, she had the audacity to try to approach you and say something, but Letícia, Luana and Geyse took a step forward while Duda pulled you away from it. The attacker seemed to want to insist on that, but the goalkeeper blocked her path. Letícia and Alessia were the same height, but the brunette's physical condition made her more threatening and firm like a brick wall. Fortunately her presence was enough for the lioness to give up on her plan and leave in a hurry, like a coward.

ᅟ Only when her silhouette disappeared behind the elevator doors did you allow yourself to give in, running back to the bedroom and, later, to the bathroom, where you barely had time to lift the toilet lid before throwing up. A few seconds later you smelled Duda's perfume around you and her hand on your back, trying to comfort you just like she had done a few days ago. You had no idea what her level of English was and how much she had heard and understood of the conversation, but regardless, she was there, by your side, again.

ᅟ You could hear Luana's voice, imagining that she must be explaining the whole situation to the other girls who arrived after the commotion in the hallway and as you thought about how horrible that situation was, you realized that in a short time you and your ex-girlfriend would play together on the same team. Suddenly the nausea was back and you felt everything spinning around you. Little by little you got better and finally came out of the bathroom, seeing all your teammates crammed into the room and ready to welcome you into their arms.

ᅟ It took a few hours and a lot of explanation on your part, but eventually everyone understood the situation and shared the same anger as you. They were all worried about what would happen in the future since you two are Arsenal players and would see each other every day in a matter of a few weeks, and that worried you too, but it was after a few minutes in silence that Tamires made a suggestion that made your eyes shine.

ᅟ Soon you, the blonde and Duda were in front of the door of Cris Gambaré's room, the director of women's football at Corinthians who was helping the Brazilian coaching staff. When she finally answered, the three of you smiled slightly and the woman took a deep breath, knowing that she had a problem to solve.

BREAKING NEWS: Arsenal midfield star Y/F/N will go on loan to Corinthians, the club that revealed her to the world. The team was surprised by the request, but accepted after some insistence from the player. She must leave for Brazil immediately and will return to Arsenal as soon as the South American season comes to an end in December.

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rosemaryblossomworld · 3 months

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First Blood (ch.1)

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎!𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚜 𝚅𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈/𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢....𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕?

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝟷𝟾 , 𝙰𝚞!𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝙳, 𝚁𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙰𝚞, 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍!

𝙰/𝚗: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍...

Red Castle was the most dangerous place in the Kingslands. Why? For centuries, the land had been ruled by the most ancient and noble race of vampires! Nothing can break them. Strong...fast...immortal. And they have dragons to serve them.

Men feared and revered them. The Targaryen bloodline gave rise to many rumours and gossip. People whispered about them, their purity of blood and sacrifice.

Every three months, balls were organised for the Targaryen children to find partners.

But every time these partners "disappeared", everyone knew exactly how it happened, but were afraid to say it out loud. Servants, people from the upper classes, ordinary travellers disappeared.

Today was the 6th moon of the winter festival (Christmas). The weather was hot, uncharacteristic of the Kingslands. And on the 15th day of the sixth moon, the lords of the various houses began to receive an invitation from the Queen for a feast. Many considered this letter a "black mark".

This time the black mark fell on the house of Y/l/n, the lord's wife wept bitterly and clutched to her bosom, the youngest Lady of the house, who was beating hysterically. Lord Y/l/n looked gloomily at the letter and reread it over and over again.

"Daddy! Don't give me away, they'll kill me! Please!" young Sanda couldn't imagine that her comfortable days were coming to an end.

"Be quiet Sanda! You've been chosen, but that doesn't mean you can fall to the eyes of Jacaerys," the man muttered.

"Our Sanda is the most beautiful girl in the Kingdom Lands! She could match the Maiden herself! Everyone knows it, and the Queen and her children have found out. Of course she'll want the most beautiful girl in Westeros standing next to her son!" said Lady t/f hysterically.

"Don't get in the way Darlene! I'm thinking!" the man glanced sullenly at the letter again.

He threw a glance at his youngest daughter, now he saw before him a pathetic woman who thought everything would be decided at the wave of a hand. If it didn't involve the Targaryen family, then yes, Lord Y/l/n needed to wave his hand and all of his daughter's problems disappeared.

At that moment the eldest daughter of the family, Y/n, entered the room quietly, she was carrying a small cart with tea and cakes, a quiet and calm girl. She was a bastard. So in the house she was on the level of a servant. The girl was a little taken aback when she heard the pitiful howls of her sister and stepmother. But continued to arrange the cups on the table, pouring flavoured tea from the south.

The girl squinted at the letter in her father's hand and then looked at him, he was already looking at her.

"Interesting?" the gears in the lord's head began to move gradually.

"I dare not," Y/n answered hastily.

"Sanda has been chosen as a candidate to be the 'princess' of Jacaerys," the man sighed and threw a letter on the table.

Y/n looked at her younger sister, who was almost choking on her tears. The girl no longer saw the upstart she had been a few minutes ago when she bullied her. A nasty and caustic thought crept into Y/n's mind that made her want to chuckle. The lord felt it.

"Don't gloat! Lousy girl! Instead of Sanda, you're going to the ball. If Prince Jacaerys doesn't look at you, you're lucky, if he does, I'll give it to him," the lord smirked and looked at the shocked Y/n carefully. The cries of the stepmother and sister fell silent.

"What?" whispered the girl quietly, in that instant she was overcome with anger and sadness.

"Honey, you're a genius! How did we not guess it right away!?" immediately cheered the stepmother.

"Daddy! You're the best!" squealed Sanda and ran into her father's arms.

"The queen might get angry... "Y/n hurried to say.

"She won't be too angry if I tell her that the youngest daughter is seriously ill," the man sniggered.

"She can ask Sanda to attend the next ball, and the next, and the next, and so on ad infinitum!" raised her voice to the older mistress. The lord frowned.

"How dare you cross me!? You ignorant wench! You should be grateful that I took you in. It's time to repay our kindness. The ball will be in two days, so you will be moved to another room. Go!" shrieked the man, he knew perfectly well that his eldest daughter was right. But he didn't want to think about it in front of his wife and youngest daughter, lest he make a fool of himself.

The lord followed the girl's eyes as she looked at him with anger, once again those eyes were reminiscent of the eyes of the witch he had spent the night with. That woman had been beautiful. He had promised to make her his wife and take her out of this poverty. But he had not kept his promise, leaving that one in poverty. As he was packing up and leaving her decrepit home, the dark-haired woman whispered just one phrase: "My daughter will be the ruin of your family." The man laughed. He still laughs now because he looks at Y/n, at this unassuming and defenceless girl, and thinks: "And what can she do?"

Two days passed in preparation. For the first time, Y/n was treated like a queen, washed, fed, and dressed in her finest clothes. The stepmother and younger sister had gone to another estate to maintain the legend of the ailing younger mistress.

On the day of the festival a beautiful dress was sent to Y/n's room, it was red like blood, a black veil and gold jewellery completed the look. The maids carefully put the dress on her, did her hair and then left, leaving Y/n alone. The girl looked at herself and wanted to cry. To cry with happiness that she was wearing such expensive and nice clothes, and with grief that it was an unnecessary spectacle.

The girl wasn't allowed to be sad for long, she was called downstairs to go to the festival.

Y/n and her father stood opposite the queen, who towered majestically over them. Beside her stood her husband, Daemon Targaryen, a vicious prince and the most scandalous person in the kingdom. His two daughters stood beside him, Rhaena had only recently 'lost' her lover, while Baela still had a partner, but the betting was already underway as to when she would start looking for a groom.

Of course, there were rumours that Baela and Jacaerys were to be betrothed, but to this day, they remained free. Jacaerys stood proudly beside his mother, he didn't look at them, his head held high. Lucerys and Joffrey were nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew that Joffrey had not yet reached the age when the power of the ancient family was awakened. And Lucerys just didn't like the event, and the queen thought he was young in his choice of mate.

" I asked you, Lord Y/l/n, where is your youngest daughter?" the queen asked sternly, but every time she shifted her gaze to the young Y/n, her look softened.

"My youngest daughter is seriously ill! She came down with a fever a couple of days ago, the symptoms are terrible, and she's only getting worse," the man lied.

"But who is there with you?" she asked more calmly.

"Oh, it's my eldest daughter. She didn't want you to be angry, so she decided to personally volunteer to soothe your anger," the girl's father nudged her slightly.

"Your majesty," Y/n bowed.

Jacaerys, who had been standing bored when he heard the soft voice that roused his "dead" body, turned his attention to the sound. At the bottom of the steps stood the most beautiful girl he had ever seen at a ball. Soft facial features, a beautiful stance and a slight smile, he felt a hum in his ears, and before his gaze was only her. Was this what his mum had been talking about? "The eternal bond?" That's her, isn't it?

Sensing her son's change, Rhaenyra looked at her boy and then shifted her gaze to the girl. The woman smiled and hummed.

"Good, I see your point, that's very noble of you, enjoy the festival," the queen waved her hand and Lord Y/l/n hurriedly disappeared from the woman's gaze, fetching his eldest daughter.

"You can do whatever you want now. Dance, eat, drink, if any of the heirs come up to you to talk then speak, don't embarrass me," the lord walked away, leaving Y/n completely alone in an unknown environment.

After thinking for a while, Y/n skirted down the corridor and then onto one of the castle's balconies. The view was magnificent: the harbour, the ships, the sun setting on the horizon. This view was not comparable to what the girl saw at her place, in fact she had no windows in her room. It was always dark and cold.

She covered her eyes but immediately opened them as soon as she felt a strange smell, it was sweet and juicy, as if there was a sweet fruit in front of her eyes that she wanted to bite. She turned round and her heart stopped beating. Jackairis Velarion stood before her.

"May I join your silence, my lady?" he asked, slowly approaching.

" yes, of course," the girl said quietly.

She looked straight into the guy's eyes, they were brown, but...she could also see red reflections in them that appeared and disappeared.

"Why did you leave?" he enquired to get rid of the awkward silence.

"I'm not used to being at events like this. I'm nervous, to be honest," the girl grinned and leaned her hands relaxedly on the stone railing of the balcony.

"I understand, my lady, I get tired of them too. That's why my little brother rarely attends them. But my sisters just love the fun and the noise. They're dancing in the hall right now," he smiled, and Y/n was embarrassed.

"You...I... " Y/n tried to think of a topic of conversation, but nothing came to mind.

The prince chuckled. He couldn't look at the girl in red, in his head they had lived for several thousand years, they had five...no! seven...no! ten children.

"I didn't ask your name," the guy mentioned.

"My name is Y/n Y/l/n, Lord Y/l/n's eldest daughter," the girl bowed.

"Your little sister...she's not sick, is she?" he asked immediately and he could hear the girl's heart beating fast.

"She...no...she's just," the lady tried to come to her senses and think of something.

"Look at me," the prince reached out to Y/n and lifted her chin.

Y/n looked at the prince and froze, her ears popped, her breathing became quiet and steady, her eyes were covered by a bright veil from behind which she saw the prince's red eyes.

"Tell me the truth. Where is your sister?" he ran his hand gently down the girl's cheek.

"She has gone with her stepmother to the second estate. She is not ill, but shocked by the letter the queen sent. I am her replacement. I didn't want to come here, I was forced," the girl said in a cold tone, Y/n wanted to scream but couldn't, she didn't want to say it! What's going on!!!?

"Don't be afraid Y/n, I won't hurt you. You are under my spell, it's what our kind can do. We can make a person tell the truth or, we can command them to do an order, for example: my love, take my hand and press it to your chest," the prince uttered the last phrase, he didn't really mean to say 'to your chest', if his blood flowed like a normal person, his lady could see his red face.

Y/n felt the heat come up to her cheeks. This was exciting! She took the prince's other hand and pressed it against her chest, where her heart beat.

"Like this. Your heart is beating fast. Are you scared?" Jace lifted his hand higher.

"I'm excited... "the girl whispered softly.

"Are you afraid I'll bite you? I won't do that unless you ask me to," the prince moved closer.

"I don't want you to kill me," for a moment all feeling came back to the girl and she tried to break free, but the Prince's grip tightened and he soaked her again.

"What if I told you I don't want to kill you. I want you to be my partner, my princess and future queen," he whispered the words into the girl's lips.

"I don't believe you," just as monotonously.

"Then, I'll do my best to make you believe. Let me kiss you, just one kiss as proof," the pair's lips almost touched, but Y/n didn't respond.

He grinned and nestled his lips against the girl's soft lips. Immediately the buzzing in her ears disappeared, her vision and breathing normalised again, but Y/n didn't pull away, only pressed herself closer to the prince. Again that smell that was driving the girl crazy.

He touched the girl's lips gently and weightlessly, sucking on her upper and lower lips. Then, opening his mouth slightly, he ran his tongue along the girl's lower lip. Y/n immediately opened her mouth, letting the young man's hurried tongue in. The kiss constantly changed its pace, then slow, then fast, then careless. The girl knew the feeling for the first time, something warm in her lower belly and flowing down into her underwear.

He growled into the kiss, feeling the girl's wonderful ambrosia, that sweet smell starting to swirl around them. The Prince is afraid that his kin can smell it too, and they will try to steal his Maiden, out of his own hands. Jace clasped the girl tighter. He continued to entwine his tongue with his lady's, growling and whimpering slightly, the scent growing brighter and brighter. Now Jace's heat was centred down his stomach as well.

Y/n began to feel her head spinning, these emotions and this scent...where did it come from? So pleasant, sweet and spicy, wanting to inhale and inhale. The girl moaned at the prince's touch. Is it his charms? Or is it her true feelings? So shameful, but...she wants more, she wants what the maids whisper about in the manor, she wants what they teach in the Silk Streets. She pressed herself against the prince and...darkness fell.

The girl opened her eyes sharply and realised that she was in the room where she had been living for the last two days in her family estate. She jumped up from the bed and looked around. The sun was shining brightly and illuminating the room.

"Mistress, you woke up just in time," a maid named Martina, walked over to the elder mistress' bed and placed a few things on the chair next to it.

"What happened? Where is father?" her voice was slightly hoarse and the girl hurriedly drank a glass of water that was on a table nearby.

"Ser Jakor brought you in yesterday. You fainted at the ball. And your father is in his study now and wants to see you after breakfast," the maid said calmly.

Y/n was dressed in a light white dress with open shoulders. Breakfast was light, the way a girl likes it.

After breakfast, Ser Jakor escorted the girl to the lord's study. He knocked and announced the arrival of his daughter. There was a muffled sound, "let her in." And the knight opened the door.

"Why did you want to see me?" went straight to the subject Y/n.

"Did you communicate with the eldest prince yesterday?" asked the Lord, still staring at the papers in front of him.

Y/n felt her face begin to burn. Has he seen us? Does he know about this? What to do!!!

"Yes," the girl said quickly.

"Jakor, hand it over," the man pushed a black envelope towards the knight.

Once the envelope was handed over, Y/n looked at it closely. It was an unusual black envelope with drawings of flowers, the letter had been opened, most likely the lord had decided to see who it was from, because the envelope bore the name of the eldest lady of House Y/l/n, though it was barely visible. But the girl looked at the Targaryen family crest on the gold seal, the girl's heart sank, she pulled out the envelope and read a few lines. Queen Rhaenyra wrote and demanded a meeting with Y/n Y/l/n, at the end there was only one phrase: You are the perfect candidate.

"I don't know how long the queen will keep you, but I have ordered the maids to gather some of your wardrobe. You will be sent to Red Castle, we can't keep the Queen waiting!" the man finally looked at his daughter.

"Father..." the girl began.

"I don't care what happens to you. Your fate is essentially sealed. That's the way it should be, Y/n, you were a mistake and fate presented me with a chance to get rid of her," the man spoke coldly.

"What if they let me go?" the girl asked, looking angrily at her father again.

"This will be a great disappointment. But I'll take you back, you'll live here as before. Now get on your way. The queen wanted to share a meal with you," waved the lord and burrowed into the papers again.

Y/n sighed and left the room. She was filled with a thousand emotions. It was scary and exciting at the same time, she would meet the prince again, but...she already knew what she would be to him.

With heavy thoughts, the girl walked down to the ground floor. She watched her things being loaded. Y/n took one last look at Y/n's estate, smiled sadly, and got into the carriage. Her fate was now in someone else's hands.

Ps: I'm not good at writing intimate scenes...well...I think the second chapter will take a long time to come out because I want to write it right. In a way that's breathtaking.

#house of the dragon #hotd #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys strong #jacaerys x you #x reader

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corpsebasil · 1 year

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The Second Son 18+ parte uno

When the Queen of Ravka is widowed and her place on the throne is challenged, the second son must find a way to be there for her.

Y/N pressed her head against the tomb-stone, closing her eyes against the sheer weight that was resting on her shoulders. She’d grown thinner and seemed to drain of color the past few weeks, dealing with daily state meetings, funeral preparations, and planning.

Just last night she’d been yelled at in a meeting, told that she would be forced to step down due to her lack of a son to pass the throne to. Nikolai Lantsov, the man that was technically her brother in law, had thrown a glass about three inches shy of the man’s head, shattering it against the wall.

The message was loud and clear: don’t disrespect Y/N, or Nikolai will deal with it.

He was there now, at the wake, his hand resting carefully on one shoulder as silent tear’s ran down the girl’s face. He had no idea how to truly comfort her—how to comprehend that sort of loss. Vasily had died, died somehow in his sleep, and instead of being sympathetic the members of court had accused her of killing him, had blamed her for her lack of a child, and had utterly abandoned her when she needed them most.

“I’m here for you, you know that.” Nikolai murmured, running his hand along her back. She sniffed and glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes red and cheeks tear-stained.

“It feels like—” her voice caught and he crouched on the ground beside her, looping his arm around her back. “like I’ve lost everything. My husband, my dignity, any friends.” She shook her head, eyebrows pulling together as her pretty face began to crumple. “I have nothing left, Nikolai.”

“You have me.” He assured his queen and, damn the onlookers, he pulled her into him, holding her as close as he dared as she wept against his chest.

The next few months were torture for Nikolai.

It felt like nothing was good enough, nothing could help her. It amazed him that she managed to get herself out of bed, her miserable gaze growing cold and steely when accusations or criticism were thrown her way. She went to every meeting. Deflected every harsh phrase. And Nikolai had to watch as the woman that had always been so full of life, the woman he’d known since they were teenagers, slowly turned into a shard of ice.

“Y/N,” he called, following after her down the hall one afternoon. Her handmaidens, carefully selected by Y/N herself, all fixed him with territorial gleams in their eyes as he approached. “what do you think of a walk in the gardens?”

“She is busy, Sobachka.” One of the girls practically sneered, looking down her nose at him.

“If she wishes to walk in the gardens,” another argued, looking at her fellow maiden. “then she can with us. We will keep her safe, prince.” She smiled at Nikolai, almost sympathetically, as Y/N’s cool stare found his own.

But whatever she saw on his face had her own eyes softening, and she laid a hand on the girl that had practically hissed at him’s shoulder.

“Easy, Marian.” Y/N sighed, then nodded to the other girl. The third was still silent, peering over the queen’s shoulder with an almost childlike shyness. “Delia, Anika, will you please visit the dogs in the kennels? I hear a new batch of puppies was born and I’d like to hear if they’re worth the company.”

The shy one, Anika, immediately lit up, grasping the other two girl’s hands and rushing away, the three laughing as they raced. Nikolai had never seen such whimsical behavior in his court; it warmed him momentarily, only until the one named Marian shot him a look that promised a horrifying death if anything happened to her queen.

“My handmaidens,” Y/N mused, watching as they linked arms and began skipping as they rounded a corner. “are quite energetic. But they keep me sane.” She sighed, turning back to Nikolai, and tilted her head to the side in a ridiculously adorable way that had Nikolai feeling strangely flustered. “They are also trained killers. Wolf in sheep’s clothing, if you will.”

“How um—” Nikolai cleared his throat, nodding his head towards the garden. “How lovely. I do think that Marian wanted me dead on the spot.”

“She’s my cousin.” Y/N admitted, surprising Nikolai. “She came all the way from our northern cities to be at my side during this time.”

“I like her already.” Nikolai said, offering her his arm. “I’m a bit scared of her, but I like her.”

Her laugh stunned him enough that he shot her an incredulous look, one he quickly wiped off his face when she looped her arm through his own. How she could even smile with what she was going through was beyond him. But he saw the darkness under her eyes; he could see the way she seemed to sink down into herself, like she had a permanent exhaustion wrapping around her.

They moved throughout the hallway, passing into the gardens, the sweet smell of flowers floating along the air. Y/N let go of Nikolai to kneel by a rose bush, inhaling deeply. She seemed calmer, now. Less tired. She tipped her face back into the sunlight and closed her eyes, and Nikolai’s heart almost stopped.

He’d seen her do that same gesture about a hundred times but now, watching her that afternoon, she seemed more radiant than ever.

“You look—” he started, then stopped. Her eyes cut to his, wide and gorgeous, and he wasn’t sure why his chest had grown tight. “beautiful.”

Something in her face changed, a subtle twitch of the mouth, but she seemed to straighten, a sheen of delight appearing slowly in those captivating eyes of hers.

“Thank the Saints someone thinks so.” She said, laughing half-heartedly, and turned back to her flowers.

“I’m sorry about Vasily.” Nikolai blurted, his heart rate speeding. Saints where was this coming from? “I know you loved him and—”

She startled him by cackling, a surprisingly witchy sounding laugh that sent the hairs on the nape of his neck on end. He stared, borderline stunned, as she covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes twinkling at the prince.

“What?” She gasped, fighting off her laughter. She glanced around to make sure no one was around and, almost conspiratorially, whispered to him, “I hated that bastard. He was an arrogant son of a—”

“But you—you cried. At his funeral.”

“I might not have cared for him but he was still my husband.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Then she took in his stunned expression and frowned slightly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I promise I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He only shook his head, but was unable to stop himself from leaning a bit into her touch. The wicked gleam in her eyes told him enough: she would’ve like to be the one that killed him.

“You wanted children, though?” He offered, moving a step closer, and was met by a rush of warmth when she made no move to back away. “You—you always told me you wanted…you told the court that you’d tried—”

Her expression darkened and she turned away, striding a few steps before turning back.

“The people of court know nothing about my desire for children, or how much I wanted to be a mother.” Nikolai was horrified to see tears beginning to form in his queen’s eyes. “They don’t know about my—” she wiped a hand over her face and gave him an agonized look. “he wouldn’t touch me. I couldn’t tell anyone. How am I to be blamed for being childless when he wouldn’t lay a single hand on me—"

“He what?” Nikolai interrupted, startled. The fact that his brother had never bedded her, hadn’t wanted to, was a fact that made absolutely no sense to him. He’d felt a stab of burning jealously in his chest when she’d said she’d tried to have children, and had chalked it up to fertility issues. “Not once?”

“He kissed me on our wedding day. During the ceremony. That was the last time.”

He only stared, briefly winded, and moved towards her. That she didn’t move away gave him courage, not even when he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her a look so filled with longing it took her breath away.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and didn’t move when she leaned closer into him. “If I would’ve known—I knew you wanted to be a mother. I would’ve liked you to have had that, at least.”

She nodded, eyes sad, and she surprised him by hugging him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He didn’t hesitate to hold her, breathing in her flowery scent, as she pressed her face against him.

“I won’t let go of my dreams.” She whispered, fingers clutching him tighter. “I will find a good man, a man who truly loves me, and we’ll have a family together. And I’ll be at peace, knowing I’ve gotten what I’ve always wanted.”

His arms seemed to loop around her further and she closed her eyes, absorbing his warmth the best she could. This was Nikolai, one of her closest friends, the boy that had teased her and played pranks on her throughout their youth. This was the boy that had once snuck her away to a village festival had spun her around so fast during a dance she was afraid she’d puke.

The boy who, during her wedding, had rose in the middle of the ceremony and left, a barely suppressed sob catching in her throat as she watched him leave. And now he was running a hand over her hair, his face dangerously close to her own, as she pulled back to look at him.

“I need time.” She told him, voice quiet, as she looked up. “I need time but—but if you care for me…in any way I might feel about you, then maybe..” she swallowed, glancing away. “I would’ve liked it to be you.” She admitted, and he could hardly hear her words over his pounding heart. “I never wanted him. It was always—” she couldn’t finish, her grip on him tightening, and he simply laid a kiss against the top of her head, a smile on his handsome face.

“However long you need,” he said, sliding a hand up to her cheek to pull her eyes to his. “I’m here. Always.”

The months seemed to fly by. Months of spending almost every second with one another; every morning, as a tradition, they had breakfast together. They took walks together, and horse rides, and he took her to see shows and slowly, slowly, she came back to herself. She became giddy at the sight of him, at his smiling face and his kind words.

Even Marian, the coldest of her handmaidens, took a liking to Nikolai. She annihilated him when they played cards, to his dismay, but even her steely, protective cousin began demanding when they could all see the prince again. And then came the night after he and Y/N had gotten a bit drunk, laughing and dancing around her rooms.

“This is not queenly behavior,” he laughed, watching as she twirled around and around, her crown tossed carelessly on a couch.

“I’m still a girl, Nik.” She grinned, flouncing towards him, and took his hands, forcing him to dance with her. “Come on, you lazy bastard. Dance with me.”

He laughed aloud, tugging her into him and, so fast he didn’t know what he was even doing, he dropped a kiss down onto her mouth. She froze in his grip, expression sobering as she pulled back, and he instantly regretted the decision.

“I’m sorry, I—” he felt panicked, watching as she stared at him so calculatingly he was sure he had made a gigantic fool of himself. “I didn’t mean to I just—”

But then she was lunging for him, practically tackling him over as she kissed him hard, with everything she had, and he tugged her roughly against him. A pretty moaning noise left her mouth when he lifted her, wrapping her legs around him as he moved to her bedroom.

“Nikolai,” she breathed, pulling back for only half a second to look at him. “please I—”

“Anything you want.” He murmured, kissing her again, before dropping her down on her bed. She immediately shoved him onto his back, straddling his hips, pressing as close to him as she could when he tugged her mouth back to his own.

It felt desperate, ridiculously so, this inevitable joining. He practically ripped her dress off as she tugged at his belt, her face flushed and hair tousled. Then she gasped as he slipped his hand between her legs, running the calloused fingers across her center, then inside.

Her head dropped to his shoulder as she keened out his name, feeling every single curl and thrust of his fingers into her. And gods, he was good. Especially when he rolled her onto her back, tugging off the rest of her clothing, and moved down between her legs.

Her head was spinning. Spinning, as his tongue dipped inside her and then dragged up, his hand still working her as best as he could. She clutched at him, anything she could hold on to, her face so warm she thought she was on fire.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he mumbled against her, barely intruding the fog that had swarmed within her mind. “not yet.”

“That’s—” her breathing was ragged through the intensity of the pleasure. This had never been done to the queen before—never—and she was having trouble focusing on his words at all. “I want to make you—“

“Next time.” He promised, and with a particularly hard lick against her, his fingers curling to brush against that certain spot that made her head spin, she came, shaking so hard she had to grip him with both hands in order not to jolt away.

Then she laid spent, chest rising and falling at a rapid clip as he moved beside her, his lips pressing against her neck in slow, soft kisses.

“I want you to…do more with me.” She said, turning her head to face his. Lord, he didn’t even have sex with her and he looked completely fucked out. Her stomach dropped at the sight and her face warmed further.

“Later.” He swore again, bringing her mouth to his, then brushing his tongue against her own. “I want to make love to you until you can’t think of anyone else.”

“I never have.” She said, swallowing nervously. “Never anyone else.”

He ran his fingers across her cheek, smiling softly.

“You have no idea how much I care about you.” He breathed and then added, almost as an afterthought, “Your Majesty.”

“Oh hush.” She scoffed, climbing over him to straddle him once again.

They kissed long into the night, her fingers in his hair, a bruising grip from him on her hips. And then later, though not too long later, he’d tugged her up over his head, forcing her to grip the headboard as he licked at her until she broke again.

hi I feel jealous and also unhinged

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #wattpad #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #six of crows #smut #sturmhond smut #sturmhond the sassy biotch #sturmhond x reader

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danibee33 · 10 days

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The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 5: Leap

knight!simon riley x queen!reader

cw: dark themes, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, *read at your own discretion* take care of yourselves & know that the world is better to have you in it🫶🏻

word count: 3.6k

[<<<chapter 4]

It’s quiet, when you step out onto your balcony. Peaceful. Finally.

The days had come and gone, three, to be exact- after Johnny and Simon had become privy to the king’s violence towards you. And, much to your chagrin, they didn’t seem to believe when you told them you would be fine, that these things happen, and you are not naive enough to believe that they would have never happened to you at some point.

It is a woman’s place in the world, after all, to serve her father, her lords, her husband, her king. Even a queen does not see any favor in this regard, at least not in a way that matters, no, not to you-

”Do you pity me, Ser Simon?”

Your question stumps him for a moment, as he watches you closely, following three paces behind you- no more, no less. He’s watched you stroll through the stables like this, nodding your head so politely, greeting the hands and lords, alike, with a kind smile.

And ever so often, you’ll peek over your shoulder- though, he doesn’t imagine a world where you could possibly think he wouldn’t be there when you cast your fleeting glances.

But pity you? No.. he only pities the king isn’t here right now, so that he could show the man how it feels to have a much stronger hand wrapped around his puny neck-

The thought brings a sneer to his face, one he’s glad you cannot see.

“No, My Queen.”

You stop in front of Johnny’s horse, a tall, leggy beast; his color such a deep chestnut, it almost looks red in the sunlight, save for a perfect white blaze that runs from his forelock to his muzzle-

“I suppose I should be grateful.” You hum with amusement, though your expression is anything but, “Some of us get a taste on our wedding night, hm.. At least I got a few years of peace. If you can call it that-”

He reaches forward without thought, a large, black clad hand coming down tenderly to rest on your forearm,

“Don’t say that-”

A quiet clatter from just outside reminds him of how unduly this might look, how familiar he’s let himself get with you. Simon’s never been one for physical touch, but the small, terribly chaste moments have only grown in abundance. A graze of your hand here, or a brushing of your shoulder there.

He just can’t seem to be close enough to you, and he loathes himself for it-

You watch him step back to a respectable distance before he continues speaking lowly, close enough for you to hear, but far enough to excuse if anyone were to see; you think about how sweetly the tickle of his breath might feel against your skin, and his next words do nothing to chase those thoughts,

“No one deserves that, least of all, you, My Queen.” It’s so hard to keep your eyes forward, your hands feel too idle, your body far too wired, too aware of his proximity, “When a man touches a woman, it should never be out of anger, it should never be to cause pain, or inspire fear.”

His tone dips into a growl at the end, one that causes a deep shiver to creep up your spine and your hair to raise on end,

“No.. Do not be grateful for that- a man’s touch should be kind and gentle, it is a man’s duty to protect and reassure, to give comfort, and pleasure.”

That same shiver turns impossibly hot now, your skin prickling with such a deep-seated desire to know exactly what he means, to know the implications that were implied. But, you could not know, and you know he couldn’t give that to you, try as he might. You wouldn’t let him.

His words ring in your head now, just as loud as they did hours ago. Painfully clear and repetitive, the feelings they brought with it wrapping you in a shroud, one that you can’t quite decide if you like or not- because you can’t tell if it brings you a sense of caring, or if it just reminds you how alone you are in this situation.

But when every direction you look in feels wrong, like a dead end, how else are you suppose to feel? What else can you do?

The winds pick up for a moment as you stare out over the gardens, bringing with it a thick wave of petrichor; the storm moving close enough to scent the air and fill the sky with brilliant flashes of lightning in the distance.

How fitting..

This is good, no one will be out, and the rain will come soon enough to wash you clean of your sins-

Maybe a part of you will stay here with the gardens. You did always enjoy when your mother’s maids would tell their enthralling tales of ghastly apparitions, of the souls who either chose not, or could not, move on to the afterlife- so they stay behind to haunt amongst the living.

The gardens were your solace in life, so perhaps you could find peace in them again- if you could not move on. Or perhaps, your soul might find its way home, where you can watch over your sweet Johnny, see your family grow old.

Poor Johnny.. He’ll be so heartbroken..

Sharp nails dig into the skin of your palms as you scolding your own traitorous thoughts. That’s not what you needed right now, not when you must be resolute and sure. Yes, he will be heartbroken, but he will be alive, he will live out his days just as you made him promise.

And he had promised to go home today, promised to settle the matter of his inheritance and speak with his father- though, it was surely not a one-sided promise. Johnny had only, reluctantly, mounted his horse after you also promised to come visit in two weeks time, just long enough for you to make preparations.

You hated lying to him, you really did, every second of it made you feel ill to your stomach- but, he’s gone, on his way home, safe.

But Simon..

He is standing his post right now, right there. Exactly where he should be. You could go to him, you could demand he take off his helmet so that you may finally, finally see his face, so that he could be the last thing you see before you go-

No, you could never demand something like that of him. What ever reasons he has for hiding his face are his own.. and what would you do if he did remove it, anyway?

Would you ask for a kiss? Or, just that he hold you, truly hold you, just one time-

You can’t help but to smile at your own innocent foolishness; a kiss? To be held? What silly whims..

You did write him a letter, too. And it was difficult, trying to articulate the feelings you have for him, for this man you’ve never seen, this man who by every right, you should not feel anything for- but, you wanted to try.

Because you hope, maybe, that your words will give him some comfort. You don’t want him to feel guilty, or like it might have been his fault- and you have a feeling not many people have expressed such things to a Ghost..

A quiet laugh erupts from your chest then, followed by a choked sort of sound, wet and syrupy and thick in your throat at the terrible, awful idea that one day you might be ghosts together. Right back in the gardens, walking among the fragrant flowers and tall hedges, you might find each other again-

With that thought, and a deep, shaky breath, you lift the skirt of your nightgown and step up onto the lower stone surrounding, lifting your legs up and over the intricate railing one at a time. A hearty gust of wind whips your hair back and forth, and you gasp as you truly take in just how high off the ground you are, your hands gripping the iron beneath them with every bit of strength you have to muster.

But, you don’t feel scared.

You feel an odd rush of excitement, no, that’s not right- it’s far more nuanced than that. And perhaps, it’s just that this is undoubtedly the most reckless and thrilling thing you’ve ever done. The small taste of freedom intoxicating, having rarely, if ever, made a single decision for yourself that was selfish in every facet.

It is a shame, you think, that it took so long. And what if, you don’t do this? Will this confidence still be here tomorrow? Or days from now? Months, when your king is back-

No, no.. don’t do that.

You feel the softest splash of a raindrop on your cheek, then another, more after that. It’s still unseasonably warm out, making the cool liquid feel refreshing against your feverish skin, and the stormy breeze a reprieve.

But, if it all feels so wonderful, like a child again, simply playing in the rain, why do you feel the salty heat of tears mixing with the raindrops?

And why can’t you tell if they’re out of sadness, or relief, or some horrific mixture of the two?

“My Queen.”

At the sound of his voice, the droplets no longer feel good or refreshing, and the wind does not help the burning in your skin because the heat has been replaced with an icy dread. He was not suppose to be here, he shouldn’t have left his post, there couldn’t have been a good reason to, and you told him, you made it very clear that you were not to be disturbed tonight-

“My Queen, don’t move. Let me-”

“No.”

You still haven’t turned to look at him, you can’t, not if you wish to keep the resolve you’ve forged. Because you know, one look at those damned eyes and you would crumble at his feet.

“Go back to your post, Ser Simon.”

He steps closer as you speak, the sound his movements muffled by your voice, and the now howling winds that blow wildly around you. This is something he never imagined to see, not now, and certainly not when you had left him outside your chambers door.

He knew you were grieving seeing Johnny go- no matter the forced smiles, he knew your expressions, he could read you like a book. But, this..

Once again he finds himself internally cursing his own ineptitudes because how could he make the same mistake again? How could he not see that he let a monster into your room and locked you in with it.

“Come down, and I will.”

You bark out a laugh, your fingers growing fatigued and your legs beginning to tremble as you hold on,

“Do not forget your place, good Ser.. You do not command me, and I have no patience for your bargaining.”

The words feel like the most bitter of poisons on your tongue, but you ground them out anyway. If you could just push him away, if you could make him go- then you can finish this. You can save him, save him from yourself, and the stain you would leave on his name, his very life.

“You’re right.. I’m sorry, My Queen. But, please-”

Simon can feel the edges of his nerves fraying in every direction as he speaks that one helpless plea, his knees feel weaker than ever before, his fingers twitch and clench together, longing desperately to reach for you- to pull you away from danger, pull you into his arms, and never let you go because he cannot lose you. Not when he’s only just found you. And certainly not like this.

He would drop to his knees and vow all over again, vow on his life, that he will make you see how worthy you are to be in this world, and that it is the world that is not worthy of you. But, he’s also seen this before, seen good soldiers lose battles that are quiet, invisible to everyone around them. Hells, he’s been to the depths of his own mind, and it nearly saw the end of him-

“No, Simon.” Your voice is surprisingly confident and steeled as you squint against the rain, your nightgown clinging to your goose pimpled skin and your hair stuck in thick strands across your face, “I do not want you to be here. I relieve you of this responsibility- and please know, that this is of no fault of your own. You are good, and kind, and you have been-”

A small sob wracks through you, knowing that you are just prolonging the inevitable, knowing that all you are doing now is subjecting him to your own unguided anguish.

So, so selfish.. He will be better without you-

“Look at me,” He calls out your name, and you almost give in, almost.

“No. NO. I cannot do that, and you know I can’t. I can’t live like this, but if I stay, or if I run, people I love will be hurt- and I cannot see that happen. I cannot live my life in fear of my husband’s hand. I do not want to be his plaything, or his broodmare, but I have nothing else! This is all I was ever meant to be- it’s all I’ve never known, but you can’t possibly understand.”

Slowly, you pry one hand open, and that thrilling rush of terror and anticipation floods you again, the ground below doesn’t look so far away now, and the gardens are right there, a pretty view-

”I’m so sorry.”

“No! LOOK. AT. ME!”

Something in his voice, in the unwavering, undeniable authority and desperation makes your head turn without permission. Through the mist and shadows, you see his familiar armor glinting in the sparse, pale rays of moonlight that have fought their way through the clouds. But, that’s not what makes your eyes widen, and your jaw to go slack.

It’s his helmet hanging loosely from the tips of his fingers, his face- his face- bared to you, dark hair matting to his forehead under the weight of the water, amber eyes intense and focused,

“Simon..”

You blink in surprise when he thrusts the helm towards you suddenly, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he all but glares back at you, and gods, you wish you could just see him better- see the soft angle of his nose in proper lighting, and the dark scar that runs across the bridge of it,

“Take it. It is yours now.” He demands, stepping close enough for you to reach for it if you choose, “I swore my life to you, and I meant it, every word. To defend you from harm or threat.”

One more step.

“To obey your commands. To defend your honor and your name. To counsel if requested, and remain silent and steadfast at your side otherwise. To never wed, take no land, and father no children.”

Again, he pushes it closer, looking down at it with anger and fondness before looking back up to you; and the most errant thought crosses your mind of how many people he’s ever actually had to cast his eyes upward for,

“My life is yours, My Queen. I.. am yours.”

No. No. You can’t, and you shouldn’t- and yet, your hand reaches forward, your fingers shaking, and your cheeks so covered with tears that you don’t know where they stop and the rain begins.

The steel is cold and wet, and you hardly feel the weight of it at all as you stare down at the angular cutouts for his eyes, wide and sharp; the raised crest that runs vertically from the peak of his face shield to the very back. You’ve always thought his armor to be such a beautiful amalgamation of elegant lines and aggressive angles, which seeing his face now, you can see how it matches him so perfectly-

A very unladylike shriek parts your lips the moment your fingers find purchase, Simon using your hold on his helmet to jerk you forward, and in the blink of an eye, a strong arm loops around your waist as he pulls you up and over the railing,

“Simon! No!”

But, it’s too late, and his hold on you is too strong. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel angry, or out of spite- quite the opposite, in fact. While his arms are unmovable, he has you clutched to his chest with an arm around your torso and one supporting your legs as he carries you into the dry warmth of your rooms, helmet long forgotten on the cold stone outside.

��You can’t-”

He sets you on your feet, but his hands don’t stray far- and now that you’ve lost your height advantage you’re left in awe at how large he looms over you, holding your arms before he’s yanking the soaked gloves off between his teeth,

“I can.” Simon growls, placing a wide palm on either side of your face, calloused thumbs gently wiping the rain and tears away, “Go on, little queen, tell me what I can’t do, and I’ll show you exactly what I will.”

Your lip quivers pathetically as you look up at him, “He will kill us for this..”

You have no doubts of this, it is one of the many reasons why you wanted to leap from that balcony, so that you did not have to live this insidious façade anymore- because you couldn’t, you couldn’t have Simon at your side and not have these thoughts, these feelings, insatiable and unquenchable. And to know he could possibly feel the same-

“The king’s head would fall before he ever laid another hand on you.”

The air around you itself seems to grow hot and heady at his words, at the minuscule distance between his lips and yours; lips that are scarred and flushed a deep pink, so beautifully offset from his pale skin,

“You’re a mad man.” You whisper.

And, oh, the way those lips pull into a smile you have longed to see- his eyes crinkling around the edges. It is not a handsome smile, no. It is willful and amused, and broad, and wonderful, as a laugh rumbles through him,

“Now that, My Queen, I am..”

But maybe it is you who are the mad one, or it could still be the adrenaline pumping through your system, hazing your mind and your inhibitions, or that now prevailing desire to simply make decisions for yourself- to be selfish.

Either way, you’re the one who leans forward, wrapping your arms around his neck in order to pull yourself up enough to crush your lips against his. To finally feel everything you’ve dreamt of, the wonders you’ve fantasized, all of them centered around your guard, your dark knight. And here he is, right at your fingertips, his mouth moving so naturally, so perfectly in sync with yours.

Kissing Simon is unlike anything you ever felt with your King, it is reverent and gradual, like he wants to learn you, to know you intrinsically, intimately, to worship you first and foremost- the way his hands hold you so tenderly, his fingers tangling in your mess of wet hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss slowly and thoroughly.

But, too soon, he pulls away; sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as if to savor just the taste of you, his eyes darker than you think you’ve ever seen, and your name spoken like a quiet prayer, begging you to relent, pleading for you to keep him a honorable man- as honorable as a man like him can be.

“Please, My Queen..”

You look up at him again, his hands still holding your face as you lean away, letting your own hands slide over the sleek surface of his spaulders all the way down to hold his wrists, feeling his skin hot and damp under yours,

“You’ve felt the same things?” You ask meekly, ashamed of your own lack of self-esteem.

Simon tilts his head to the side, eyes darting back and forth with not only disbelief, but concern and wonder, another smile tugging up the left corner of his mouth. It’s softer this time, one that only serves to make you melt further into him as he speaks,

“Yeah, sweet girl, I have. I hadn’t felt anything for a long, long time before I met you. Got to know you from afar, got to see the way you treat those around you even when they don’t deserve it-”

He leans down to press his forehead to yours,

“You called me good, and kind, but I couldn’t disagree more. Because it’s only for you. You showed me what humanity can be, you gave me hope in what I’ve fought for my whole life, since I was old enough to wield a sword. I’ve won wars for old wretches, and young bastards, who’ve never even seen the soil on a battlefield..”

You hang on to his every word, relishing in his thick accent, memorizing every sound to his voice because you don’t think he’s ever spoken so much in one sitting,

“But you.. little queen, have given me a hope I thought was long lost. A hope for somethin’ more, a reason for the atrocities committed at my hand.”

He kisses you this time, it’s quick and soft, but somehow even better than the first one, somehow you feel more behind it, you feel so much of him that it steals the breath from your lungs,

“I’m goin’ to get you out of here. I swear it.”

thank you for being here 🥹

[chapter 6>>>]

#fic: the queens guard #medieval au #cod mw2 #but make it medieval #i swoon for them #this one’s dark #call of duty #simon x reader #knight!ghost #im down horrendously bad for this man #simon ghost riley #i can just hear the way he says my queen and it ruins me every time #simon riley x reader #reader is the queen #and i love her #also on ao3

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cxsmiicc · 6 months

Text

her little devil - lady lesso x reader

happy halloween yall idk wym im totally not 20 minutes late posting this shush

warnings - smut, orgasm denial, eating out, light fingering, vibrator, possessive lesso, halloween party

posted on ao3 also <3

2.2k words

-----

You picked at your chosen costume, suddenly doubting if it was the right one. The red latex clung to you in ways you were unused to and growing insecure of, neckline dipping far lower than you would usually wear and skirt stopping mid thigh. More than a little alcohol had gone into this decision. Well, too late to change now. Grabbing the headband with horns attached, you slammed out of your room before you lost your nerve, smoothing your hair around the cheap plastic as you walked down to the party. Clarissa and her damn parties, ever since the schools had merged it seemed like there was one every other week. And she just had to have the wonderful idea for a costume party, as though you didn’t have enough on your plate with classes and grading and her.

You banished those thoughts to the back of your mind, you had a party to attend after all. Of course whether or not you wanted to was a different matter, you would much rather spend tonight hiding away with a bottle and a vibrator. If you could escape early that could still work, it all depended on how fast Clarissa could corner you into taking drink after drink. For all she preached about good deeds that woman could coerce anyone into doing damn near anything with minimal effort.

Swinging the door open, you spotted her immediately. She was facing you, gesturing for you to join her and whoever it was she was talking to the second you were visible. The mystery woman turned around and your mouth fell open in shock. Lady. Fucking. Lesso. Her hair was straightened and dyed black for the night and there was a drip of blood decorating either corner of her mouth. She smirked at your reaction to her outfit and fangs became visible, successfully creating a fiery heat between your thighs. It only became worse as your eyes slid downwards to the generous amount of skin on show, matching your own outfit in everything but length. Where your dress was short and flared hers was long and fitted, flowing down and accentuating her every curve before pooling on the ground. Breaking yourself out of the haze, you made your way over to the two of them, first smiling at Clarissa before turning your attention to your boss.

“A vampire? Very appropriate Red, if I can even say that with you looking like this.”

“Seems like I should call you that tonight. Even I didn’t think to be quite so on the nose with my costume. The Evil history teacher, dressed as the devil? Somewhat obvious, don’t you think Clarissa?”

The blonde could only stare at the two of you and giggle, already too tipsy to care about pretending she couldn’t sense the tension between you and her fellow dean.

Rolling your eyes at the state of her, you turned back to Lesso to keep the conversation going, “So, what gives with you putting in effort tonight? Call me crazy but you don’t exactly strike me as the type to go all out for a work party.”

“Maybe I just felt like dressing up,” she spun where she stood, giving you a glimpse of the low back of her dress and sending a wave of arousal crashing through you, “My reasons are none of your business, though you seem to be enjoying it just the same.” A wicked grin graced her features, red lips quirking upwards as her eyes flitted across your body. “I must admit, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Oh? Careful Lesso, that almost sounded like a compliment. Wouldn’t want the ice queen to show emotion now would we.”

She laughed at you, low and slow and right in your ear. Right when you didn’t think it was possible to be any more turned on by this woman and she goes and does it.

“Ice queen… now that would’ve been a good costume idea.”

“Ah ah, what happened to not wanting to be too on the nose.” It was your turn to smirk as she registered what you just said, eyes darkening with what you would swear was lust if you didn’t know who you were talking to. All of a sudden you felt a tear on your costume and she was forcing you out of the room before you even knew what was happening, one hand firmly on your hip and the other on your shoulder. Everything was a blur as she guided you all the way back to your room, flashing her finger at the door to open it before you collided with the ageing wood. It was only to fling you down on the bed that she finally let go, pacing the empty space on your floor and offering no explanation for what she had just done.

“Care to tell me what that was all about?”

Rather than answering, she just stopped her pacing and crashed her bloodstained lips to yours, kissing you with a desperation you didn’t think her capable of. Just as quickly as she had started it, she pulled away, both hands buried in her hair as she resumed her pacing.

“Do you even know what you do to me.” Her voice came out low and gravelly, sending another spike to your core at both the tone and her words. “Always prancing around the school in those little outfits, it was driving me insane knowing I couldn’t just tear them off and have my way with you. And then tonight, oh tonight,” You stood, drawing closer to her as she kept ranting, too caught up in what she was saying to pay you much attention. “You thought you could just waltz into that party with that much skin on show with no consequences?” She grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the wall above your head before tracing a hand down your torso. “That teeny tiny costume, oh so low cut with a skirt that barely covers your ass. Latex? Not your best idea, my little devil.” Keeping her hold on your hands, she slid a nail down the ripped neckline of your outfit, successfully exposing your breasts to her. “It all would’ve been fine, had it not been for your wardrobe malfunction. Only I get to see that much of you, are we clear?”

All you could do was moan in response as she lavished attention on your chest, drinking in the sight of you half bare and entirely at her mercy.

“I said, are we clear.”

“Mmm, we’re clear, we're clear.”

“We’re clear mommy.”

“Yes mommy, you’re the only one allowed to see me like this.”

“Good, now help me take the rest of this off. Latex is a bitch to sweat in, and I'm guessing someone’s more than a little bit worked up right about now.”

She released her hold on your wrists and you dropped your arms, allowing her to peel the dress off of you and discard it on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your black underwear and horned headband.

“I want to see you, please?”

“Of course, go lay down for me and I’ll be right there.”

Rushing back over to the bed, you lay on your back and craned your neck to get the best possible view as she dropped her dress to the ground and walked over with a sway of her hips that only darkened the visible mark on your panties. She wasted no time in straddling you and pulling you into another bruising kiss, swiping her tongue along the seam of your lips and gaining the access she wanted right away. It was everything you expected of her, rough and selfish while still showing enough care to keep you enthralled as her tongue swept through your mouth, swallowing each others moans as she rolled her hips across your stomach, leaving a trail of arousal in her wake. The pressure of her on top of you was almost too much as she maintained both the force of the kiss and the motion of her hips, groaning whenever her clit hit your skin. Your hands were buried in her hair, ruining the sleekness she had worked so hard for earlier that evening but now couldn’t care less about, not when the thing she had craved for so long was finally happening. She pulled away and you whined and attempted to pull her back in, earning a glare from the older woman as she slipped down the bed until her head was between your thighs. Lighting her finger once more to vanish your underwear, she began kissing down your thighs, slowly drawing closer to where you wanted her the most.

“Please…” you let out.

“Please what?”

Please eat me out, please mommy.”

“Anything baby.”

Her tongue ran across your entrance and you gasped at the sensation, eyes falling closed and the sound morphing into a groan as she reached your clit. She nipped at the sensitive spot and you saw stars for a moment, the sinful moans leaving your lips only spurring her on. Focusing on your entrance, she kissed and teased at the flesh, dragging sounds you had never heard yourself make before from the base of your throat. Dipping her tongue into you, your back arched off the bed as she picked up the pace, plunging it in and out as your breath came in short puffs of air, most of which were immediately used up on the truly barbaric sounds you were making now. Your walls clenched around her as you reached the edge, spouting gibberish in an attempt to convey how close you were, only for her to retract her tongue and go back to marking your inner thighs. Whimpering in confusion, you opened your eyes to find her staring at you, lips still moving slowly against your skin. Pulling away, she licked the taste of you from her mouth before speaking.

“You really thought it’d be that easy? That you could wear that little outfit, tease me like that, and still get to cum?” The look in her eyes was dangerous, almost predatory.

You looked away, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Look at me,” she grabbed your chin, balancing herself by planting her other hand on your thigh. “If you can’t take it, don’t act like such a brat.” Leaning back onto her heels, she pulled you up with her, forcing you against the headboard when you were upright, mirroring her position and sitting on your own heels.

“Hands on the bed.”

The same glow that usually emanated from her finger this time came from her eyes, conjuring thick swathes of silk and binding your hands to the bed. Scanning the room for a moment, her eyes settled on something on your nightstand and she smiled, leaning over you painfully slowly to grab it. Hand wrapped around her prize, she went back to sitting opposite you, close but not quite touching.

“Now, just what do we have here?” Her hand unclenched to reveal your vibrator, the original plan for tonight before everything went sideways. “Is this what you were planning on doing after the party? Putting in an appearance and then sneaking off to touch yourself? And here I thought you were better than that.” She poised the toy over her entrance, fingers hovering over the settings. “Eyes on me love.”

Pushing it in with a groan, she started it on a lower setting and let her hands roam her upper body, stopping at her chest to tease her nipples, plucking at the bars going through them and successfully causing you to drip onto the sheets. One hand dropped down to turn up the intensity before immediately resuming rolling her piercings between her fingertips, letting every little sound fall from her open mouth, the blood long since smeared across your face and legs. Violet eyes bored into yours during her entire display, the colour barely visible around her blown pupils. The bed shook as she turned it up one final time, rocking her hips for more friction as she reached her peak, eye contact finally breaking as her head fell back and she released a wicked moan that had you writhing against the bonds, aching to feel something, anything other than the soft fabric of the bedsheets. She tipped her head back down, eying you hungrily.

Voice lower than usual she said, “Go on, say whatever it is you’re thinking.”

The sight of her using your vibrator, the thing that had been inside you oh so many times now inside of her, had triggered some need inside of you that you didn’t know you had. Everything about what she had just done was driving you wild with need, as she could so plainly see by the wet patch on the bed beneath you.

“Please mommy, please touch me I need you gods just please.” Your voice came out far higher than you were expecting it to, barely less than a whine. “I won’t do it again, you’ll be the only one allowed to see that much of me.”

“Damn right.”

She advanced, two fingers easily slipping into your dripping cunt and lips muffling your gasp. The binds stayed around your wrists, rendering you putty in her grasp.

#lady lesso #leonora lesso #the school for good and evil #sge #clarissa dovey #lady lesso x reader #halloween #halloween party #halloween smut #god tags r hard #losing my mind go read kaz's fic its such a serve #woo spooky season

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deathc-re · 1 year

Text

Lemme take you home ; Shuri

warnings: wakanda forever spoilers, smut, tension, cursing, drinking, implied smoking, afab and fem presenting reader, ooc shuri but whatever. i actually tried to add some plot to this, yk have some shame but not too much bc who has time for that

wc: 1.2k

an: not my best and kinda rushed but i needed to get something out for this marvel of a woman. anyway tblr fucked up the quality of the edit, which is by @vsppuirem on tiktok

you walked into the party looking through the crowd. your friend had told you she was by the balcony but didn't specify which one in this massive house. it was a birthday party for one of those officials kids, so of course it was a block party meant to last well into the morning hours.your friend, hawa, ever the extrovert happened to be friends with said officials kid and forced you, ever the ambivert, to come as well. though you enjoyed a nice night in, why not shake some ass on a rich kids dining table?

wandering into the crowd you searched for your hawa's brightly colored wig but with no luck. with a sigh you walked over to the kitchen turned bar and looked at the kid in an apron.

"what can i get for you?" he asked, tossing a red solo into the trash.

"two shots please!" you yelled over the music.

he scoffed, "starting off the night strong huh?"

you leaned against the other side of the counter, cleavage in full view, and smiled at him.

"something like that."

quickly he pour you your shots and busied himself on the other side of the kitchen. you giggled and downed your shots, screwing your face as the burning liquid slid down your throat.

"is that who i think it is! you shoulda called!" hawa yelled behind you, throwing an arm on your shoulder.

"i did."

"oh."

you rolled your eyes and let her pull you through the crowd. leaving the bustling crowd behind, hawa brought you to a quieter section at the front of the house.

"hawa! your back!" exclaimed a girl sprawled out on a couch, head resting on the lap of a boy who seemed a little too out of it.

"and you brought a friend." you looked over to a chair on the wall of this little space and your heart almost dropped to your feet. it was princess- queen shuri in all her glory.

a glass of what seemed to be whiskey in her hand, moving in circles as her eyes trailed you. you swallowed your nerves and nodded towards the group, sitting down next to hawa.

"so," the girl on the couch started," who are you?"

"oh!" you chuckled. "i'm y/n, hawa's friend from primary school."

"wow, you've known each other a while. i'm nana, this is hasan and i'm sure you know who that is." she nodded toward shuri.

"yeah," you breathed, " it's nice to meet you all. especially you your highness."

"oh please, call me shuri. it's a party isn't it?" she sat back in her chair, placing her glass of whiskey on her upper thigh. your eyes were locked but oh how you wanted to let them roam.

you've had the biggest crush on the queen since you could remember. she was just a year older than you and lord has the crush matured as she has. those sharp features, those piercing eyes and lord those hands.

"of course...shuri." she smiled at you and took a sip of her drink, finally taking her eyes away from yours.

the group then fell into comfortable conversation but you could barely pay any attention. all you could think about was the queen right across from you, legs spread, arms crossed, with a bored look on her face. with every move she made it felt like a tighter grip around your airway. you never thought you'd get to meet her yet here you are, barely two feet away. and she's eyeing you like she wants to eat you alive.

"uh, i think i'm gonna go get myself a drink," you said, hoping to get a little bit of air.

"that's a great idea, i needed a refill anyway," shuri said, standing up and grabbing her now empty glass.

lovely, you thought.

the two of you made your way towards the bar, a not so comfortable silence around you.

"y'know," she started, "i hope my staring isn't making you uncomfortable. i just can't seem to take my eyes off you."

you chuckled and looked at her over your shoulder, "i could say the same to you shuri. i'm honored to see your beauty up close."

she was silent, and you thought you'd offended her some how until you felt slender fingers wrap around your wrist. you looked back, confusion written on your face, only for her to lean close to your ear.

"i can't take this anymore. let's just forget the drinks and you follow me, yeah?" the feeling of her breath on your ear, the urgency in her voice, the tight grasp on your wrist. you swallowed thickly and nodded.

it was a blur up until this point but now you were face to face with the queen of your country and you've never been more aware of how you're feeling. she leaned against the door and locked it, slowly, sensually. she was staring but didn't move an inch. almost as if she was waiting, or scared.

wordlessly you hopped up onto the counter, mini dress riding up to expose perfect thighs. like that she was between your legs, soft lips crashing into yours like waves on a beach. your hands found their way to her jaw, her hands found their way to your waist. the two of you moved in sync. needy for something, anything that let you be ever closer to one another. reluctantly you pulled apart with a huff, lungs stinging and core aching.

"take those off." shuri commanded, eyes locked onto your exposed lace. the twinkle in her eye made you resist a moan. without shame, you shimmed out of your underwear and tossed it towards the sink. she let out a shaky breath then looked up at you with a cocky smile. grabbing hold of your ankles she pulled you to the very edge of the counter and squatted down.

you weren’t prepared for how quickly she dived into your cunt. tongue taking a large sweep, drinking up all your juices. she grabbed hold of your thighs and tossed a look at you before getting lost in the world between your legs.

she licked at your folds,tongue thrusting inside your sex with manic vigor. like clock work she alternated between your swollen bud and quivering heat; while still taking the time to look up at you. enjoying the look of pleasure on your face. as you got closer and closer to the edge your legs couldn’t help but clamp shut.

shuri let out a hum of surprise before attacking your cunt more feverishly. you could barely control your moans of pleasure as dots began to fill your vision.

“shit- shit! shuri baby i’m close!” you cried, hands grabbing hold of her hair. that only seemed to encourage her and with a look of mischief in her eye she gently bit down on your clit, sending you over the edge. a low moan erupted from your throat, legs all but strangling shuri as you road out your high.

“that was good.” you chuckled, pulling her into your chest for a messy kiss. you could taste yourself on your lips and that only re-tightened the coil in your stomach.

“so i’m told.” she smiled. “so how about you put these back on and we go somewhere where we can have some real fun?”

slipping into your discarded lace you looked up at her, “like where?”

“how about you lemme take you home. would that make you happy princess?”

#[moon's mind]#black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever #wakanda forver spoilers #shuri #queen shuri #shuri smut #shuri x reader #shuri x f!reader #afab reader #reader insert #black panther fic #mcu shuri #letitia wright #shuri x you

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wardenparker · 8 months

Text

The King's Queen - chapter 5

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Fluff. It's just fluff. Absolute, pure fluff with fluff on top. Summary: Dinner is a much needed retreat for you and Javi after such a busy and harrying today. Notes: After the emotional weight of the last chapter, we had to do something a little lighter.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

Wearily, Javier rubs his forehead and looks up at Julius. The afternoon had been spent with the council and he had ended up deciding that two of them needed to be replaced due to their obvious loyalty to Lucas. “Julius, will you see if the Princess is free to join me for a later dinner?”

His assistant nods, stepping away to pick up a discreet palace phone that will allow him to dial your suite - or any other room - directly. The line rings twice before it connects and he hears your voice on the other end. The fluid Spanish makes him nod approvingly and he relays the king's request accordingly. After a moment he murmurs a polite goodbye and hangs up, returning to the king's side with a smile. "The Princess has been waiting for your call," he reports with obvious enjoyment of that fact. "She is working in her suite and can meet you at any time, your Majesty."

He hums, a tired smile on his face. “Have the chef prepare the dinner that I had requested this morning, along with a red wine from the cellar. Champagne is perhaps too festive.”

Julius nods again, his go-to reaction for almost anything, but he hesitates slightly. "If I may, your Majesty?"

“Of course.” He has learned over the course of the afternoon that Julius has his finger on the pulse of the country and the palace. Invaluable in his contribution to his father’s reign.

"A case of pink gin found its way into the palace this morning, and I understand it is a favourite of the Princess's?" He tilts his head in amusement, as if the choice is endearingly whimsical. "If you intend to have the very same dinner for the very same purpose as you set down this morning, perhaps a cocktail could be arranged to accompany your dessert? As a treat for her Highness, but not one that would seem inappropriately...boisterous. Given the events of the day."

“That would be much appreciated.” Javier nods and sighs. “It’s been a long day and I think we could all use a drink. Whatever cocktail is created, give one to the staff as well, a toast to King Miguel.”

"Very gracious, your Majesty." The staff will appreciate the gesture, he knows that. The small things do not go unnoticed in a place like this. "And if I may be so bold..." When he receives a nod, Julius returns it with his own. "You did very well today, sire. Allowing yourself to enjoy some personal time is not inappropriate."

“Thank you.” He’s bone tired and sad, but looking forward to seeing you. Something about his father’s death is bothering him and he hasn’t figured out what it is. “Start putting together suitable replacements to Rodriguez and Estrada.” He shakes his head. “Tomorrow. You have also earned some personal time. Once dinner is served, instruct the staff to go home. Dishes can be washed tomorrow. It will not make the palace crumple.”

"Yes, your Majesty." He'll relay the message but has his doubts that it will be followed. The palace staff has a lot of work to do with an engagement, a funeral, a crowning, and plenty of other official events in the near future. "I will have suggestions for replacement cabinet members by morning."

"Thank you." He nods and motions for Julius to leave as he stands, groaning slightly at the ache in his back. "Have a good night." He will have dinner with you and then see if he can sleep. The last moments of his father are haunting him and he hates it.

******

It isn’t difficult to make sure that you’re ready for dinner at the right time and place, considering Javi’s rooms are still directly next door to yours for now. You had even located the door that connects your suites but decided that it might not be appropriate for you to appear in his rooms for dinner that way. Instead you had unlocked it, remembering what he said about the lock being on your side of the door, and gone over to the proper front door of Javi’s suite in the hallway to be announced.

By the time the knock on the door comes, Javi’s changed into something more casual, more him. Trousers and a short-sleeved button up, he feels the weight of the day drain away as he walks to the door to open it himself.

He’s really quite unfairly handsome, to the point that you can feel your cheeks burn when he so much as smiles at you, and tonight you can see the relief in his face when he opens the door to see you standing there. “How was the rest of your day, querido?”

“Margarita, it is good to see you.” He reaches for your hand to draw you into the room and leans in to kiss your cheek. “It was filled with headache inducing meetings. How was yours?”

“Far less stressful than yours, I think. But I will be happy to not be stuck with pins again for a long while.” Being in his arms has such a deep sense of security to it and you sigh without realizing. Whatever cologne he wears smells like the sea and you wonder if he made the choice consciously or not.

“Was it successful though?” He asks with a small chuckle as he leans back. “I heard that designer is good.”

“She was lovely. And very clever. I’ll have a few things quickly and more things over time.” When he laughs he smiles again and it makes you melt more than a little. “The things for the funeral and the state dinner will be done first, of course.”

“You will also have to choose a designer to make your wedding dress.” He reminds you. “As well as coronation gowns.”

With the door shut behind you, you don’t mind taking the moment of intimacy and leaning into his side. “How soon do you want to have the wedding?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be crowned as queen when I am crowned king, or if you wanted to wait.” Javi guides you over to the table that has been set for two in his dining area.

"It would be less of a to-do and less of an expense to have us both crowned together." With the responsibility of decision making falling to the two of you now rather than simply following orders, there is more to consider than just how soon you want to be married. "We could be married before the summer is over and have our coronation in fall or winter, if you want them close together?" The English king had waited almost a year for his coronation but you know from reading that Balearic tradition has coronations much more quickly.

“We could do a joint coronation and wedding?” Javi suggests, knowing the expense of either event will be large. “Have the wedding and the next day the coronation? Or would that be too much at once?”

“It would certainly be a big event.” The possibility is one that you had never considered, and you sit down at the table with him with an intense look of concentration. “The honeymoon tradition of touring the islands would be doubly useful, if we did that. It would be an extended celebration. Of course it would be a lot of work to put on the palace staff, but it would save a lot of trouble with planning. Overlapping guest lists and visitors, that sort of thing.”

“And in the end, instead of two separate, costly events, we essentially have one. It would end up saving the people money. We could also declare it a holiday week for them.” Javi suggests.

“We should give ourselves time to plan.” His enthusiasm for the idea is enough to convince you that it is worth pursuing, and you know you’ll be on board for whatever he ends up deciding. “How would you feel about waiting until autumn to have both events together?” While you may not have reservations about marrying him, you’re realistic about the fact that it will take quite a lot of work to get both things done. A few months is practically no time at all.

“That would work.” Javi nods. “There will be several coordinators that would work with you on it.” He promises. “Julius would have that information.”

“I’ll have my own assistant in a few days,” you tell him, sitting back at the table as a footman appears with a silver service cart bearing your dinner. “Julius is wonderful but I don’t want him to be overwhelmed or overworked.”

“Did you have someone in mind?” He smiles and nods at the footman as he bows. “Thank you, Juan.” He picks up the wine bottle and pulls the cork out. “We will not need anything else.”

The footman goes again without a word, and the comfortable quiet of a meal shared just between the two of you sounds perfect for tonight. “My brother,” you tell him honestly, watching as Javi pours you each a glass of wine. “He has been our father’s personal assistant for a few years now and knows me better than anyone. He’s also fluent in Spanish. And has a good eye for fashion, so I trust him with my clothing.” Looking up at Javi, you see the surprise on his face clear as day. “Is that alright?”

“That is perfectly okay, margarita.” He assures you quickly, smiling. “You will have your brother here with you, so I approve.” He is an only child, but from what you had told him, you and your brother get along very well.

“I think you’ll like him.” Sebastian was always the one who watched Nic Cage movies with you and encouraged you to pursue the things that made you happy, so you can’t see someone as kind as Javi not being endeared to him. “So,” you hum softly when he gets up to move to the cart. “What have you requested for our dinner tonight?”

“I requested your favorite meal.” He admits as he lifts the cloches and picks up the plates to bring over to the table. “Based off your social media.”

“Javi.” The china dishes are overflowing with penne coated in luxurious vodka sauce, heaped with piles of stunning shrimp, spinach, basil, and zucchini. Toasted bread lathered in garlic confit is even tucked into the side of the dish like a halo of culinary perfection. It looks even better than when you would get it from the Italian restaurant at the end of your block - and far better than when you tried to make it yourself. “This is absolutely sweet of you. And it smells incredible.”

“Good.” He’s relieved that he got it right and you seem delighted by the prospect of the meal. “Our chefs created this, so hopefully it is exactly what you would experience back home.”

“The company is better,” you venture, knowing that he’s probably far too tired and emotionally wrung out for anything close to flirting, but you are better honest.

You are kind, and lying, because he knows he is not good company for now. He smiles and motions towards the food. “Then let us see how it tastes.”

It’s heavenly. You would never say it to the faces of the family that own your favourite Italian restaurant, but the palace chef has outstripped their own recipe by a mile. The shrimp and zucchini are perfectly grilled and the sauce is like silk over everything. The hum that escapes your lips is as enthusiastic as your smile, and you’re glad to be indulging with him in private. This bowl of comfort food is not going to be eaten in a ladylike manner.

“This is delicious.” Javi moans as he swallows his first bite. Happy he had decided on a red wine to balance it out, it pairs perfectly and he takes a sip, relaxing even more. “We need to make private meals a regular thing.” He decides, looking at you to see what you think.

“Date night.” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you fluster slightly at how juvenile that sounds. “I—I mean…I agree. Time to ourselves is valued.”

“Date night.” Javi nods, perking up at your approval. “Perhaps I can show you some of my favorite places?” He asks. “It is important to me to show our people that we are interested in their businesses. My father would have me travel and eat local restaurants often.”

“I would love that.” It’s the furthest thing from what you expected from him, and that is sort of a delightful surprise. He wants to go out and be around his people instead of simply staying safe in the palace, which is utterly wonderful. As beautiful as these walls are, you can see already how they might feel like a gilded cage after a while.

“It is always nice to see how people are thriving.” Javi hums. “Or struggling. It is our duty to make sure that they do not struggle because of our decisions, although it is impossible to care for every individual.” They are his father’s words, carefully counseled time and time again. Once Javi had thought him simply not trying hard enough, but he now understands how much pressure he had been under. And this is just his first day as king.

“We will do everything we can.” From the position you’re in, that could be a whole lot. It could be enormous, the difference you could make. “A large or a small difference happens in many different ways.”

“Yes it does.” He’s glad you understand that, knowing that it would be difficult to explain if someone didn’t already know.

"We cannot expect the very beginning of things to be without a few bumps in the road." Whether you're talking about your relationship or his reign is up for debate, but you smile anyway. "But we will do everything we can."

“You are extraordinary.” He stops eating, just staring at you as if you are the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen in his life. “Truly.”

"What?" The comment takes you completely off guard and you look up from your plate to see him giving you every ounce of his concentration and focus. "I—how? Exactly?"

“You have withstood every obstacle that you have faced in such a short time here with grace and wisdom.” He reaches out and takes your hand. “I am lucky that you will be by my side.”

"I feel like I've hardly done anything," you admit, but when you look away from him bashfully you end up watching the way his thumb strokes methodically over the ring that he put on your finger just hours ago. "But I'm here to support you, querido. And if that ends up meaning this...these moments of quiet and encouragement? Then I have the easiest job in the world. Because I truly never want you to doubt yourself for even a moment."

“It has been a difficult day.” He admits quietly, “but being here with you is helping. You are a very calming presence. I appreciate you being there with me today, during the speech.”

"I would never have missed it." You squeeze his hand gently between your fingers and offer him a smile. "You really are much more charming and sweet than you could ever know. It is..." Cheeks burning all over again, your eyes hold on his and you can feel yourself soften even more. "It is impossible not to be drawn to you. I'm sure you won't have any problem winning the people over quickly."

“I am worried about that.” He sighs, looking down at your joined hands. “For a long time, I have been viewed as a wild child or a ‘playboy’.” He huffs. “It is my fault, I tried to ignore my obligations to my future. But I am afraid I have - how you say - ‘shot myself in the foot’?”

"Then I guess it's a good thing that you're about to be married, isn't it?" It will help in calming his image. There is no doubt about that. "A few months of being photographed with a princess who's crazy about you should pretty much do the trick."

“Where do I find such a creature?” His grin is small but he’s smiling. “Can you point me to her?”

This is exactly the charm that you're talking about, and you giggle slightly despite knowing how silly it is. "I have it on good authority that you've already found her."

“I have?” He looks surprised and then very pleased with himself. “Then I must confess that I have a slight crush on the Princess of Mallorca and the future queen.”

"Only slight?" Your lips twist up into a pleased grin and you can't resist the urge to tease him. Although is it teasing if it's the truth? "How disappointing. I have it on good authority that she would have called it love at first sight."

“A king must keep some secrets.” He teases. “Though I do confess that she stole my heart already.”

"I hope someday you feel comfortable letting me be your secret keeper, and that you might want to be mine as well." When privacy is so guarded, having a person to trust above everyone else means more than can be expressed. And you know that for all their problems, your parents were each other's vaults. You had always hoped for love as solid as that.

“I have already decided that you would be that person for me.” Javi admits, biting his lip and looking at you softly. “If that’s okay?”

"Of course it is." The two of you slowly start to eat again, keeping hold of your joined hands on one side of the table. "I, um...I unlocked the door, by the way. That goes between our rooms."

“You did?” His eyes dart towards the door and then back to you. “Do you— I mean— is it okay if—” he shakes his head. “Would you be comfortable if I came into your room tonight?” He asks, his voice low. “I don’t wish to be alone.”

"I didn't think you would," you admit gently. Grief is a remarkably lonesome bedfellow. "You can certainly come join me later if you like. Or...I could simply stay here? Whichever you prefer."

“You would be more comfortable in your room, sí?” He asks, frowning slightly. “Unless you would prefer to be here?”

"We're both so worried about the other person's comfort." It's sweet, actually. And it makes your heart beat just a little faster that his first thought is your comfort and not his own sadness. "I've only slept in my bed once, querido. I would not mind getting used to sharing it, however innocently."

“I fear I am not in the correct headspace to do much more than hold you.” Javi sighs. He would have loved to touch you under any other circumstance, but he can’t tonight.

"And that is in no way a disappointment," you assure him immediately. "I would be a remarkably insensitive kind of partner to expect anything of you today, Javi."

He exhales slowly, relieved that you don’t expect him to perform. “Thank you, margarita.”

"You have had a day from hell, querido." A fact with is surely an understatement, but you feel slightly reassured when he forks up another bite of his dinner. "There is no reason for you to be alone, but there is also no reason for anything to happen between us until we are ready."

“If my father had not collapsed, I would have been eager to touch you.” He admits. “I had hoped you had not wished to wait for marriage.”

"I really don't see the need." It's not as though either of you is going to be seeing anyone else - that idea sort of flew out the window with both the betrothal and the actual engagement. "Under other circumstances I might have come to see you for dinner wearing much more...creative things under my dress. But I have no doubt that time will come."

Javi swallows harshly, imagining you in something creative. He nods. “It does not have to be a race.” He sighs and decides it’s best to bring it up. “You will have to have a doctor’s examination before we can be together now.” He explains. “Since I am king. Just to make sure you are not pregnant.”

"Lovely." You don't roll your eyes despite feeling like you want to. It may be an antiquated tradition, but it does technically make sense. "They can ascertain that information with a blood test or an ultrasound if they want to be truly thorough. There is no reason for a doctor to examine anything else. It's not as if science believes the hymen is prove of virginity anymore."

“That’s what I meant.” He shakes his head quickly. “Just a test to prove you are not carrying another man’s child.”

"In that case, I don't have any objections." If you were marrying anyone beside a king, you probably would object loudly, but this is a fairly unique circumstance. "I'll arrange to see the royal physician soon. To get that obstacle out of our path."

“I am sorry.” He sighs quietly and shakes his head. “I know it is too much to deal with.”

"You're worth a little bit of trouble," you tell him matter-of-factly, putting down your fork so you can pick up your wine glass without letting go of his hand.

“I would not blame you if you ran for the hills.” He pokes at his dinner now, suddenly unhappy with the idea of doing this by himself. If you wished to go, he would not stop you. After all, his father is dead so he could break the betrothal if he wishes.

"But I won't." Putting a tiny bit more pressure on his fingers to get him to look up at you, your head tilts to the side as you take in his pout. "If you had looked at me today and said we needed to go make our vows immediately, I would have done it. I wouldn't have hesitated. This isn't just about the promise our parents made anymore." Your expression softens a little and you end up shrugging, like you have nothing to defend yourself with. "I might have been teasing you before, but...I meant it. It took a matter of hours for me to start falling in love with you. It's...it's as simple as that."

He closes his eyes and his own fingers squeeze yours. “I imagined putting you to bed in my bed.” He confesses with a soft smile. “Waking up with you in my arms and seeing how you like being kissed awake.”

"Next time I fall asleep stargazing, there won't be any reason to hesitate." It had been mildly embarrassing, realizing that you'd fallen asleep on that blanket with him on the cliff, but the way he took such tender care of you last night had wiped away any concern. "Kisses are one of my absolute favourite ways to wake up."

“I will keep that in mind.” He smiles and chuckles before he takes another bite of his meal. You really do seem to calm him and he’s grateful for it.

Conversation becomes idle while you finish your meals. It turns to stories from when you were both younger, small anecdotes to serve as a way to get to know each other better. You're about to migrate out to the balcony to watch the waves and gaze at the stars when he remembers that there is also dessert to be shared.

“There is tiramisu and cheesecake.” Javi murmurs. “It seems you love both of them.”

"I have a sweet tooth," you admit unapologetically. Apparently, it also extends to sweet men.

“Then we will always have a dessert to end the evening.” He smiles and brings the desserts over to the table on the balcony to share in the open air.

"And what is this?" The bottle of something pink in an ice bucket catches your attention on your way past the service cart and you pick it up. "Something special to drink, as well?"

“Your pink gin.” Javi admits, picking up the card that is by the bucket and reads. “It is called the clover club cocktail.” He tells you as he looks up. “It is supposed to be tart and sweet, with raspberries.”

"That sounds both delicious and terribly fancy," you decide, scooping up the two empty glasses on the cart along with the bottle. "Perfect for dessert."

“I wanted tonight to be perfect for you.” He admits, slightly sheepish. “I wanted you to be sure about your answer and I wanted to see how romance would play out between us.”

"This was your original dinner plan, wasn't it?" Remembering that he had said something about it earlier in the day, you set the bottle and the glasses down on the little table on his balcony and take up both of his hands in yours. "It's all been perfect. Just so you know."

“It was.” He flushes slightly and looks proud. “I had hoped that tonight would be far different than it has been, but I am glad I am still here with you.”

"You're a king, Javi, not a god. There are some things even you can't control." Opening your arms a little, you offer him a moment of comfort if he wants it.

Moving into your embrace with a chuckle, he can’t help but tease you. “If this was two hundred years ago, I would have been worshiped as a god.”

"Mm." You hum slightly and half-laugh along with him. "Tell me it's a kink and I'll make sure it still happens for you."

He stares at you for a moment in disbelief before he barks out a laugh. “You are not serious.” He pulls you closer to him and shakes his head.

"Nothing wrong with a worship or a praise kink." Still, you hug him back and don't press. It's enough to hear him laugh after such a long and stressful day.

“I have both.” He presses closer to you, feeling like himself completely now. “I just need to find out your own buttons.”

"They're not so difficult to figure out." Just standing with your arms around each other is infinitely relaxing, and you sigh quietly against his chest. "I've never really tried anything too adventurous."

"We have to make sure that those activities are not leaked." He snorts, halfway amused and slightly mortified at the idea of his sexual proclivities being talked about in great detail even more than they already are. "But we can try to experiment with almost anything you want."

“I’m not asking you to fuck me in public or to collar me or anything.” You promise him with a grin. “We should have no problem whatsoever keeping our private life private.”

"Or sharing." He shakes his head seriously. "I do not like to share. I was an only child."

A small, amused smile plays on your lips and you press a kiss to his cheek before leading him over to the little table to sit down together again. “I don’t like to share, either. And I have two siblings.”

He chuckles quietly and nods. "It must have been exciting, having siblings to share with. I had cousins, but it was not the same."

“I don’t know that I’d call it exciting.” At the table, you pour out two cocktails and set one down beside him. “Seb is the only boy, so he got unconscious favoritism from my dad. And my younger half-sister got the extremely conscious favoritism from my stepmother, since that’s her biological child.” You shrug slightly and take a sip of your drink, humming at the fruity, floral notes. “At least my brother and I have always gotten along.”

"And you have felt like the outcast." Javi guesses, aware of that feeling intimately. He has always felt like he was out of place himself. Born to the wrong parents, the wrong place. He had felt like he wasn't supposed to be a prince or a king one day. He had felt alone, even surrounded by his family.

“They didn’t mean to do it, but…yes.” Your family spent your entire life preparing to send you away. And aside from your brother, it seems like they mostly forgot that you were their family in the first place.

He sighs and picks up his glass to hold it up in a toast. "To feeling like an outcast and finding each other – perhaps because of it."

“Here, here.” Your glass clinks against his with a soft ringing sound and you half-laugh under your breath. “I suppose we’re proof that you can be surrounded by people and feel utterly alone. But…I haven’t felt that way since I met you.”

"I have felt nothing but peace since I have met you." Javi reveals. "Peace and finally a sense that I belong somewhere...with you."

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have known each other before this.” His words wash over you like summer sunrise, making you brighten and hum in his warmth all at once. To know that he feels exactly the same way you do is an unlooked for - though desperately wished for - gift. “I used to imagine I could be brave enough to write you letters. To become…pen pals or something. To know you before the day I was sent for. But clearly I was never brave enough.”

"My father had decided it was best that I not know until now." He understands why he had chosen that path, Javi had been a very defiant prince for a long time. However, once he had met you, he now knows he would have looked forward to the future with you if he had met you earlier. "Perhaps it was for the best, but I am grateful that I know he approves of our match."

“I meant what I said,” you tell him quietly, coaxing him to share the sweet ending of your meal by setting a fork in front of him. “I might not have known him well, but I know he would have been proud of you today.”

"For a long time, I tried to convince myself that his approval did not matter, but it does. I wish to make sure that he will be satisfied with the way I care for his people." Javi confesses.

“Then we will make sure that whatever steps we take, you are satisfied with them for yourself, and your father’s memory.” Being adult enough to admit to wishing for your parents’ approval is not something you’re going to downplay in the slightest, considering you go through nearly every day feeling a semblance of the same thing. “When I have trouble with a decision, I usually ask myself what my mother would have done. Or what I think she would have encouraged. I think it helps. To have that kind of moral compass.”

"I will have to remember that." He smiles at you softly and takes another drink of the cocktail. "This is very good. I see why you like your pink gin."

“It’s a little out of the ordinary. Unexpected.” You smile, taking in the sight of him beside you in the moonlight. “I’m finding that I like things that are a bit unexpected.”

"Is that so?" Javi smiles slightly and shakes his head. "There is a lot that will be unexpected in our lives, margarita."

“Then it will be an adventure.” Reaching across the small table, you squeeze his arm gently and find your smile broadening. “And I’m glad we’ll be doing it together.”

The desserts are shared, each one of you moaning over the taste and the rest of the bottle is split, leaving both of you stuff and slightly buzzed and feeling good. "This is what I needed tonight." Javi admits as he sets down his last glass, empty.

“I’m glad.” The idea that part of what has helping him feel better is bearing near you? It’s a comforting and grounding feeling that rolls through you to make you sigh. “Will you come to bed with me?” It’s an innocent question without sounding like it, and you feels your cheeks heat. “Just to find out what it is to sleep and wake up together?”

Javi smiles and nods. "Would it be alright if I sleep in my boxers?" He asks seriously. "I normally do not like to sleep in much."

“I don’t mind.” In fact, you welcome it. But saying so might seem like pressuring him and you won’t do that. “I don’t think Flores will be too scandalized.”

He nods and then he motions towards the tables. "You go get ready and I will clean this up to put on the cart." He tilts his head. "I dismissed the servants for the night, so it can stay until morning. It has been a trying day for everyone and I thought they could use some more personal time to deal with the loss of my father."

“You’re very sweet.” Standing stretching, you lend him a smile and point toward your shared door. “I’ll go change into my pajamas. Come in whenever you’re ready.”

"I will." He nods and watches you slip out through the door connecting your rooms and hums. He knows that he will be better off with you tonight. It will be better spending the night in your arms than chasing away demons and regrets by himself.

When it comes time to actually get ready for bed, Javi finds himself nervous. He's already changed into sleep attire that is appropriate, but he saves brushing his teeth. Carrying his toothbrush with him like a lost little boy as he knocks on your door to make sure that he does not walk in on you changing.

Instead of anything suggestive or overly decorative, you decided to change into a matching set of navy sleep shorts and short sleeved shirt. You had picked it out ages ago because you liked the little bronze-colored stars printed all over the set and it seemed like a very normal choice to make for tonight. Something ordinary that you might wear on any ordinary night. And not the very first thing you'll wear the very first night you share a bed with your future husband.

You go to the door to let him in, instead of just calling your permission, and you cannot help but smile when you see him standing on the other side with his toothbrush in hand. "Come in, querido." You step back to give him room and shut the hidden door behind him.

“I—” he looks down at his toothbrush and blushes slightly. “Have you brushed your teeth yet?” He asks, feeling slightly foolish. “I was hoping we could have a normal moment of domesticity together and I have watched so many movies where being in the bathroom together is comforting.”

CalamityConnie — 09/01/2023 11:12 PM

"I just finished washing my face, so brushing my teeth in next." Even as you nod toward your bathroom you feel like you could just squeeze him to bits in your arms. He is so unassumingly sweet sometimes.

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly, following behind you and focusing on the pajamas you are wearing with a small smile. “For this, for being there.”

"Do you have a side of the bed you like to sleep on?" Not wanting to let him sink into worry or sadness, you keep the conversation light and reach for his hand to tuck it into yours.

“Not really.” He admits with a shrug and a small grin.

"Then I guess we'll have to see how comfortable we get. Because I don't have one, either." Your bathroom has been modernized beautifully - and probably many times over the lifetime of this palace - and right now that includes an immense clawfoot bathtub dominating the wall opposite your marble sink and an ornate mirror to complete the feeling of luxury. Your bottle of lotion is sitting on the counter next to your toothbrush and toothpaste - the last three pieces of your nighttime routine.

“Then it will be interesting to find out.” He chuckles quietly. “I think I’m used to having the bed to myself.”

"So am I." You offer him the toothpaste first, feeling surprisingly normal about the small moment of domesticity that he wanted so badly, it feels right. "My bed is almost always just me and a bunch of pillows."

"Do you sometimes line them up beside you so you do not feel alone?" He asks, squirting a pea sized amount on his toothbrush and then picking up your own to coat it for you. In the softer light of the bathroom, the make-up mirror is off, you look so beautiful. Nothing but clear skin and he likes the little silk thing you have on your hair. It must protect it while you sleep. "I do sometimes."

“I…had a body pillow.” You admit sheepishly, although the body pillow is less silly than the large llama stuffed animal you used to sleep with long ago. “I left it back in New York, so…there’s a chance I may end up cuddling you in my sleep instead.” Not that that would be a bad thing. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

"Would you?" Javi asks, looking at your beautiful reflection for a moment before having to look away bashfully. He's too old to ask for a cuddle but he desperately needs it, tonight of all nights. "I mean, I wouldn't mind it and sometimes these big, drafty rooms can get so cold." That’s a lie, the castle is just like the climate of the nation, temperate. It just sounds like a good reason to curl up together shamelessly.

“I’m a cuddly sleeper.” And if today hadn’t been full of so much tragedy and stress, you have no doubt that you would be pulling him into bed for more than cuddles. But as it is, you wouldn’t blame him if that was too much intimacy for tonight. The fact that it seems to be a comfort to him relaxes you a bit. “So I can all but guarantee it.”

“That is good.” If might be considered pathetic how comforting that is, but Javi manages a pleased smile as he brings the toothbrush up to his mouth. Happy that you have been such a comfort to him and have promised to continue to be.

You brush your teeth in silence and pick up your lotion bottle after rinsing, habitually dabbing the silky coconut oil scented cream on the drier parts of your skin. “That’s it…” you acknowledge awkwardly. “Unless you’re not ready to go to bed?” Not that you can think of anything else he would need to do, you’ve just found yourself suddenly nervous.

“I…am exhausted.” Javi confesses quietly. “But I can stay awake if you are not ready for sleep?” He understands your body might still be accustomed to New York time. For you, he would stay awake.

“It’s been an exhausting day.” Nodding back toward your bedroom, you take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go to bed.”

Walking towards the bed, hand in hand, is oddly innocent and cathartic at the same time. The attraction is there, if it hadn’t been for the events of the day, he would be very interested in peeling off your pajamas, but the tone of the night is perfect. Comfort and a much deeper connection emotionally.

The bed is plenty big enough for two, and you crawl under the plush duvet together into the mountain of pillows with a soft sigh of relief. It has been a long, trying, and exhausting day, but that just makes you glad to offer him a place to burrow into your side. After all — his day was much harder and safer than yours. It is the least you can do to offer him comfort.

The comfort of your arms is quickly accepted, curling against you and his head ends up on your shoulder. “The bed is comfortable.” He offers after a small sigh.

“It is.” You had thought so last night, but you have to admit that your heart is beating a little faster now than it had then. “The company doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your shoulder and can’t help but snuggle into you a bit more. “Emotionally vulnerable men are a turn on for you?”

"Maybe." You can't help but laugh at that, and tighten your arms around him a little. "Or maybe it's just men who show any emotion at all."

“I cry during Pretty Woman.” Javi admits softly, as if that might prove his emotions. Hoping to hear you laugh again at his obvious attempt to curry favor.

"Because you're happy they end up together, or because that damn necklace is so pretty?" Smothering a little laugh, you nuzzle your nose into his hair and shrug unapologetically. "I never knew I was the kind of person to cry about jewelry, but it is very pretty."

“We have necklaces that are prettier.” He offers with a smile. “I’ll make sure to snap the box closed on your fingers.”

"I'll wear whatever you want me to, and make sure you catch me in the bath with headphones on at least once." Just to be able to hear him laugh a little, to release some of the tension from the day, is more than you could possibly ask for. The reality of losing his father will hit him slowly, it seems, and that is okay. It just means that you'll be here for the ups and the downs as they come.

“My mother loved baths.” Javi tells you quietly. “The king’s suite - my suite now - has the most magnificent tub.” His fingers start to play with the edge of your shirt as he talks. “They had a picture of me in the tub when I was younger, playing. But father said mother would soak every night after they retired for the evening. No matter how tired she was, she would spend at least twenty minutes in the tub. It was her unwinding.”

"Your mother sounds like an incredibly smart woman." His fingers toying with the fabric of your pajamas is welcome and far too alluring than you want to admit, but you would never presume to suggest that anything should or could happen tonight. You had promised him comfort and you won't betray that just because your body likes the way he touches it. "When I lived with my brother, he would go out on dates every weekend and sometimes I would spend the whole time he was at drinks in the tub. Just me and my candles and bubbles and wine with a good book."

“You should have the same type of tradition.” Javi decides. “There is so much stress and pressure with this role. A bath with wine and a book every evening before you sleep would do wonders.” Even though he has been so frazzled and heartbroken today, he feels safe, warm. If it wasn’t inappropriate, he would ask to kiss you again.

“And what will you do to unwind from your days?” Without realizing it, your fingers have found his curls and are toying with a few strands absently. “I know your days will be more stressful than mine, querido.”

“Perhaps, at times, you would allow me to join you?” He asks, “or I could watch a movie.”

“You may join me whenever you like.” It was what you wanted to suggest, but thought that it might be a little too forward for day two - and especially under the circumstances. But because he asked, you smile. “It sounds like a very sweet way to unwind from our days.”

“I wondered if father joined her.” He admits, wishing he had talked more to his parents when he had them. Learned to look beyond the stern facade.

“Would you like to think that he did?” It isn’t exactly hard to figure out that Javi is a romantic, and if it soothes him to think of his parents in love then you will encourage that fully.

"I think he probably did." Javi admits quietly, "when he wasn't working later or holding a meeting. My mother...she was my father's confidant." He might have told you this already, he couldn't remember, but it was helping the ache in his heart to remember the good things about the sometimes austere people who had tried their best to prepare him for a life of service to the peoples of the Balearic Isles. "He told me to choose one person to confide in. To give them my doubts and fears, to be vulnerable with."

“Do you…really want it to be me?” He had told his father that he did, and so far you know Javi to be an honest man. But to give comfort to a dying man is never a cruel lie even if it isn’t the whole truth. “It’s okay if you don’t, querido. If you have a best friend that already keeps all your secrets or something like that. I would not feel that you think less of me.”

“My entire life, all I have ever wanted was for someone to accept me as I am. To just…love me.” His voice catches slightly as he confesses this to you, the low light of the small bedside lamp not bright enough to chase away the shadows around the room, just illuminating one side of the bed where you both are curled together. “While you don’t love me, you do accept me. If we are lucky, love will come, as it did for my parents.”

“I do love you.” And you will say it as many times as you need to. As many times as he needs to believe it. “I didn’t know it could happen so quickly, but I meant what I said at dinner, querido. It began right away.”

His eyes close slightly. “I hope you stay in love.”

“We have known each other two days, Javi.” Carefully your hand tilts his chin up to make him look at you. “And I already can’t imagine being anywhere else, or with anyone else.”

He smiles softly, nodding as he listens to you. “You are amazing, you know this?” He asks.

“If you say so.” You certainly aren’t going to discourage him from thinking that if he wants to, and there’s a slight burn of warmth in your cheeks from the way he’s looking at you. “I’m just being honest.”

"I will have to tell you that you are good for me." He murmurs softly. "My parents were right."

"Sometimes they do know what is best for us." Although you would never admit it to your own father - there is no way you want to know what what 'I told you so' speech would be like. "And maybe we're both just enough like our mothers. They were best friends, after all."

“I wish that they had allowed us to know each other.” The age difference is the reason, but he would have liked to know what you were like as a younger woman.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." A small grin cracks your lips and you press a kiss to his hair. "Or you can wait until my older brother gets here and ask him. I'm sure Seb will be more than happy to tell you all of my embarrassing stories."

“Did you have a favorite stuffed animal, when you were a child?” He asks, wanting to keep away from heavy topics, keeping the mood light.

"I did, but it's...a little weird," you admit with a small grin. "I had a stuffed llama that was made out of llama wool." When he quirks his head curiously you laugh and shrug in return. "My parents took us to a petting zoo when Seb and I were little. I think we were maybe five or six? But I could not get over the llamas. They were so big and soft and friendly and they were my favourite thing ever. So my mother bought me a stuffed animal from the gift shop before we left that day."

“Llamas.” He smiles as he imagines it. “That is cute. I used to have a panda bear.” His panda had been with him for year, it was probably still somewhere.

"I can see that." He's snuggly like you always imagined panda bears would be. "Bears are a classic choice, no matter what kind of bear it is. Perfect to cuddle."

“Yes.” He’s making a mental note of your favorite stuffed animal, thinking of it for the future. “I always felt safe holding my panda. His name was Pedro.”

"That's adorable." Now all you can think of is whether or not he still has that panda - or what he would think of having a similar stuffed bear on hand for one of your kids someday. Nope. Far too early for thoughts like that. "My llama was Lily. All the 'l' sounds would make me giggle."

“Lily the Llama.” He hums happily. “That is adorable.”

"Lily the Llama is pretty on par with Pedro the Panda," you point out, relishing the small smile on his face. Anything that makes him smile is exceptionally worthwhile.

“Perhaps.” He chuckles and shakes his head against your shoulder. “I was thinking that perhaps when we have kids we should have a stuffed llama for them.”

"I thought of having a panda for them." The fact that you both thought it independently makes you smile, and you hug him close in your arms. "I suppose we'll have to do both, then."

“I could see that.” Javi smiles. “Our children would have both stuffed animals. Their own petting zoo.”

“If we made them a little zoo, I’m certain they would choose favorites.” The image is sweet, making you wonder how much he’s even thought about his future children beyond the fact that he would have to have some. “I can imagine visiting dignitaries arriving with stuffed versions of their country’s most popular animals.”

"It is customary to give gifts to the prince and princess," he admits. "Especially when younger. The last time I was in London, I brought them some of our blown glass whistles. Very popular."

“I have one,” you admit quietly, rubbing your hand up and down his back in soothing strokes. “It was part of one of the birthday gifts your mother sent when I was little. It’s exceptionally beautiful.”

"That is good." He smiles softly at the idea of his mother sending you gifts. "They are precious to me. The craftsman work that goes into one is amazing. I have toured one of the factories. Did you know that they still handcraft every whistle?"

“Maybe we could include one in the favours for our wedding?” Knowing that a small set of items will be given to every single guest as a favour at your wedding reception, the idea to make them all local and lovingly crafted items sounds beautiful. “We could choose items made by artists rather than larger companies? As a way to celebrate the people.”

“That would be wonderful idea.” Javi thinks that it’s wonderful that you would include something so centric to the economy for his country. “We can find lots of local crafts to include.”

“I think that would be nice. Paying tribute to the people.” The urge to lean down and kiss him is nearly overwhelming, but you resist. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable or feel pressured.

“It will be a wedding for the people.” He muses softly. “We will have to have dignitaries there, but I would like to hire as many of our people as possible to staff the wedding.”

“It will be an expensive day, and all of that money should go right back into our economy.” You could not agree more, and the fact that he is so determined about it makes you smile. “Local foods, local suppliers, local goods. All of it.”

“Yes!” His eyes light up and he beams at the idea. “Show the world what the Balearic Islands can give through trade.” It’s not exactly romantic, but he is king now.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” The urge is there again, especially with how he beams at you, but you resist just long enough to get your heartbeat under control and kiss his forehead instead. It’s a small gesture of affection but it does the trick. For now.

He needs to be close to you, he is, but it’s not enough. Turning his head up, Javi shuffles up onto his elbow and looks down at you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks quietly.

“I—of course.” It doesn’t surprise you that he would ask, but it surprises you that he would want to tonight. You won’t question it, though, both from wanting to offer him comfort and desperately wanting to kiss him again. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I don’t— I just want to kiss you.” He promises, leaning in and wanting to find comfort in the way that his emotions are already starting to grow even more. Despite the loss of his father; he isn’t alone.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for." You can promise him that wholeheartedly, although you know for damn sure that you'll be falling asleep with an aching cunt tonight. It doesn't matter. This is about his comfort and his feeling secure more than it is necessarily about desire. "But I don't think I'll ever say no to a kiss."

“I just— I didn’t want you to think I was using my father’s death as an— an excuse.” He tells you. “Some men would do that.”

“There is nothing wrong with seeking comfort, or even in giving yourself permission to forget for a few minutes to cope.” Having watched plenty of family and friends lose people closest to them, you have seen how pleasure can numb pain. It isn’t the worst coping mechanism in the world, even if some people look down on it. “I don’t think you’re being sneaky, querido.”

“I just— I wanted you to know.” He doesn’t know why it’s important for him to tell you that, but it is. Making him relax even more as he reaches up and caresses your cheek. “I never want to lose your trust.”

"Then let's keep being honest with each other." Your fingers brush his curls out of his eyes and you soften instantly. He really has the most beautiful eyes...

The kiss is gentle, slow. Nothing to indicate passion, it’s just a melding of your mouths. His hands stay put, not drifting as his mind blanks of everything but kissing you.

Deciding that the most respectful thing you can do is follow his lead, you have to repeatedly remind your hands to stay where they are, and keep the level of passion you're showing in check because what you're feeling is just so much more. There will be more time. This is only your second night together. You have the rest of your lives..

He relaxes into the kiss and sighs softly. Eyes closed and slowly taking the kiss for every small moment and absorbing it. It's natural. Languid and exploratory without pushing at any boundaries. His hand doesn't move from your waist and yours stays on his arm, like as long as you keep to those rules then you can keep yourselves in line. He doesn’t know how long he kisses you. Minutes, hours. It could be days that have passed while he breathes you in and gives you his own breath. Slowly and softly kissing you like nothing else exists.

Everything else has faded. The stress of the day is muted well into the background and the only thought making its way to the front of your mind is how sweet he tastes. How gentle he is. How desperately right it feels to be pulled tight against him in bed together. By the time the two of you separate you feel dizzy, and fuzzy around the edges in the very best way.

“Thank you.” The gratitude is whispered, a smile accompanying it as the first sense of peace really settles into his tired body. “For being here. For standing beside me.” He shuffles to settle down against you again. “With you here, I feel as if we are going to be an unstoppable team.”

******

The king is still wrapped in your arms the next morning, sleeping with his head on your shoulder and his own arm snuggly around your waist when Flores comes into the room to open your curtains and wake you to dress for breakfast. The sight of the king in your bed with you is not one she had expected for some time, but you both look so contented that she cannot help smiling. Quickly and quietly, Flores hustles over to the next room to let the king’s valet know where he spent the night, and to make a gentle suggestion — that perhaps after the trials of yesterday and the comforts of last night, you should be allowed breakfast on trays in bed together.

The door opening softly again this time stirs Javi. He had been dreaming of his father, sitting in the study while looking hale and whole, praising his son for the decisions he was making. Feeling so real that his heart is overjoyed, he opens his eyes to find Flores coming into the room again, a soft smile on her face.

“Good morning, your Majesty.” She curtsies deeply as she directs a small silver service cart into the room and parks it beside your nightstand. “We took the liberty of bringing your meal to you instead of laying it in the breakfast room,” she murmurs, noting the details of the room as she goes. You are still wearing your pajamas and the room has no scent beyond flowers, so she tucks that thought away entirely. “I will return in half an hour to dress the princess and your valet will have your schedule for you in your rooms.”

“Thank you, Flores.” You are still sleeping and he bites his lip before looking at her again. “Make it forty five minutes.” He decides, wanting to wake you up slowly.

“Yes, your Majesty.” With another nod and deep curtsy, Flores backs out of the room to slip off and attend to other business. There is plenty of it, after all.

Once alone again, he turns back towards you, struck again by how sweet you look. Sleep giving you an innocence that could not be described beyond beautiful and yet it takes his breath away. The back of his fingers brush your cheek gently and he caresses your neck. “Princess?” He coos softly, smiling when your mouth twitches slightly in sleep.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you mumble sleepily, the title being still so foreign to you. Sleep has glued your eyes shut but you force them to open just for the view of Javi you know you will get. And when you do, you sigh audibly. “Morning, handsome.”

“Wait until the title is ‘Queen’.” He hums as he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I have a question to ask you.”

“Anything.” Even still half asleep, you know you’ll grant him anything, and he’s so warm and soft beside you that it still feels like you’re dreaming.

“I have dreamed of a Princess my entire life.” He admits softly. “Imagined the perfect woman to stand by my side and even then, I could never have imagined how perfect you would be.” Your eyes are soft, slightly watery as he speaks. “It is not the romantic dinner I had imagined, but I do not want to wait.” Your full name comes out softly. “Will you marry me and become the next queen of the Balearican Isles?”

“Querido…” Tears are unexpected this morning, but it’s such a sweet and gentle moment that you can’t help the few that escape the corners of your eyes as you nod eagerly and surge forward to kiss him. “I will.” The words swell in your chest and practically have you giggling against his lips. “Yes—I—I love you, Javi.”

“I love you.” He promises, unsure of how this happened so quickly, but it seems right, as if it was meant to be. “We will have a long and happy life together.”

______

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sciderman · 5 months

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What was it like coming up with Anita’s design versus Olive’s design?

god! feels like so long ago now, i don't know if i can cement all my thought process - sometimes you just see something and it clicks into place - with anita, i needed something with a heart motif - something classy, and something fantastical. something that almost couldn't exist in reality. something made of dreams and rainbows. anita is a fantasy - the ultimate, divine diva who came from the heavens. the embodiment of truth and love.

the rainbow motif kind of came from anita being kind of a filter - she was born out of necessity for wade to be able to filter his emotions - i was in writers block with a truth anon and i needed anita to be that filter to get wade to express himself. so she's a prism of light. (it's also why i sneak in that pink floyd shirt constantly. hehahoheo...)

i think somewhere in a hunt for visual inspo i peeped this monstrosity. and i riffed on it.

this dress... dear god it's impossible. and kind of hideous. but there's something there. there's something there. it's as gaudy and loud and fantastical as anita has to be. added a garter (because she's playful, and i kind of just - love the garter symbolism attached to wade, and the traditions that are attached to it – all being tied to marriage and good luck all-the-while also being tongue-in-cheek) added evening gloves (she's a lady) and – vitally, the mask. because all in all, she's still putting on a show.

olive - olive's first ever look was inspired by a beautiful brighton queen - she had a kind of asymmetry motif to her outfit that i kind of really loved for peter - if peter would have a motif - it had to be asymmetry. two sided boy. one side slutty, one side conservative.

duality of olive... and oliver... early on i kind of wanted there to be a distinction between olive and oliver - olive me is this sweet, romantic creature. who's ready to give all of himself - and oliver me is...

bossy. slutty. whorish. demanding. they kind of melded into one - i think they kind of had to. but it's a conceit in olive's playlist too - two warring genres - the soft, hopelessly romancey tones of ella fitzgerald vs the sluttiest era of britney. peter's both of those things. a romantic idiot, but an absolute freak. i thought about having a half-mask sort of situation, like the classic way the comics drew his spider-sense -

i think i'll still do it at some point - a la one of those fun half-man half-woman vaudeville acts - i think it could be hilarious.

i'll do it one day. i'll do it one day.

it's kind of important that olive doesn't wear the mask, though, i think - so the funny little britney-esque microphone became my compromise.

the aerial silks were vital. vital. in fact, it's how i became obsessed with spider-man - i saw a spider-man themed aerial silk performer at a circus, and i could Not stop drawing spider-man since.

peter getting to be that sort of lithe, strong, athletic sort of queen vs wade's very classically feminine sort of queen.

the silks are important - i sort of have it living in my head, no matter how impractical it is, that peter spun those all himself. his entire costume came from him. hence all the pink glitter which, apparently, flows through his veins.

pink's kind of the colour of love, in the 9319 universe. literally.

peter's kind of a bottomless reservoir of love. which is great, because wade needs a lot of it.

i always think about how pink is kind of a softened red. peter's so full of passion, and rage, and red is so intrinsic to him - it's something he's scared of, actually. all the red that courses through his veins.

but when you soften him, he's all pink. all that passion and anger comes from love - it's kind of his lifeblood. it's the thing that consistently pulls him through, in every iteration of him. it's literally what pulls him from the brink of death.

sorry. wow. i'm going through all of these gymnastics to tell you why olive wears pink. why is my brain like this.

#sci speaks #ask-spiderpool

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kasagia · 1 year

Text

♡Be my Valentine♡

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Summary: The day of lovers came like a bolt from the blue. You were planning to stay in your house, make yourself a huge pizza, and celebrate another year of being a single, self-sufficient woman. But you forgot that having the original hybrid as a lover-enemy (more like a puppy/wolf madly in love with you) comes with all sorts of surprises.

Word count: 4,4k+

My bloodthirsty alarm clock has been bothering me for 15 minutes. I promised myself that this time I would give up throwing a metal object and save myself the few dollars I used to spend on a new alarm clock every month. I groaned, rolling out of bed and getting up to turn off the death machine. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and threw myself back on the bed to check my messages.

Queen of school: Don't forget about the Valentine's Ball! I want to see you there with some sexy guy, so this freak-ancient hybrid will finally give you peace. P.S. Don't even think about missing it. I'll make Stefan or Damon come for your lazy ass.

Love you too, Gilbert. :-P

I groaned as I put a pillow over my face. It completely slipped my mind that today is this bloody holiday. Caroline will kill me if I try to avoid this annual nightmare again. I had to find a way to get out of this. Last year I had an unannounced visit from my mother, and two years ago I went skiing with Elena (who had broken up with Matt and was as reluctant to participate in this stupid holiday as I was). Maybe this time Bonnie could help me extricate myself from this?

Hello, my best friend ever! Could you help me hide in the darkest hole in this town so I didn't have to go out today and risk my mental health being completely damaged after seeing all these copules who will be sucking each other's faces and pelting each other with chocolates, flowers, and God knows what else?

Bon_Bon sweetheart: Are Caroline or Elena making you go to the party again?

Yes. On pain of death.

Bon_Bon sweetheart: You three are such drama queens. Give me five minutes. I'll come to you and help you with your excuse.

Thank you! You've always been my favorite.

Bon_Bon sweetheart: Don't let Caroline hear that!

I sighed in relief as I put my phone down. Immediately after, it buzzed, signaling an incoming call. Rebekah.

"What's up?" I asked after answering it.

Rebekah and I formed a sort of friendship after she joined our school. Of course, the girls were furious, but with time, they grew accustomed to my strange, warm-hearted relationship with Mikaelson. Actually, not only one of them. Kol was surprisingly nice after our many fights over every food I had, he liked to mess with me, especially after he saw I didn't shy away from teasing him just because he was an evil, crazy original vampire. Elijah and I somehow ended up together in the public library, discussing a book we were both reading. Since then, I've had three "friends" of the originals.

There was only one problem in this strange, twisted life of an ordinary man among the vampires, witches, and werewolves that I managed to lead. And there weren't fights between my two groups of friends. The problem was called Klaus Mikaelson. A man who turned our relatively quiet life in Mystic Falls upside down. A vampire who wanted to use Elena's blood to make hybrids similar to him (which she refused to do, as if taking her magical blood every month and giving it to Klaus wouldn't bury the hatchet between bloodthirsty vampires and bring us peace again).

"Can you tell me why all of the people are acting crazy? I mean, they aren't usually normal, but today they are unreasonable! Every wall is plastered with strange hearts, angels with arcs, and other red and pink damn things. We're celebrating a day of ripping people's hearts out, or what's the point?" she asked, both annoyed and confused by the whole situation. Just let it wait until Valentine's Day mail. Then a real nightmare happens.

"Almost. Have you ever heard of Valentine's Day, or has your ancient ass been kept in that musty coffin too long for you to know such a thing?"

"What?"

"In short. There was this one guy who decided that he had to set aside one special day in the year when people would declare their sincere, undying love for each other. And attention. Today is that day. So if you have a boy you're crazy about, you might as well go out with him tonight. If you don't have such plans, you can join me. We'll watch a movie, eat junk food, and complain about all men on this earth." I suggested as I walked into the kitchen and made sure I had everything I needed to survive this day.

"You seriously don't have anyone you would like to spend this day with? Did you see yourself in the mirror?! You're beautiful and…"

"Thank you. But I don't want to go out, find some guy, and have fun with him just because this holiday expects it of me. I'm not looking for one-night stands or something like that. Plus, I could use a day off from the drama of Mystic Falls."

"As you wish. I guess I'll try my luck and try to find someone. Hang on there!"

"Good luck! Have fun, honey!"

As soon as I hung up, I heard a knock on the door. I changed quickly, tying my hair as I went, and opened the door. Bonnie wrinkled her nose at my messy state.

"Hi girl. You really don't want to go, do you?" she asked, entering the apartment and looking around. It's a good thing I cleaned up last night.

"After planning a whole beautiful day of doing nothing? No thanks. I just hope Caroline will forgive me." I replied, leaning against the door and staring at the witch.

She has changed since she found out who she really is. She became bolder, more persistent, and fiercer. Like all of us, I guess. Sometimes I miss those quiet days when vampires and werewolves were just fantastic inventions. Everything was simpler then.

"She might be a little pissed off, but she'll understand. Caroline just wants you to be well. She thinks you haven't gotten over your breakup with Luck yet and wants to help you." she tried to defend her friend's behavior.

However, we both knew that Caroline's dominant side wasn't just the result of her caring. She liked to stick her nose in other matters; the fact that she was trying to save the whole world at the same time was the only reason why we turned a blind eye to the blonde's behavior.

"As if being single was a punishment, not a choice. Just because I didn't jump into the arms of some other hot, dark-haired guy doesn't mean I'm still grieving the breakup with that asshole." I grunted, annoyed. I was able to fully take care of myself. I didn't need a man to lean on, especially not after what happened with my ex. Life alone was easier.

"I know. That's why I bring you this." she took a small glass bottle from her leather bag and handed it to me.

"What is it?" I asked, taking the vial from her and turning it over in my hand.

"Potion. A couple of sips, and you'll have a terrible cold. Take it when one of the guys comes to check on you. As soon as he's gone, eat a black peppercorn, and you'll be back to normal."

"Wow. How do you know that? You're becoming a more advanced witch, Miss Bennet. 5 points for Hufflepuff." I said with admiration. I have always loved witches and hags depicted in literature, so having a real one as a friend was a real blessing for me. That doesn't mean I'd give up joking about Bonnie's extraordinary abilities.

"Really funny. Now excuse me. Unlike you, I'm going to school, and I still have to pick out a dress, and unfortunately, I don't have a rich hybrid at my beck and call. Why don't you go out with him if you don't have anyone else? This will keep Caroline from letting you go. Also, he seems to be more peaceful for us after he spends a day with you." she tapped me on the arm with a mischievous smirk.

"Yeah. And right after the perfect date, I will confess my great love to him by getting down on one knee and proposing to him."

"If that's what you want. Happy Valentine's Day, grouch!" she screamed with a huge smile, closing the door behind her. A strange feeling of hope ran through my body.

After all, maybe it's going to be a good day.

~♡♡♡•♡♡♡~

*A few hours later*

"It's a pity you got sick today." Stefan said after he took my temperature.

The vampire was delegated by Caroline to get me out of the house at all costs. Luckily, Bonnie's potion worked perfectly, and that's how I ended up wrapped in the warmest blanket on the couch with my few-hundred-year-old friend.

"I know. I really wanted to go to the ball and see how you and Caroline won the prize for being the best couple." I said, blowing my nose into one of the handkerchiefs.

"Do you believe in us so much?"

"Well, after Tayler swore to make Klaus' life miserable, he didn't work well as her boyfriend. They were cute at first, but it all went to hell. So take your chance before some other handsome guy hangs around her. Like Kol or Elijah." my taunt was met with a small snort from the man.

"Speaking of the Mikaelsons. How's your fledgling relationship with Klaus? I'm surprised he didn't call in the entire medical team from the hospital to check on you." he replied amused when he noticed how my smile fades along with the memory of the original.

"You think you're funny, Salvatore? Aside from your feeble attempt at joking, I must also point out your poor choice of words. Me and Klaus have no relationship."

"Of course. The guy just sends you fancy, expensive dresses every time there's a party in Mystic Falls, sends you love notes with your portraits on them, is there for you almost 24/7, and scares away any potential guy who wants to date you." he teased, counting on his fingers all the deeds of the original.

"He did what?! Who the hell he scared?" I sprang off the couch, dropping a box of tissues as I went.

"I witnessed him almost stabbing Kol for saying you looked scathing in one of those dresses he sent you. Poor Elijah had to look for you all over the school so you could distract your hybrid." he laughed a little at the indignation on my face.

"He isn't mine." I growled, returning to my comfortable spot on the couch.

"Tell him, not me. So, you don't happen to have a date with that wolf in love?" he asked, suddenly curious, leaning in my direction with searching eyes and a mysterious smirk on his lips.

"Pigs will fly before I date that damn imbecile." I snorted, pushing him away from me to reach for another tissue. Bonnie seems to have overdone the potency of this wonderful potion.

"Well, think it over. If Damon sees flying pork in Mystic Falls tomorrow, he'll probably go abstinent. You could inherit his share of our old wine collection from him."

"Did Caroline send you to act as my and Klaus' matchmaker for her?"I asked, leaning over to the vampire to eye him suspiciously.

"Not that blonde. But it was Caroline who finally convinced me. You don't even know how a common goal can unite even the worst enemies. Have a good time!" he shouted, pushing me onto the couch and grabbing his phone off the coffee table.

"Stefan! Wait!" I tried to stop him, but thanks to his super speed, he escaped from my apartment.

I snorted, muttering curses at the vampire under my breath as I stood up to close the door behind him.

It was usually Caroline, Bonnie, and Rebekah who teased me about Klaus' supposed feelings for me. The girls would make suggestive, eloquent comments whenever me and Klaus did something together or paired us up for a particular task against the newest threats in Mystic Falls. They often used me as a "distraction" and "bait" for the original hybrid. Not to mention their whistling every time we somehow danced together.

Worst of all, though, was Rebekah's teasing after I stayed overnight at the Mikaelsons' and Klaus and I accidentally ended up in his bed. I will never forget her malicious tone of voice and the wave of shame and embarrassment that engulfed me after she said to Klaus: "You must not have tried hard enough, brother, since neither of us heard you had a visitor in your sheets."

Adding Stefan to their little "group of bullies" will only make their taunts worse.

My God, keep Kol away from their stupid plans.

I went to the kitchen to take "an antidote" for my illness. I made myself some popcorn and decided to watch "Pride and Prejudice" as my first movie tonight. Halfway through the movie, I heard a knock on the door. It could only be one person.

"If you don't have food with you, I'm not going to let you in, Bekah." I said as I opened the door. I froze in place when I finally saw who was on the other side of them. Klaus.

"Not this Mikaelson, love. I've heard you are sick, so I brought you this." he picked up the bundle in his hands, which smelled dangerously similar to my favorite food.

"How the hell did you get here? I thought you and Elijah were going on a reconnaissance mission or something like that, and you'd be gone for a week." I said, honestly surprised to see him.

"It's nice to know that you do care about me, love, and are taking the trouble to assimilate such information. Satisfying your curiosity, we came back early. Can I come in now?"

"It depends." I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

"On what?" he asked with a charming smirk, leaning his head against the door frame.

"What is this?" I asked, pointing to the packaging.

"That disgusting, fiendishly spicy spaghetti that you've somehow taken a liking to lately."

"And what do you have in the other hand?" I asked as I saw him trying hard to hide something behind him.

"It's a surprise. I can't jump out with all my gifts right now, can I?"

"Make me regret this, and I'll ask Bonnie to cancel all my invitations again, even if it means I'll spend another half day letting my friends in, because amazingly, 90 percent of them are vampires."

"I won't make that mistake again, love. If you could…" he pointed at the door and the invisible barrier blocking him from entering.

"Come in, the bane of my existence." I sighed, turning my back on him to go back to my cocoon of blankets on the couch.

"You must admit, I'm the most handsome bane you could ever dream of."

"I don't know… you could be at least younger." I replied thoughtfully, smiling as his confident smirk faded.

"Ouch." he put his hand on his chest, close to his heart, pretending to be hurt. He carefully placed the packaging on the coffee table and handed me the gardenia bouquet, which he had been hiding behind his back all this time.

"And for what occasion?" I asked, taking the flowers from the softly smiling hybrid and looking at them for a moment. Despite my reluctance, I had to admit that they were beautiful and smelled amazing.

He nodded at the bouquet. I looked it over carefully, noticing a small piece of paper between the flowers. I opened the note, checking its contents.

Unpack your lunch.

There was no mistaking Klaus' perfect handwriting for anyone else's.

I frowned, glancing at the hybrid sitting carelessly beside me. The bastard pretended not to see my questioning look and watched the scene of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in the rain with fascination, like nothing happened.

I snorted as I opened the box and started eating my spaghetti while continuing to watch my movie. At one point, I felt Klaus's arm slide precariously onto the back of the couch behind me, and the hybrid itself moved slightly closer to me.

He watched me for a moment, gauging my reaction. I decided to tease the vampire a bit and, sighing deeply, leaned back completely against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

He tensed up, gently wrapping his arm around me that he had placed on the back of the couch earlier.

When I had finished eating, I saw that there was a note on the bottom of the clear plastic box on the other side. I turned the box over, reading another note, much to the interest and excitement of the man sitting next to me.

Check your jacket pockets.

I turned my gaze to Klaus. I looked into his eyes, trying to see the shadow of any plan he was hiding.

"Any problem, love?" he asked, pretending to be a fool.

"I don't know yet." I mumbled, licking my mouth. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips. He leaned toward me, getting dangerously close. His attention returned to my eyes, trying to anticipate my next move. With a small, mischievous smirk, I shoved the empty box into his hands and pushed him away from me, getting up from the couch to walk over to the coat rack.

I slipped my hand into the pocket of my leather jacket, immediately sensing the tiny square note.

Go down.

I turned to the hybrid standing behind me. I held the paper up to his eye level, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"What's this?"

"Come and find out for yourself, love. I dare you."

I crossed my arms over my chest, giving him a defiant look.

"You know, I have a rather tempting counterproposal to stay in a warm and cozy home. I'm hardly drawn to the unknown with my friends' nemesis."

"It would be such a shame if Caroline somehow got to know that you're quite healthy and ready to go to her party. You had to leave your cozy couch."

"You wouldn't…" I walked over to him, giving him a menacing look.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he accepted the challenge by taking a step closer so our chests were touching.

"Well played. Expect retaliation, love." I replied, trying to imitate his tone of voice when he gave people that nickname. The hybrid only laughed. He helped me put on my jacket, and placing his hand on my back, he led me out of the building.

We stopped in front of his car, on the hood of which was another card.

Let the handsome and hot chauffeur drive you to your destination.

"Handsome and hot? Someone's got a good imagination." I laughed, turning the note over in my hands. The man gave me a hurt look as he opened the passenger door for me. "Someone is also mysterious today." I teased further, walking over to Klaus to face him. "Really? Won't you tell me anything?"

"Careful, love. Curiosity killed the cat."

"And the satisfaction brought him back."

"If you want, I can work on your satisfaction later when we get back."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his smug smirk as I got into his car without a word.

He was in the driver's seat next to me in less than a second and had already started the engine. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the main road out of Mystic Falls.

"Where are we going?" my question was met only by his silence. "Come on. I'm not jumping out of the car when you're going that fast anyway."

"Who knew you were so impatient, love? We'll be there shortly." he replied, glancing briefly at me. He smiled, obviously amused by my grumpy attitude.

"Who would have thought you could hold your tongue for more than five minutes?"

"Insults will get you nowhere, love." he smiled teasingly, looking at me for a moment.

"Please, Klaus. Tell me where you're taking me so I can tell you what a wonderful, loving, and caring guy you are that instead of handing me over to the bloodthirsty Caroline, you decided to take me on the adventure of a lifetime."

"That's better." I huffed angrily, moving as far away from him as possible. In the reflection of the window, I saw him roll his eyes. "If you must know, I'm taking you to the only place worth seeing in this awful neighborhood. Content?"

"Sufficiently." I turned to him with a mischievous smirk on my lips.

A few minutes later, we stopped in some forest. Klaus got out first, waiting for me to follow him. Hesitantly, I opened the door and walked over to him, immediately grabbing his hand. It was far too dark for hiking. At least if I wanted to get home in one piece without any tripping. The hybrid smiled softly, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. He moved confidently through the forest, guiding me along the forest path until we came to a cliff.

Still holding his hand, I walked to the edge, staring at the landscape before us. Not far away we could see a tiny waterfall, from which a river flowed further, stretching through the hills, valleys, and other elevations of the forest. But the most charming of all was the starlight reflecting in the fast current of the river and the sound of fir trees accompanied by the falling water.

I turned to look at the hybrid standing next to me.

Did I mention he laid a blanket, strewn rose petals, and lit several candles? No? So he did. How could I get back to my playful, mischievous mood after something like that?

"So… do you like it?" he asked uncertainly as I stared at him silently for a long time. Did I like it? I loved it.

"Yes. I like it." I replied instead, smiling shyly at him.

He led me to a blanket and took a rectangular box from his pocket, which he handed over to me after a moment's hesitation. I felt his expectant gaze on me as I unwound the bow. Before opening the box, I cast a fleeting glance at my companion. I've never seen him both so excited and… full of fear at the same time.

I sighed as I saw a beautiful silver bracelet with a pendant of a wolf howling at a silver moon, circled by a small bat, and a lapis lazuli-studded crown.

After my first fascination with the starlight reflecting object wore off, I noticed the smallest of all notes attached to the top of the box.

Will you be my valentine (and my queen)?

"Oh Klaus, I... it's..." The worry line on Klaus' forehead began to deepen as he began to assume I wanted to reject his cute confession.

"It's okay, love. I should have known it was too much. You don't have to say yes or anything. We'd best forget all about it. I will drive you back home if that's what you…" I shut him up by taking his face and putting his lips on mine.

I started to passionately kiss the paralyzed and shocked vampire. It took him a few minutes to realize what I was doing. He kissed me back and pulled me to him, so I was sitting on his lap. I smiled at the hybrid's grip, running my hand through his curly, velvety hair. We broke apart when I was completely out of breath. Breathing heavily, I smiled at the equally disheveled man.

"Well… I guess the answer is yes, then."

"Yes. I'll be your stupid valentine. But it'll take you a few more dates before you can call me your queen." I replied with a smile, tangling my hands in his hair.

"I can work with that." he whispered, never taking his eyes off mine. I cleared my throat awkwardly, unaccustomed to so much affection being shown toward me. I shifted my flustered gaze and started playing with his hair.

"Good. Now, tell me about the constellations."

"Isn't that too tacky by your standards?" he inquired, cupping my chin with one hand to refocus my attention on him.

"Yes, but I already do things I usually don't. We might as well continue to fulfill all the points of these romantic comedies."

"And what changed your mind?"

"I just have good company." he smiled and kissed my forehead, stroking my hair.

Klaus pulled me closer so I could lean against his chest. Out of nowhere, he pulled out a basket full of cookies, chocolates, and other sweets, along with a bottle of red wine. I turned slightly to look at his face as he held me tight in his arms and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well. Let's just say I wanted to keep it as a consolation if you don't take my confession well and run away screaming from me."

"Selfish man." I snorted, reaching for the candy bar. It took all my strength to keep from laughing at the hybrid. The vampire, however, was too attentive and noticed my amused smirk.

"Try telling that to my siblings, and I'll lock you in my room and never let you out."

"You should know better than to threaten me with a good time." I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and went back to eating the sweets.

He sighed in shock at my seductive suggestion. After a moment, he rested his chin on my shoulder and pulled me closer to him.

"So? Was it worth leaving home?" he whispered in my ear, planting a few kisses. My cheeks warmed slightly. Even without seeing his face, I could tell he was smiling goofily now, very pleased with my reaction. I turned to him, meeting his loving gaze.

Definitely.

"Possible. But you'll have to convince me a little more to be completely sure." he smiled teasingly. I could see the mischief in his eyes before he started tickling my stomach.

I screamed as I tried to get out of his strong grip. During my (unsuccessful) struggle, I knocked us to the ground, landing on my back with Klaus on top of me. With his new position, his teasing movements intensified, making me gasp with laughter.

"Okay, you won! You won!" I screamed between fits of laughter. "It was worth it."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." I said, pulling him into (one of many) kisses tonight.

If it involves being his queen, I think it only takes him an hour to convince me… maybe even less.

After all, it was a very good day.

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martelltyrellmont · 1 year

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ɢʟɪᴍᴘꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ

Summary: Where Viserys marries for the third time, upon learning that Alicent Hightower shows signs of Greyscale.

Part 2

My name is Arianne Velaryon, youngest daughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys, Rider of Vemithor, third wife of King Viserys Targaryen, Mother of his last Son Daeron "the gentlest" Targaryen or also known as the Hightower bargaining chip or the treacherous whore

Note: two years older than Aegon, 13 and 14 years younger than Laena and Laenor.

Foreword

The Old, The True, The Brave.

Castle Driftmark - High Tide

2 years before

I could hear the waves crash against the rocks, in such a violent way that the walls rumbled, with my eyes half closed I knew what my destiny was, I was ready or I convinced myself that I was, exactly 8 moons ago the King had decided to marry again , the rumors pointed out that the queen had fallen from grace, she had Greyscale.

My father Lord Corlys offered my hand at minute one when the king announced his second marriage, as Aegon the Conqueror exercising the right to a second wife, until now I had been courted by the king, when announcing our engagement my family celebrated the victory, a victory to my base.

I always thought that I would marry someone Young, for example ser. Erryk Cargyll - a sigh took hold of my ribcage, lying on my bed, I only had the company of my lady Lina Mares.

Her eyes were violet like mine, we shared almost all the characteristics of the same hair color, except that my skin tone was lighter than the rest of Velaryon and her bastards, she looked at me the same way I looked at her, her gaze reflected melancholy and anguish.— I heard the rumor that Lord Corlys rejected his proposal, being a lower house than yours, my lady, it is also said that for this reason I led him to want to be part of the royal guards

Lina sighed, but continued— look on the bright side both the king and queen are each sick, if you care about being with the king every night, I don't think it's like that, remember that Aegon spent 10 nights with Rhaenys for 2 that It was happening with Visenya. — but Lina forgot the little detail Alicent was sick. — On the other hand, my mother informed me that Princess Rhaenys, I ask that I accompany you as your lady-in-waiting in Red Keep — the white-haired woman took my hand. — you will not be alone and I doubt your parents will leave you alone in that nest of vipers as you call it.

Just smile. "Thank you seven, there's only one more detail left, it's awkward that my stepson and I are only two years apart, remember what he said when they announced our engagement." He let go of my hand and we both sat on my bed.

Yes, and it was very rude of hers.— We sighed.

I didn't know how to feel about it and the thing is that Aegon from what little I know him was right, "He's my age, how is that possible, at least 5 years older than me", I heard him roar, looking at my father with disgust and to his, if I could do that I would have done it too, that same day Otto Hightower congratulated me, his look was disappointed, it is not strange he practically took the place from his daughter who at that moment was her the only one looking at us was a look of complicity, sadness, desolation but above all fraternity, she was my age when she had Aegon, then Helaena and Aemond, both children congratulated me warmly and coldly, respectively.

»»————- -ˏˋ : ♛︎ : ଂ————-««

A week later…

After that day, my life went so fast that I didn't know what day it was, the wedding was fast, embarrassing and the tournament was the bloodiest so far.

Erryk did everything possible to ignore me, the person in charge of my security was the one at the request of my father, it is worth saying that he strictly prohibited me from talking about that guard and our old relationship, on the other hand Aegon is kinder and more understanding, I can't say much about Aemond who rarely sees us, Helaena spends it in my chambers, both the king and I are in separate Chambers, on the other hand Alicent had asked me to speak two days after the wedding.

Lina, walk faster.— my dress was blue with black, my hair was braided, revealing a braid that reached my thighs, a small tiara with a shell was on my head.— wait.— I exclaimed at the moment of this catch up with me.— I hate nerves.— I looked at both sides of the hall.— If he found out about Erryk and me?, will they think he is here for me?— My eyes showed terror or something like that because Lina placed her hand on my shoulder.

Don't say that even in a whisper.— she hugged me, to then look at that guard who was 6 steps from us.— the walls hear and can misinterpret your words.

We separated and continued walking more slowly and laughing on the tapestries, lina stayed behind and that servant from Dorne, guided me to where Ella was, Alicent was taller than me, curly hair, reddish, green eyes, you could tell she was always she had been so beautiful, my predecessor, she smelled of jasmine and vanilla, she also had a royal guard, being. Criston Cole, she had seen him a few days ago talking to Cargyll, they both stayed outside the room.

Darling!” she exclaimed as if she were his favorite person, we were two meters away, for obvious reasons.

I looked down when he spoke to me, I stupidly bowed. "My queen, how has she been?" .- Stupid, I told myself, you are also the queen.

You don't need to do that, we're both queens.— Then I turned my gaze to hers, I could only think, what concept she had of me, perhaps this invitation was because she liked me or simply hypocrisy.— Sit down, they're bringing you wine .

"Do not eat or drink what the Hightowers give you", my father had warned me, before leaving, and it was that he did not hurt to take care of his youngest daughter, especially when a rival member is a carrier of a lethal disease.

My parents were of Valyrian blood, therefore I was too, but even so they did not want to risk it, it is understandable my father had made trips to Valyria so carefully, that his stories left me Horrified. — How do you feel about your life at home? .

Sitting at that table, I looked at the tablecloth which had a tower with a flame embroidered on it. "Very good, well I guess." A nervous laugh left my mouth.

The talk continued like this until I saw a collapsed Alicent. "To be honest, I wanted to ask you a huge favor." I just nodded my head and she continued. "Could you take care of Aemond and Helaena? My sweet little man is just a child who needs to his mother, but as you know I have this disease, he is a quiet but withdrawn child, while Helaena, she is my sweet girl, she loves insects.— She was a mother who cared for her children, seeking help to raise them.— As you know, the king ignores them.

I've seen little, but yes.— I interrupted her, by mistake.

I just smile, continuing. "You'll realize that the king only has eyes for his eldest daughter and grandchildren, he has abandoned my children so much." He didn't know what to do, Alicent had started crying. "This is more." It is evident that he is going to abandon them one more time.— His hand was on his mouth and nose revealing wound marks, "like mine" I thought to my miasma.

Alicent, don't worry, I can take care of your three children, the best I can, if I were in your place I would also ask for the same thing.— She looked at me for the last time, gratefully, she called one of her girls to give the order to take all the things of her three children to the wing where the king had accommodated me, sixth floor to the left, one floor below her, but above Rhaenyra who ignored me, with her children, except my brother and her It is worth mentioning that we both had extremely different ages.— I promise to pray for them and for you.— “Too much confidence” I reminded myself and I remembered my mother's scolding about the confidence that I dream of presenting sometimes.

Thank you my sweet queen.— We both said goodbye.

»»————- -ˏˋ : ♛︎ : ଂ————-««

Eight months later.

A month after taking care of Alicent's children and Rhaenyra's protests at this, Viserys had requested that the maesters check me and that's what happened.

Congratulations my queen, you are pregnant. — Of course my son was not created out of love, but obligation, but that did not matter that I was so happy about it, the bells rang day and night for two days, my parents traveled more frequently, They didn't like my closeness with my stepsons, but they tolerated it.

This can benefit us. — my mother told me. — you will not make the same mistakes as your predecessor and this is a great advance.

— I looked at my stomach, caressing it. — I know, only Rhaenyra keeps pointing me out as a traitor. — The last few months I had noticed the change of the heiress towards me, especially in my state and how I became so attached to her younger brothers. - On several occasions, I had to scold Laenor's children, because they made Aemond cry, she claims that I don't have to interfere. - I was furious, exalted. - But she can scold them. - I closed my eyes remembering the A bad moment that he had suffered the previous day at the hands of his stepdaughter/sister-in-law. — Aemond, in any case, has no mother, he sees her sporadically, the three of them are helpless, how could he abandon them.

Motherhood leaves you very sensitive.— The queen who never was responded, we both knew that Laena and I were polar opposites and that was what my mother remembered.

The weeks flew by until finally, my baby was born, it was at dawn, Viserys was the first to take it, naming our son Daeron Targaryen.

Sorry for my English 😰

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cinderswife · 4 months

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happy new year! as a treat, i have finished snow's outfits :D she's the last in the series after cinders and rose :3 as always, lore under the cut!

nude

much like cinders, snow was designed to be in compliment to rose! we know from the album that she was beautiful and had long black hair but beyond that i wanted to make sure she looked like she could feasibly be rose's sister. she is also a bear girl <3

snow is fat! it was very important to me that she was fat with stretch marks and still extremely beautiful. so, here she is !!

i gave her a beauty mark because it's very classic hollywood beauty

you also probably couldn't actually see her tail at this angle because tiny bear tail but its so cute!

since this is pre becoming general white, she's a lot softer and gentler than her sister

fun fact: snow is actually her middle name but nobody ever calls her by her first name adelaide ever

also. this woman is so busy do you think she has the time to think about her gender and sexuality ever

dressing gown

snow is exceptionally wealthy and powerful so of course she has a monogrammed silk dressing gown. she doesn't actually wear it to sleep; she overheats way too quickly so she wears very little to bed.

entering the first appearance of snow's favorite color to wear: light blue!

yes, snow is wearing a wedding ring. since she's 29 and the head of a noble house, i figured she would be married. it was an arranged marriage to darr, the youngest child of some count somewhere because ze is entirely unambitious and willing to let snow do her thing

they also have a son together. his name is eret, he is 3, he looks up to auntie rose a little too much, his favorite animals are snakes and penguins, and he will quote space-disney at you incessantly.

duchess work dress

snow is the grand duchess of the duchy of delinore. she is the only grand duchess in the entire empire; this is the title that is equivalent to crown prince. yes she is technically his majesty king cole's heir due to being the current hereditary grimm on the throne of delinore. this is mostly a ceremonial fact since his majesty is immortal. delinore is 12 inhabited planets large and covers an entire star system which makes her perhaps the most powerful woman in the galaxy. snow is very tired all the time.

i was watching disney's snow white while designing this and the next outfit; i really like the blue and yellow look on her

this is a modular outfit! she can put on and take off the vest and cape depending on how formal she needs to be.

snow wears a lot of jewelry. this earring and necklace set was an anniversary present from her spouse!

the silver circlet atop her head is that of the duchess. you'll see it in almost every other outfit afterwards; it's like a wedding ring but for her noble status

court of stars

as his majesty's heir, snow is required to take part in the irregular meetings of his majesty's inner court: the court of stars. much of the lesser laws are handled by the council of stars and the other, lesser nobility. full disclosure: snow fucking hates this. she uses her position to do much good in the world and views his majesty like an extremely shitty and powerful grandfather she has to put up with in order to do what she needs to do. if the wedding day slaughter hadn't happened, she would still have eventually caused his death through an insane game of "political assassination cat and mouse." Y'know, different from the war.

this is the evil queen type fit. i just wanted to draw her as an evil queen okay

lorewise, this is the ceremonial outfit of her status tailored to her feminine appearance. black and red cape, deep purple dress, shiny gold jewelry, all designed to be as evil as possible

the bear clasp is the same as rose's! its the grimm family's symbol (cuz. they're all bears lol)

the dress sparkles like stars

she absolutely didn't have to go this hard with the makeup but she had fun with it. a small relief when dealing with his majesty

basically i just went really hard on the star motif

the crown is the ceremonial black iron crown of the grand duke that only ever comes out in court meetings. it's a smaller version of his majesty's black iron crown. its really heavy :(

casual

the return of the blue and yellow! this is snow's favorite color combo to wear ever <3

snow likes to wear pants when she doesn't have to deal with the many duties of being the grand duchess. it's her casual fit!

this particular set of jewelry has the snowflake motif. it's extremely on the nose which is why she likes it.

i dunno what tank tops with the extra shoulder straps are called but i thought it suited her <3

she would fully wrestle rose in this fit btw. she wouldn't win but it'd be fun!

ballgown

snow's ballgown for wearing to formal events (that she typically hosts). technically she owns a lot more, but this one is representative of her usual style. the bodice is typical, though it is a bit risque because it has no sleeves. the skirt is even moreso but she pulls it off because of her status and because she is commonly named the most beautiful woman in all the galaxy.

i thought it would be fun to put her in red! its such a loaded color in ouatis but she really pulls it off

and here's the light yellow she's so fond of <3

the boots are big and shiny and quite excessive; fully a display of wealth (especially since she's showing them off)

the drape of her skirt, rather than being modest and layered like cinders', is very form fitting and attention grabbing even without the slit

she would put her hair up but i did not have the patience to try and redraw her hair more than i had to lol

the gold jewelry she wears is big and heavy and almost armor-like. she likes it a lot

she put glitter on her makeup for this one <3

#the mechanisms #ouatis #once upon a time in space #once upon a time (in space)#snow ouatis #planet's doodles #planet's worldbuilding #snow my beloved snow she is so. <3 #verse: dog star in ursa major

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sunnytarg · 1 year

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Okay hear me out on this one but what about being Princess Rhaenys’ mistress? How does Rhaenys treat her or do Corlys try and get in on it?

Some Princess Rhaenys appreciation! The queen of my heart ❤️

Rhaenys her husband takes lovers while away at sea. She knows without him telling her that he has had many women to warm his bed while away from driftmark.

The thought of taking on a lover of her own had crossed her mind from time to time but she never acted on it. That was until she saw a beautiful women in Kings Landing whilst visiting her cousin. By the way she was dressed and the way she smiled at men as they walked past the building she was leaning on, Rhaenys knew she was a whore.

It didn’t take her long to decide to cross over and approach the woman who blinked up in surprise to be met with the Princess Rhaenys. She was even more surprised when the Princess handed her a bag that was worth far more than the one night she requested.

Rhaenys had not intended it to go further than that one night but after spending the whole night tasting every part of the other woman’s body and being ate out repeatedly by her Rhaenys offered the woman a job as a personal maid to herself in Driftmark.

It didn’t take long for the woman to agree to the Princesses offer. After all, why be a whore and fuck several people for the same amount she could make by being a “personal maid” for the Princess.

The first thing Rhaenys does when she and her new mistress arrive in Driftmark is to sit on the throne and have her new lover eat her out. Having this new woman between her thighs is almost as good as dying Meleys. Having her soft hands grip her thighs and her tongue delving in and out of her wet cunt and her moans make her feel like she’s flying and sinking in pleasure all at the same time.

They eventually settle into their roles. Rhaenys ruling over Driftmark as her husband is away and her mistress relieving her stress when she comes to her at night.

When Corlys eventually does return home from the sea he immediately notices the new addition to his household. The woman is very clearly not from Driftmark and is not a Velaryon. She is beautiful, though, and the dress of red satin is so low cut and tight that it leaves little to the imagination.

After he beds his wife after months at sea and sees that she has fallen asleep he leaves his room in search of this new mysterious woman. When he finds the room she’s in he’s in slight shock. When he asked a passing servant who she was the answer was that she was a new maid but no maid would be given clothes so fine, jewelry so rich and a room so large.

The woman wakes with a start when Corlys enters the room. He immediately notices the night dress she’s wearing and thinks she’d be better off sleeping in nothing. The nightgown is so sheer that he can not on see her breasts and her harden nipples but the patch of hair at the apex of her thighs.

He hardens immediately at the sight of her.

“Who are you?”

“The Princesses personal maid, my lord.”

The way she bows her head makes him want to grown. “You must be a very good maid to my wife to have such fine things.”

“The Princess enjoys my services.” She says and Corlys can’t tell if he is imagining a blush blooming on her cheeks.

He unties his breeches and the woman watches him the whole time. Not stopping him but not moving to help either, “let’s see if I enjoy your services as much.”

The next morning Rhaenys comes to offer a good morning to her lover. She’s not one to feel guilty but she does about not visiting her last night because ever since her lover has joined her here there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t spent the night with her mistress. Whether they have sex or not.

When she enters the room her lover is laying naked and asleep in her bed and Rhaenys can feel her heart swelling at the sight of the beautiful woman. She has grown so very fond for her.

She sits on the bed beside her and dances her fingers across her smooth skin. Her lover blinks up at her and at the sight of her Princess she smiles. It’s then that Rhaenys sees the bruise on her lovers hip. A frown finds its way on her face. She knows she didn’t leave that there.

When she asks what happened, her lover tells her that the lord Corlys had come into her room last night and had taken his pleasure from her. When Rhaenys’s frown deepens her lover quickly tries to relieve any anger, “I am a whore, my love, I am used to the way men are.”

Rhaenys turns her hard look on her liver and says, “You are no longer a whore. You are mine.” Rhaenys grabs her chin and pulls her in for a kiss and pulls away slightly to say more quietly. “You are mine to please and to have. Corlys and any other man or woman to touch you again, I will feed to my dragon.”

Suffice to say, after she leaves her lover to bathe she goes to her husband and as a talk that frightens him enough not to even think of the new member of their household.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd #princess rhaenys #rhaenys velaryon #Rhaenys x reader #Rhaenys x oc #corlys velaryon #Princess Rhaenys mistress

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hesthermay · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 (𝐏𝐓 𝟏)

PAIRING: obi-wan kenobi x fem!oc reader

SUMMARY: the shrill sound of blaster fire, red and blue shots of light cutting through the deep fog. the call of a trooper to his general, voice almost blending in with the chaos filling her ears. a blue lightsaber, illuminating the form of a quick and nimble jedi. copper hair, soft and somehow still shiny, as her fingers carded through the strands in the dead of night. flashes, these were—visions and dreams plaguing the goddess of the sun; the sun witch; whatever she may be called. viarruh finnall, the queen of orret, knew she was meant to do more for the galaxy, meant to be out there and meant to be with someone, and with the help of a dear friend that is exactly what will happen.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, slight angst? female oc, use of she/her, mentions of death, soulmate trope, eventual fix it fic. the clone wars time period.

NOTES: this oc and story has been living in my head for actual months. i love viarruh, and i sincerely hope you all do too! her and obi <3 ugh <3 there will be more to this story, i can’t say how many parts bc i’m honestly just winging it but it will follow the clone wars timeline, but it should be alright if you haven’t seen the show. also! i am planning on posting this story to my wattpad! if there are any inaccuracies or things that aren’t quite right, i’m doing my best! but i’m also flying by the seat of my pants so! oops! anyways feedback is always appreciated love u pookies

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

It was quiet in the Jedi Temple, the long corridor leading to the council room almost deserted; save for the four occupants huddled together.

Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala stood side by side as they attempted to offer small comforts to the pair before them. Time seemed to drag on as they all waited, tucked away next to a large column to retain as much privacy as possible, and nerves were understandably growing stronger.

“Just don’t look at him,” the Jedi Knight offered, holding his hands up as if the answer was so simple. He could not be faulted much, however, because he stuck around even when he had no reason to.

“Don’t look at him? I dream about him every night and you expect me not to look at him?” The woman across from him questioned, incredulous words filling the small space of their circle as her sculpted brows furrowed.

“Ani,” Padme sighed, shooting him a small smile nonetheless.

“I think what the General means,” the last member of the group interjected, his low voice easing his companion’s nerves ever so slightly. “Is that when you give your speech, do not focus on him too much. It will only distract you, and…” he drawled, words sounding like a question.

“...it’s something we can unpack later,” the woman finished with a nod, filling her lungs with air before exhaling.

“Good, very good, my dear.” Aged hands squeezed her shoulders before her attention was drawn elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the form approaching them from afar, and it was familiar to her, but it was not the man she was stressing over.

It was a Kel Dorian, a Jedi the woman had seen more than once in her visions. When he was within earshot, the woman hesitated before she opened her mouth. “Koh-to-yah, Master,” she greeted, attempting a small smile. A small effort, a metaphorical hand outstretched to make a good impression, and the man stopped in his tracks upon hearing her. It was difficult to read him due to the mask covering his face, but he bowed his head in return. A choice, to accept the hand.

“Koh-to-yah, Your Majesty,” his deep voice replied, before he continued the short trek to the council room.

“Okay, it shouldn’t be too long now that Master Plo is here,” Anakin explained. “I promise, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

There was no time to reply to him, for the doors opened and the Jedi from before, Master Plo, stepped out. “You may enter, Your Majesty. I do apologize for the wait.” He held out one arm clad in armor, and the woman detached herself from her support group with one last glance.

“Oh, no apology needed, Master,” she assured, voice soft as she passed him and crossed the threshold into the large room. Before her sat every member of the Jedi Council, some in person, some over holocall, but they all gazed upon her in a daunting semi-circle.

Her eyes zeroed in on him immediately, breath catching in her throat and heart freezing in her chest. Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his copper hair that shone in the sunlight that streamed through the many windows, was somehow even more perfect in person than in her dreams, and she did not know how that was possible.

She hoped that her face didn’t give her away, cursing herself for the falter in her stride when they made eye contact. She dismissed it, told herself to give no thought to the way it looked as if the man struggled just as much upon seeing her. That was impossible, a trick of the mind; for she was only human after all.

The young woman was suddenly aware of every aspect of herself, from the way her dress lay as she stood in the middle of the room to how heavy the crown she often wore felt on that day.

“A pleasure to see you, it is, Viarruh Finnall,” came the croaky voice of Master Yoda, and so that was where she chose to focus her eyes as she forced herself to remain calm.

“The pleasure is all mine, I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to hear me out,” she smiled, as polite as ever in a formal meeting. She did not have much experience with Jedi, but she did have some when it came to being a Queen.

“Of course,” the man sat next to Yoda replied, his hands clasped before him. “What can we help you with, Your Majesty?”

Viarruh took another deep breath, gathering her bearings before she dove into the explanation she could only hope she delivered in a clear and concise way. Her hands reached down and fluffed her dress slightly as her lips parted, nerves shoved to the back of her mind. “How much do you know of my planet’s culture?”

A moment passed in silence, her eyes flitting from one Jedi to the next, before she continued. “Or, more specifically, how much do you know about my family?” Another beat of silence, and she began her little walk around the circle she stood in, movement helping to disperse the nerves buzzing throughout her. “In my family, the crown is passed down from Queen to Queen, traditionally mother to daughter; and that is because we possess something that I understand to be somewhat similar to the Force,” she paused, eyes landing on Obi-Wan subconsciously. He was stoic as ever, hand raised to cover his chin as he listened, and was little comfort in the moment.

“It’s ancient, older than old, and it’s…” she laughed slightly, arms moving about as she spoke. “It’s magic. That’s the only word for it. Some have called us goddesses of the sun, others have called us sun witches; regardless of that, we are capable of things normal humans cannot do. We have a connection to the sun and possess abilities that aid us in protecting our planet, our people. Traditionally,” she sighed, “mother would teach daughter how to use and strengthen these abilities, but I have been without my teacher for quite some time. I haven’t had my master to help me, I’ve been on my own with only the light to guide me in the right direction, and I will not lie to you all. There are things I still don’t know about myself, things I’m still learning. This magic, it only grows stronger as time passes, just as I do, and I have not mastered much yet.”

“Magic?” Someone questioned from behind Viarruh, and she twirled around to face the man. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but magic is not real.”

This reaction was not one Viarruh was unfamiliar with. The condescending tone in the Cerean’s voice did nothing but roll off her back like water. Just as she was about to respond, someone beat her to it. A few seats away, a Togrutan woman illuminated in blue as she called from wherever she resided, addressed her colleague. “Master Mundi, perhaps we should keep an open mind, this galaxy is bigger than you might think.”

The man, Mundi, as it turned out, grumbled to himself but settled into his seat nonetheless. A small smile stretched across the queen’s face, and she lit up with an idea. “On the contrary, Master Mundi,” she raised a finger, and spun around to find the beams of light trickling into the circular room. “Magic is real, and I can show you.”

She stepped forward, hand outstretched before it was enveloped in the streams of warmth. Not a moment later, the light began to shimmer around her hand, golden sparkles covering her skin even after she pulled away. She held it up to show everyone, eyes flitting down the line of people before they settled on Master Plo. The grin she shot him was, all things considered, tame compared to her usual mischievous smirk, but the man did not know that. As the woman floated towards him, all he could think of was Ahsoka Tano, and how she must be a copycat for she looked almost the same when a plan formed in her mind.

When she finally stood before him, slender fingers were placed on his forehead and the still glittering light showered down and covered his entire body. Warmth filled him to the brim, as if the sun itself was beating down on a summer’s afternoon, and his eyes shut momentarily. When they opened again, Viarruh was still standing before him, hands at her sides but giving him a hopeful look. “Fascinating,” he mused, and the woman chuckled before bowing her head and returning to her spot. Behind her back, Plo made eye contact with Yoda before he nodded just once.

“That,” Viarruh began again, “was only a simple trick, but I feel a good example of how real my connection with the sun is. Recently, it seems I have…unlocked something. A new ability, something I had seen my mother deal with but not something she ever had the chance to help me with. I have been having visions and dreams,” she explained, face serious as she grew closer to the heart of her speech, the real reason she had called upon the Council.

“And they are only getting stronger and more persistent. Every day, now multiple times each, my mind is taken over and my eyes glow golden and all I can see is this war. I have seen it all,” she stressed, nodding her head a few times at the disbelief on some of the master’s faces. “The assassination attempts on Senator Amidala’s life, the Battle on Geonosis,” she listed, eyes wide. “I’ve seen a handful of you fight in battles, seen you risk your lives against swarms of droids. And I see myself, too; fighting with you, helping you and your men bring this closer to an end one day at a time.”

The room was so silent, one could’ve heard a pin drop, if anyone dared to move a muscle, that is. Every Jedi sat frozen in their seats, eyes all trained on the woman in the center of the room, and for a moment she felt like prey being stalked by predators. But she could not afford to let that get to her, let it throw her off her game because she was in too deep now to back out, to lose.

“I know, I know it sounds absurd, but it’s the truth. I have never been so certain about anything in my entire life, as I am about the fact that I am meant to do something in this war. I can feel it in my bones,” her fists clenched to emphasize her words, eyes boring into each and every person they landed on. “I believe that every person in this galaxy has a purpose, something they are meant to do, either for themselves or someone else; and I know in my heart of hearts, in every crevice of my mind, that I am meant to fight with you. My entire life, I have always had an intuition that rivaled anyone around me; sometimes I just know things and I am seldom wrong. I have never been led to believe I cannot trust my emotions, and that is how I know these visions mean something. I see with more than eyes.”

Her feet stopped moving, planting themselves in the dead center of the circle she had been pacing with toes pointed right at Master Kenobi. “Please,” she breathed. “You have to believe me, have to trust me that this is meant to happen.” His blue eyes bore into her, and she could not find it in herself to look away from them. If anyone in this room believed her, it had to be Obi-Wan. He had to know that she saw things beyond herself, that she thought of him every day and maybe, just maybe, she could tell him that she also dreamt of him every night. During the day, it was battles and clones, lightsabers and blaster fire; but at night, it was him. Moments of sneaking affection, fingertips brushing fingertips, late night conversations where no prying eyes could catch them, kisses, soft and sweet and sacred in their secrecy.

When she finally did break contact, flashes of his laughing face being pushed to the side, she looked to Master Yoda. “I love my job, and I love my people, but it eats away at me sitting in that castle instead of being out there.” Her voice shook under the severity of her emotions, the weight of her words and what they meant too heavy to hold steady in front of the audience. “I am absolutely riddled with guilt every time I see a clone fall, or a Jedi get cut down, and I know I can’t save everyone but I know I could do something.”

It had been a long while of Viarruh being the only one speaking, everyone else sitting in silence as she spilled everything that had been occupying her mind for months, so when she finally concluded her speech there was a pregnant pause, a swallowing quiet that left a pit in her stomach. This was it, she had nothing left to add to change their minds, should they send her away with her insane claims and delirious visions. She knew full well how crazy her request was, to want to fight in a war when her days consisted of royalty and sunshine, but it was about doing what was right, not what was easy.

A croaky voice broke the silence, bringing all eyes to a green Jedi huddled in his chair. “Thank you, I do, for coming forward with your visions. Frightening, it is, to share something unknown.” His head bowed slightly, ears moving with him. “Some time, we will need, to discuss things. From the temple, stray not, please.”

Relief, in its purest form, washed over her when his words registered. She was not being sent away with no thought to what she had to say, she was not laughed at for the emotion she showed.

“Of course,” she answered, bowing her head as well. “Thank you for your time. I shall be with General Skywalker in the meantime.” With that, she turned to make her exit, eyes lingering on a copper haired Jedi just a moment longer than they should have before her feet carried her across the room and over the threshold. Behind her, the doors shut and her shoulders slumped, closing her eyes while the sounds of shuffling feet filled her ears.

“Well?” Padme urged, unsatisfied with the lack of information being given.

“They listened to you, didn’t they?” Anakin fired immediately after, and Viarruh was struck with how similar they could be. Two peas in a pod, they were.

The young woman nodded her head, careful to mind the headpiece she wore once it bumped on the wall behind her. “Yes, they listened. No, Obi-Wan didn’t speak to me,” she answered, already knowing those were the two hot questions burning on everyone's minds. “Master Yoda said they would need time to discuss things, and not to stray from the temple.”

“Well, that’s good,” the eldest member of the group pointed out, aged face displaying a hopeful expression. “They could have said no and sent you home, but they’re considering.”

“Ellman’s right,” Padme interjected, face serious now that the first step of their plan was completed. It was only just a day ago that they wondered if they would even be able to do it, and here they were with one foot out the door already. “Now, should they say yes we need to have all of our points laid out for when we speak to the Chancellor. I have everything in my office in the Senate building.”

“I shall accompany you,” Ellman offered, his role as the queen’s main advisor ever present.

“Perfect. Ani, you stay here with Vi while we’re gone, and comm me when they bring her back in.”

“You got it,” he grinned down at her, and her business face melted for just a moment before she had to look away.

“And don’t get into any trouble, you two,” she warned, finger pointed at her husband before going to her best friend.

“Pads, we’re in a sacred temple, what kind of trouble could we possibly find?”

-: ✧

“Is that all you’ve got, Your Majesty?”

Although Viarruh had seen him in her visions, she had never met the young man who had captured her friend’s heart, and so she was not yet prepared for how arrogantly taunting Anakin Skywalker could be. He was caring, that much she could see; he had done his best to help with her pre-meeting jitters and now, was occupying her during her wait at the Jedi Temple. And yet, his voice carried across the sparring room with a challenging lilt curling around the words, solely meant to egg her on.

“Be careful what you wish for, General,” she warned, eyes bright and sharp and lips pulled into a smirk that only screamed trouble. Her hand shot out and in it formed a staff, appearing in a flash of light right before Anakin’s very eyes, though he still blinked a couple times as his mind attempted to catch up with what had happened. When he finally brought his attention back to the present, he only had moments to duck before the staff made contact with his face. Whatever it was made of, it did not appear to weigh her down as she moved with a frightening grace; and it stood up against a sword meant to cut through anything. She was capable, challenging, even, but she would need more training if she wanted to join them in battle. This was made clear to them both when the match ended with Viarruh’s staff on the ground some feet away from her and the blue blade of a lightsaber pointed right at her throat.

“I suppose you win this round, Skywalker,” she conceded, hands raising in surrender. Just as her opponent went to reply, most likely another boast, he was interrupted by the sound of clapping. Their heads turned in unison, and their eyes widened together just the same. The blade disappeared into the hilt of the saber and the heat fled from her neck, though it returned not a moment later as she registered who she was looking at.

Stood by the entrance was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hands coming down to clasp behind his back. “Impressive,” he mused, and the sound of his voice meeting her ears in person nearly knocked her over, but she remained steady as he started moving towards them. “It seems I taught my padawan well.”

“Yes,” she replied after realizing that Anakin’s silence was a push for her to speak up. “It seems so.” Her eyes cut to the man beside her, and he knew he would be in trouble later.

“And you, Your Majesty, are quite the fighter. I didn’t realize how frightening you could be.” By now, Obi-Wan was in front of the pair, looking at them with crystalline eyes. Viarruh tried not to think about how she looked at the moment; their fight had been long and was easy by no means, and she could feel the sweat gathered on her brow all the more under his gaze. She knew her hair was a mess on her head, having been knotted when she hastily removed the crown, and she didn’t dare look down to see if her dress was crumpled and crooked. She only prayed to Maker that it wasn’t as she stared right back at him.

“It comes in handy,” she quipped, heart skipping a beat in her chest when his smile widened.

The moment, if it could even be called that, was shattered when Anakin finally decided to make his presence known once again. “So, Master, what can we do for you?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t seem to want to leave the woman before him, but they eventually flicked to his former student, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. “Ah, yes, the Council wishes to speak with you again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, just let me grab my things and we’ll be on our way,” she smiled, before turning to her new friend. “General, would you please comm Senator Amidala and Advisor Ellman while I speak with the Council?” She had already started to walk away from the men when the answer came, and she did not have to look at him to know he was grinning at her.

“Yes, yes, I can do that, Your Majesty.” She turned to squint at him, hands running through her long strands when, to her horror, he started to walk towards the exit. “I will go do that right now.”

Her fingers forced themselves to resume their movements as she turned away again. She found herself alone with the man she believed to be her soulmate, as if her nerves needed anything else to buzz over. When she did spin around to face him, he was already looking at her. Her cheeks burned even more, but in spite of it she held her hands out, gesturing vaguely to the crown now on her head as she made her way back to him. “Look good?”

Once again, words seemed to stick in Obi-Wan’s throat when her eyes were on him. He stuttered slightly in his reply, and cursed himself silently. “Yes. Looks good,” he nodded, suddenly shy in front of the queen. “To the council room?”

Viarruh was intuitive, and on top of this particularly beneficial trait, she also read people for what they were. Not much got past the Queen of Orret, and so she dared to let herself believe that what she saw was, indeed, true.

Obi-Wan was nervous.

“Lead the way, Master,” she smiled, swallowing her chuckle when she noticed the shade of pink dusting over his cheeks as he led her out of the room.

The corridor was long and dimly lit, the evening sun casting a golden hue across the walls and floors, and though her shoes were the only noise for the beginning of their walk, Viarruh had started to settle into herself; muscles relaxing and mind easing as she felt the warmth of the man next to her. They were not touching, not even close enough to brush arms, but she still felt him. For a moment she wondered if this would only make her miss him more when he was no longer around her, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her she was a fool to think it wouldn’t.

“Your Majesty?”

Her heart still skipped a beat when his accent rang in her ears, but she was no longer fighting for breath and composure. He was comfortable to be around, she had decided.

“Oh, please, Viarruh is fine,” she assured, smiling at him in an attempt to prove to him that it really was fine.

He hesitated for a moment, but not a second later did he nod his head before flicking his eyes over to meet hers. “Viarruh,” he corrected, and oh, Maker, her name had never sounded so pretty. “May I ask you something about your visions? I know you are to speak with the Council about them, but I was wondering if you could tell me when they started?”

“Uhm,” she stalled, remembering back to the first vision she ever had.

She had just settled down in the plush and intricate chair sat at her desk, fully intending to complete some work in the late hours of the night, for something had been nagging her though she could not figure it out. It had kept her awake when she laid down to sleep, and so she had eventually wandered her way around the castle and ended up in her office. But as she reached for the holopad she felt…funny. A feeling washed over her, starting at the crown of her head and showering down to the tips of her toes, and it had happened so fast she hadn’t had any time to react before breath stuck to the back of her throat and eyes glowed bright like the sun that hung in the sky. Her lips were parted but only quiet choking sounds escaped her as her head fell backwards, face pointed to the high ceiling but she was not really looking.

No, her mind was taken over and it was like she wasn’t even in her office anymore. Instead, she was on Coruscant, stood in the darkened bedroom of her best friend. She could not move, she could not speak, only watch as insect-like creatures crawled towards Padme’s sleeping figure. Could only watch as two Jedi burst into the room, blue blade illuminating the darkness as one of them cut the creatures in half.

It ended there, whatever it was that had happened to her. Her eyes slammed shut before snapping open, air rushing into her lungs as she gasped, almost falling forward onto the desk in front of her. With a heaving chest she did her best to push herself up from her seat on shaky arms before she dashed out of the room. Bare feet carried her to the meeting room where she punched in Padme’s comm code, and she anxiously waited for her face to appear in blue, but cried out in frustration when there was no answer.

Worry prickled at every nerve and dread had settled in her feet, making it hard to even move her legs as she rushed to the only room she could think of; Ellman’s. She couldn’t move fast enough, tripping on the ends of her sleep gown numerous times, and she practically flew into his door. She was gasping, mind racing over every possibility as her fists bangs on the door, and she didn’t know how she was still standing by the time the man answered the door.

His eyes were squinted as he tried to make out who was in front of him, and in her frenzy Viarruh almost yelled at him, but there was no time to raise her voice as words spilled out with no end. They were frantic and jumbled together, and it was the alarm bells it set off in his mind that fully awoke him. “Viarruh? Viarruh! What is it?”

His questions fell on deaf ears, and strong hands tightly grasped her shoulders. “Viarruh, calm down! I need you to breathe!” He shook her a few good times, successfully putting an end to the stream of panic falling from the woman’s lips. Her eyes were wide as they finally focused on him, and she was slightly trembling in his hold.

It was a rarity for the queen to get so startled, handling her nerves well on any other day despite the horrors of her childhood, but that was not the case on this particular night. “Vi, what happened?”

“It’s Padme, I—I saw something and when I commed her, she didn’t answer, and—”

“Slow down,” he urged. “What do you mean you saw something?”

“I was in my office, and s—something happened, it was,” she stuttered, shaking her head as she struggled for words. “Do you remember when I told you I had a weird feeling earlier today? I couldn’t sleep, so I went to my office.”

“Was someone in there with you?” He interjected, but she shook her head again.

“No, no, it was just me; but I did see something. It was like…like a vision. I got this funny feeling and then I couldn’t breathe, it was like I was choking on nothing and then I couldn’t see.” Her hands fisted the front of his shirt, words speeding up again the more she spoke.

“You couldn’t see, but you saw something?”

“I’m being serious! It was like—like a vision! I was staring at the ceiling and then something happened to me and it was all gone, all I could see was the vision and I saw Padme!”

Viarruh did not catch on in the moment, perceptiveness dialed down in her vulnerable state, but Ellman seemed to be paying more attention now that she had revealed what she had experienced. His brows were furrowed as her words bounced around in his head, thoughts zooming this way and that as he thought back to when he was working for her mother, and all the things he’d witnessed her do and he remembered visions being one of them.

“What happened to her in this vision?” His voice was low and as serious as could be, no longer high pitched in worry, and in the darkness of the corridor his face was almost grave.

“There was something in her room, and it was crawling towards her while she slept and then two Jedi burst into the room! I tried to comm her when it ended but she didn’t answer, and that only makes me think something bad really did happen to her! Ellman, what if she’s in trouble? What’s happening?”

“Listen, listen,” he soothed, taking a half step closer. “This is because of your powers. Your mother had visions, but I can only imagine how frightening it was when so unexpected.”

“My mom had them?” she mumbled, wide eyes staring up at the closest thing to a parent she had.

“She did. I don’t know much, unfortunately, but I do know that this was going to happen eventually; you’re far too perceptive and just plain lucky to have it skip you. What it is, well, to my understanding it could be a number of things. The past, things that have already happened revealed to you; the present, seeing things as they happen in real life; and the future, though that is never a certainty. Things change, but you can see these things. Now, what you saw with Padme could be any of those things, I’m afraid I have no answers to give with that, but we will investigate more in the morning. More people are likely to answer our calls, and we will be of sound minds,” he assured, one hand coming up to smooth over the back of her head. “Please, My Lady, let me escort you back to bed.”

“With the assassination attempt on Padme’s life. The one you and Anakin were around for,” she answered, keeping it short and sweet.

“You saw it?”

“I did,” she nodded, fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he dismissed, looking away from her and she had a creeping suspicion that he was not telling the truth. Nonetheless, she nodded her head before allowing herself a moment to take him in. He wore the plastoid armor similar to that of the clone troopers over the top half of his robes, and his lightsaber hung off his waist, shining and magnificent. He was more handsome than any man she’d ever seen in all her life of travels and meetings, negotiations and balls. Stuffy princes didn’t hold a candle to him.

“I see,” she mused, voice verging on playfulness. It was nice speaking to him, actual conversations instead of snippets of exchanges captured in dreams. “Well, let me ask you, do you ever see things?” She glanced over him, brows raised and lips curling upwards.

Her question settled into Obi-Wan’s mind and debated how truthful he wanted to be with his response. All his time and energy went into the Jedi Order, and fighting this war. He was strong with the force and worked to keep his balance, and he was a clever and impressive General in the GAR; but from time to time he saw her. Not often, not as often as she had visions, it seemed, but when he got the rare moment of rest, he could hear her voice and almost make out her face. When in battle, surrounded by blaster fire and chaos, he sometimes felt her presence next to him, swearing he saw her and a warm glow in his peripheral, yet when he risked a glance she was nowhere to be seen. It had started when he overheard her speaking to Padme the morning after the attempt on the senator’s life, voice slightly distorted over the holocall but still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

But was this something he wanted to admit to? Something he wanted to reveal in the corridor of a Temple that frowned upon attachments? But to lie to her, the thought of it made his stomach churn for some reason.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he settled, voice almost far away. Viarruh tilted her head slightly, contemplating the thoughts behind his eyes before he cleared his throat, seeming to come back to her. “The Force works in mysterious ways,” he nodded, grinning when the woman chuckled.

“That, I can understand. Perhaps you see with more than eyes, just as I do, Master Kenobi.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, looking straight ahead as he prepared himself for his next comment. “Though I don’t think there is anyone quite like you out there.”

Obi-Wan, while pleasant to be around, was becoming almost flirty. His voice was smooth and his accent curled his words nicely, as sweet as honey. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she could not stop it, could not prevent a full on, toothy smile growing on her face. The doors to the council room were in sight, just up ahead, and she looked as unserious as she could possibly be.

“I think you’re right,” she whispered, turning to face him when they were only a few feet before the doors. “But the same could be said about you.” She cleared her throat, wiggling her arms a little to reset, now looking at her companion with determination. “Wish me luck, I’ve got to speak with the Jedi Council.”

“Now that you mention it, I have a meeting to attend. Good luck, Your Majesty.”

With that, the doors slid open and Viarruh made her way inside the large room once again, the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi following her. When she reached the middle of the circle, he passed her and settled into his seat, and the added distance between them lessened the ease she had previously felt. Nerves began to settle into her again, as even Obi-Wan’s demeanor changed to that of a more stoic man, a Jedi wise beyond his years sitting amongst the council.

“Your Majesty, we’d like to thank you again for coming to us to speak,” the bald man sat next to Master Yoda began, voice just as serious as it was before. It was difficult to read him as he spoke and she found little comfort in the way his face remained stoney. “The information you presented to us is much appreciated, and has caused lots of discussion within the Council. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all, Master…?”

“Windu, Your Majesty,” he answered, bowing his head.

“Master Windu,” she repeated, nodding her head at him with a small smile. “Ask away.”

“What is your goal?”

Vague. A broad question asked simply and to the point, and it caused the woman to tilt her head ever so slightly. “My goal?”

“Yes. What is your goal in all of this?”

“Well,” she sighed. “Short term, I suppose it’s to convince you all to help me do what I can to join the war,” she gestured vaguely with one arm, holding the other out as she spoke again. “Long term, to do what’s right. To make a difference. To help people. Is that not everyone in this room's goal?”

“We are bound by oath,” came the voice of Master Mundi, interjecting and almost cold. “We are warriors of peace and fight to bring balance back to the galaxy, per our oath to the Jedi Order.”

“I am also bound by oath,” she countered lowly. “I was born into a position of power. I’ve held it all my life, and when I was just fourteen standard years old I obtained the highest rank you could possibly get on most planets. The responsibility may not be the same as yours, but it is a great one nonetheless; to keep people safe, to represent them, to protect them, that is what I do. And the oath I made was to always do what is right, what I need to do regardless of whether it is easy or not, whether it makes sense or not. And the Clone Wars are hurting people, and the Republic’s enemy stands for things that I would rather die fighting than let become the status quo in our galaxy. We may live different lives, Master Mundi, but our goals are very much the same.”

“You are very dedicated to this,” a male Nautolan observed, and all eyes turned to him. “It’s easy to see that this means something to you. I believe you when you say that our goals are the same, but this is still a very unusual situation, Your Majesty,” he explained, frowning slightly towards the end of his sentence.

“It is, I know that,” Viarruh assured sincerely. “But as unusual as it is for you, it is the same for me.”

“Your visions, hear more about them, may we?” Yoda questioned, pointing a clawed finger in her direction.

“What would you like to know?”

“Are they of the future?” Someone else questioned.

“Not entirely,” she answered, shaking her head. “My understanding is that they are things revealed to me because they need to be. It could be something from the past, I can see things as they are happening, and sometimes I do see the future, but you all know as well as I do that the future is never set in stone. Prophecies and destinies aside, seeing a vision of something that should happen doesn’t always mean it will happen.”

“What is the extent of your powers? What can you do, exactly?”

“I can do lots of things,” she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “But I already told you that they’re still developing, I still don’t know what the extent is.”

“I saw a demonstration of Her Majesty’s abilities in the sparring room, and it was most impressive,” a familiar voice entered the conversation, backing her up as she stood under the eyes of the disbelieving. Her chest warmed as she caught his eye before they flicked to the next person to speak.

“Sparring room?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered smugly. “Her Majesty sparred with Anakin, and held her own for quite some time. I could only imagine what she would be like with just some formal training.”

Murmurs filled the room, soft and blended together, but she gathered that Anakin being her opponent was the hot topic. “Impressive, that is,” Yoda confirmed. “Needed, a demonstration is, perhaps.”

“I can give you a demonstration,” she promised, hand already coming up to point at the copper haired Jedi. Her palm faced upward, slender fingers curling slightly as she made miniscule movements. At first, no one was aware of what was happening, Obi-Wan being most confused of all, but then he felt a little tug at his belt. He looked down to see his lightsaber moving here and there, before it eventually lifted off his thigh and unhooked from his waist.

His mouth opened in shock, and he didn’t need to look to know he was not the only one, as they all watched his lightsaber float through the air, right into the hand of Viarruh Finnall. She ignited the weapon, blue blade shooting out from the hilt and bathing her in the cool hue. And because she lived for the dramatics, she twirled it around, a move that was like muscle memory to her, the whirring sounds of the energy blade filling the room. When she finished, she retracted the blade and her hand fell to her side.

“While I did lose my fight with Anakin Skywalker, I have won many more. I am not helpless, and I do not give up easily.” Her eyes bore into the council members one by one. “And I am not afraid, I was not built to be and cannot afford to be.” She continued to spin around, intending to make an impression on every person she looked at, and she knew it was successful from the look in each of their eyes. “Sometimes it is not enough to just be against darkness. If you have the ability to, should you not use the light?”

The severity of her tone and words had lodged itself in the chest’s of the Jedi Council, and before them stood not the naive queen they thought was coming to their planet. No, stood before them was Viarruh Finnall, Goddess of the Sun, the Sun Witch, Queen of Orret, in all her wisdom and confidence. She was passionate and unyielding, she was caring, and she was strong. This young woman, whatever she had gone through in her lifetime had made her tough enough to bear the weight of leadership, to dive head first into a war that she was never obligated to join, to look an evil in the face and stand steady against it.

“If we were to say yes,” Master Windu broke the silence, sharing glances with those around him. “What would be your next course of action?”

It took her a moment to calm herself, dispelling some of the intensity in her words as she turned to look at the man. “Well, should you say yes, I would need to speak with Chancellor Palpatine next. I chose to meet with you first because, although the Chancellor makes the final decisions, having you all to back me up would speak louder to him than I ever could on my own. You, of course, are not obligated to, but it would be most appreciated if I had someone to accompany me to speak with him; and depending on his answer, I will head home,” she explained with a note of finality, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Home?” Master Mundi interjected, leaning forward in his seat.

“Yes,” she answered simply, looking right at him.

“And what do you plan to do about your status as Queen while you fight in this war? You cannot do both.”

“I would give it up.” She stated, in such a way that it seemed the answer was obvious. It did not weigh heavy on her tongue as she spoke matter of factly, though it did put pressure on her chest, bones feeling as if they could cave in. “My birthday is in a matter of weeks, and though it may seem frivolous, celebrations are quite the talk back home,” she explained, flicking some hair over her shoulder as she resumed her movements around the center of the room. “I will use it as my opportunity to announce my retirement from the throne, and present who I have chosen to replace me; her coronation will come only days after. Then,” she shrugged. “I’ll go wherever you tell me to, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

It seemed, for a frightening moment, that she was unable to get through to them. They all stared at her, mouths closed with no intention of opening to speak to her, and her shoulders grew heavy, fighting to slouch forward as the feeling of defeat tickled at her bones. She held her breath, eyes flickering between the men in front of her. Obi-Wan held contact before he looked away, seemingly speaking to Master Yoda without using words, and she clutched the hilt of his lightsaber a little tighter, the metal warm from her hold on it throughout her speech.

As she glanced towards Master Plo, a frown almost dipping the corner of her lips downwards, she missed the nod Obi-Wan sent his elder, and the one following from Mace Windu. Her attention snapped back as a throat was cleared, and eyes had returned to her, though the tone had shifted ever so slightly. Almost indiscernible, it was, but she saw it and dared to let hope bloom in her chest.

“Speak to the Chancellor, we will. Tomorrow,” Master Yoda decided, sliding down from his chair, beginning to make his way towards the woman. “To your home, I will go with you. Train you, I will.” When he stood before her, large eyes gazing into hers, he placed one hand over the other on top of his staff as it stood in front of him and he was the picture of wisdom.

For a moment, she did not have any words. She had said so much since she’d arrived at the Jedi Temple, but now that she finally had an answer from them, she had nothing to offer the Council. She was frozen in her stare with the green Jedi, lips parting ever so slightly as his words rang in her ears. “Thank you,” she breathed, relief making her feel so light it almost lifted her off the ground below. She blinked a few times, gathering her bearings as reality began to set in that she had done it.

“Easy, it will not be, Viarruh Finnall,” he promised, shaking his head.

“The things worth doing usually aren’t, Master,” she replied, when the hole burning into her became too much and she looked up, meeting blue eyes already looking. Obi-Wan smiled at her, blowing his head in a silent congratulations, and she smiled. It was similar to the one he had managed to get from her in the corridor, and her success coupled with just knowing him now made it impossible to stop it.

Master Windu was the next to rise, the others following suit, and the tall man joined them in the middle of the room. “When we speak to the Chancellor tomorrow, you will have our full support. All we ask in return, is that you follow through with your word,” he explained, holding his hand out for her to shake.

When her hand slipped into his, enveloped by the gloved and armored one, a familiar feeling washed over her quicker than ever, and she gasped loudly, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. Obi-Wan pushed his way to the front, almost overwhelmed from how loud everyone’s voices were once they blended together in panic, before standing beside the woman but she was not seeing him. Her muscles tensed and her back straightened as she went rigid, fingers clamping around Windu’s hand tightly, and he attempted to pull away in alarm; it was a struggle, but he was eventually able to pry himself out of her hold as her eyes glowed brightly. Her brows were furrowed and breath was stuck in her throat and she looked almost pained, and it made Obi-wan’s heart clench in his chest. It alarmed him, how seeing her like this affected him, but there was no time to think about it as his hands grasped her shoulders.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” he called, shaking her slightly but she remained frozen, golden eyes staring past him. Even when he grasped her face in his large hands because the choking sounds escaping her as air tried to fight its way to her lungs were scaring him more, she didn’t see him. His thumbs pressed into her cheeks as he turned her head to face him, almost yelling at her. “Viarruh! Breathe!”

When this very thing happened at home, no one could get through to the woman after her eyes lit up and she stopped breathing; screams and yells falling on deaf ears as her mind was taken over, but as she watched herself creep through the forest with a squad of clones and Mace Windu at her side, a voice echoed from somewhere. Who it belonged to, she could not tell, but it was comforting in its familiarity and lifted the pressure from her chest; everything became clearer as if a layer of dirt and grime had been wiped away, the plastoid armor glinting in the sunlight of the trooper who passed her. Outside of the vision, the blockage was removed from her throat, ripped away as oxygen rushed into her, and light burst out of her.

It was as if they were no longer in the council room, the group of people huddled together now standing in the same forest of her vision. She did not know they were there, could not feel them still, but they saw everything she did as it projected from her. They watched as everyone trekked on, the only sounds being the crunching and rustling of foliage and the sounds of wildlife in the distance; as Viarruh faltered in her step, causing the soldier behind her to bump into her, pushing her forward a few steps. Though, it looked as if she had paid it no mind, instead holding her hands out as if to steady herself, eyes flickering around before landing on the Jedi ahead of her.

And they could only stare as Windu continued on, having not noticed the absence to his left, and Viarruh lurched forward to reach him quicker. “Mace, no!” she yelled, grasping his shoulder to throw his body backwards, pushing him and their squad away from the pressure bomb cleverly disguised; but that also meant she was the closest to the explosion. The onlookers flinched as they were surrounded by heat and light and the deafening blow, watching in horror as the queen flew through the air, rolling backwards when she collided with the ground. She didn’t move much after her body settled, but Obi-Wan could see the way her eyes were blown wide, not seeming to focus on anything as she blinked. She didn’t respond to the calls of her name, not even noticing the people slowly searching for her, the ringing in her ears blocking out everything around her.

It was Windu who found her, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as he walked up to her. “Viarruh,” he called, and it wasn’t until he saw movement to the side, and turned to see her leg poking through the tall grass. When he stood over her, he cringed slightly at the injuries he could see, and so did everyone else. Blood covered her face, dripping down from her hairline and smearing across her cheeks; parts of her shirt and vest were singed, still smoking, telling them she had burns as well. “Viarruh,” he tried again, and she only looked at him with wide eyes, giving him no indication that she heard him. He reached down with both hands, placing a couple fingers on her cheeks to move her head side to side, inspecting for anything else, and Obi-Wan was relieved to see nothing.

“Come on,” Windu grunted, picking her up and placing her on her feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he supported most of her weight. Then, the scene shifted, the same light as before filling the room before it all zapped into Viarruh, hitting her with a force strong enough to push her back a few steps when it collided with her chest, causing her to gasp loudly. Hands reached out to keep her upright, holding her steady on her feet as her eyes snapped shut before reopening, back to normal.

She was panting, gulping air down like she had been drowning, and the first thing she heard when she returned to the present was the worried voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his hands on her arms, having been the one to reach out to catch her. “Viarruh, are you alright?”

“That one was different,” she responded, shaking her head as her mind ran a mile a minute.

“Was that a vision?” Windu questioned, leaning closer to the woman.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes finally raising to meet those of the man that still cradled her. “But it was different, this one wasn’t the same as others.”

“Viarruh,” Obi-Wan called softly. “What do you mean by ‘it was different’?”

“Stronger, it was stronger,” she answered as the group of Jedi began to back away from her, giving her space now that she was back with them. “And I…could hear someone.” It confused her, left her wondering, because she had never heard anyone in her visions like that, never felt anything but alone as she lost control of herself.

“We didn’t hear anyone,” Mundi noted, looking around at the others. “Other than yourself and Master Windu.”

“Wait,” she jerked around, confusion growing more and more by the second. “Did you…did you all see that too?” She was met with nods from everyone, and she could only stand there in a stunned silence as her thoughts ran a mile a minute.

“Viarruh?” Obi-Wan questioned softly after there was still no response from the queen, and turned back around to face him.

“It…projected?” Her face was still twisted in disbelief, the events taking place sprouting question after question in her mind. The man nodded his head to answer her, raising his brows at her tone.

“Is that also newly unlocked?”

She had again looked away from him, eyes staring down at the floor as the dots began to connect, as the answers became clearer. “Yes,” she answered in a dazed voice. “It is.” It was the only reaction she could give him as realization dawned on her, showering over her as her gaze shifted upwards; it focused on the busy planet on the other side of the large windows, the sky turning a pleasant rosy orange as the day settled and plans were now in motion.

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