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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months

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Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Six

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy, childbirth, smut. Word count: ~3k

Chapter summary: Daemon makes two life changing discoveries. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Author's note: No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Header by the insanely talented @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

Maester Orwyle drops heavily to his feet once Daemon’s grip on the front of his robes loosens. He scurries away fearfully, scarcely even sparing a glance behind him.

Daemon’s temper still burns hot within his veins. How dare she hide this from me?

The force with which he throws open the doors would be enough to wake Melessa up ordinarily; but under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn’t be under the influence of milk of the poppy. Thus, she remains asleep.

He softens upon taking in her appearance, his anger leaving him as he watches her laying there. She’d look peaceful were it not for the tear tracks upon her cheeks—tears he has caused her. His wife.

The mother of his child.

She does not deserve his anger any more than he deserves her forgiveness, as much as he yearns for it. He sits carefully on the bed next to her, longing to reach out and brush his fingers against the peachy softness of her face. He refrains. She has expressed a wish for him not to touch her. He owes it to her to respect that, even in sleep.

Whether she is prepared to allow him to make amends now or not, he knows he cannot permit her to return to Highgarden. Not now that she carries his child. She has given him a reason to do better, to be better.

He wants to watch her grow round and full with his offspring, to see the effects that he has had on her body as it adapts to the life nestled within. He feels his cock stir at the thought and swallows thickly, attempting to push the urge away. Perhaps her shape had begun to change already and he hadn’t noticed. He finds himself thinking back to the last few times they’d been intimate. He had been so rough, so hurried, so desperate for fulfillment that he had barely registered her beneath him. If he had the opportunity to go back he would take his time with her, run his hands over her curves and appreciate them, notice the subtle swell to her breasts and the added plushness to her hips.

There is an ache in his chest as he continues to look upon her. He has to make this right. A child of his own is something Daemon has never thought about; never wanted, until now. And now, he does not think he has ever desired anything more desperately.

He has no idea how long he continues to sit there for. Soon, the sky is breaking into vibrant hues of yellow, orange and red upon the horizon, indicating dawn’s approach. He hadn’t seen Melessa eat since Rhaenyra’s coronation feast the previous afternoon. She will awaken soon and surely feel ravenous with hunger. Daemon cannot abide that, not when their child relies upon her nourishment.

Reluctantly, he rises from the bed and makes his way to the kitchens. There is plentiful food left over from the day before; he orders the few staff that are awake and working already to put together a platter. Salted meats, pies, bread, hard cheese and tarts are piled high upon the tray, enough to feed both him and Melessa for today and the day after that. He knows it is too much, but this is as much to prove a point as it is to give his wife breakfast. Even in the wrong, Daemon cannot resist the urge to maintain the element of surprise.

Melessa is stirring, sleepily rubbing her eyes as he re-enters her bedchamber, setting the heaped tray upon the foot of the bed. She sits up, her brow furrowing as she looks upon the food that’s been placed before her.

“What’s all this?” she asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Breakfast,” Daemon tells her with a smirk, leaning against the bedpost and folding his arms as he watches her.

“There is so much of it…” Her blue eyes glance up towards him before dropping back to the spread of food.

“Yes—I suppose there is,” he says. “It was tricky for me to know how much to have brought up to you… considering you are eating for two now.”

Her hand that had been reaching towards the food pulls suddenly back into her lap. She stares at him, brows raised in shock. “You know.”

It isn’t so much a question as it is a statement. Daemon simply nods, attempting to mask the satisfied smile that spreads across his face. He may have caught her out, but ultimately he is still in the wrong.

“How?” she asks, pressing her lips into a tight line.

“I caught Maester Orwyle sneaking out of your chambers in the middle of the night,” he tells her matter-of-factly.

“Oh gods. Daemon—what did you do to him?”

His wife knows him too well. He is unable to help the upward tug at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing he won’t recover from. Eat.”

Melessa sighs and reaches for a piece of bread, tearing it apart with her hands as Daemon resumes his earlier position beside her.

“How long have you known?” he asks after a few moments pass between them in silence.

“Since we arrived back in King’s Landing,” she replies between bites.

“And how long since you last bled?”

He can see her considering his question as she chews, trying to recall. “About three moons.”

Daemon can feel his mood darkening and draws in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. His voice is tight when he asks his next question. “And not once did it occur to you to tell me?”

“I was going to,” she begins softly. “There was so much going on already, with your brother passing away. I had planned to tell you after Rhaenyra’s coronation, but then…”

She trails off, her bottom lip trembling slightly and Daemon feels his heart squeeze at the sight.

“Then I fucked it all up,” he says sadly.

“Hm.” Melessa places her half eaten bread back on the tray, leaning back against the headboard. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you? Not now that you know.”

Daemon feels like he’d be serving another blow to her, to admit this aloud, true as it is. He wants nothing more than to comfort her, to pull her against his chest and breathe in the sweet scent of her golden hair.

“I need you to know that nothing happened…with that girl,” he tells her. “I won’t deny that I tried, and I cannot begin to explain why I did, but I couldn’t…because she wasn’t you, petal.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful?” she asks bitterly.

“No, but it is proof of the fact that I care for you.”

“And yet you have never told me you love me.”

“I’ve never told anyone that before, not even my own brother. Perhaps that is my mistake.”

“But do you love me?”

He is determined not to leave the pause that he did yesterday, to not make her doubt his feelings for her any further than he already has. He takes a breath, steeling himself against his impending vulnerability. “Our time on Dragonstone together was the happiest I ever remember being. I hated having to give that up to return here. Everything in this wretched place serves as a reminder that I am not good enough for you, not good enough to be Hand of the King.”

“And yet, you are my husband and Hand of the Queen,” Melessa reminds him.

“I stole you from my nephew. My niece made me Hand because my brother would not.”

“Perhaps you ought to spend more time appreciating what you have, rather than resenting the reason you have it.”

He huffs through his nose. She is right and he despises it, but it is one of the things he has grown to love about her. Yes. Love.

“I think about you all the time,” he tells her. “I find myself wishing for your presence when you are not by my side. Your scent is imprinted upon me in such a way that nothing else satisfies; I yearn for you more than I ever have for anyone. If that is love, then—yes. I love you… as much as I am able to love another person.”

She stares straight ahead as he speaks, her expression unreadable. The quiet hangs heavy between them when he finishes. Daemon’s heart races, worried she’ll reject him despite him having opened up to her.

Melessa shifts slightly in the bed. “Can you take the food away?” she asks. “The smell is making me feel unwell. I will not return to Highgarden, but I would appreciate some time to myself. I need to rest.”

Daemon nods, standing and removing the food from the end of the bed. He hovers by the door as Melessa settles back down to sleep, debating whether to try to kiss her or not. Deciding against it—he sees her eyes flutter closed—he pushes the tray into the hands of a chambermaid and makes his way out of the Red Keep.

He expects that Rhaenyra will summon him at some point today. It is her first official day as Queen; she will no doubt want a meeting of the Small Council. It is still early, however, and with yesterday’s festivities, he doesn’t anticipate her being ready to call everyone forth until the afternoon. He decides a ride on dragonback will help clear his mind. He has much to think about, though he is glad at having convinced Melessa to remain in King’s Landing without the need for force.

As Daemon approaches the Dragonpit, he notices excited commotion amongst the Keepers. The head of them gives him a beaming smile when he spots him and hurries over, staff in hand, to clap Daemon on the shoulder. He scowls at the overfamiliarity. Before he can enquire as to what the meaning of all of this is, he hears what the Keeper has to say.

“Syrax has laid a clutch! Her first in two decades!”

Daemon raises his eyebrows, the perceived slight immediately forgotten. “Dragon eggs?”

“Yes, Your Grace. We hadn’t known she was gravid. It appears the return of Caraxes has been fruitful for her.”

“Show me,” Daemon commands, excitement fluttering within him.

The head Dragon Keeper guides him through the gloom and humidity of the Pit until they reach a mucus-coated membrane upon the earthen floor.

Daemon crouches, breaking apart the protective layer that coats the top of them. Beneath lay four dragon eggs. His eye is immediately drawn to one that is iridescent shades of orange and red, fading into a vibrant green towards the bottom.

Carefully, he lifts it, turning it over in his hands, feeling the warmth of its hardened scales against his fingertips. “Perzys se rūkla,” he whispers.

Two Keepers approach, a steaming pot meant to incubate the eggs carried between them.

Daemon rights himself, keeping a hold of the egg he’s taken. “You may take those three.” He nods towards the ground. “And inform the Queen of Syrax’s clutch. I am taking this one.”

Melessa is still dozing when he returns. This time, he has no hesitation in waking her. He grins down at her as she grouses to herself, blinking her eyes slowly open.

“For the babe,” he tells her, holding the egg out.

She gasps, reaching out to place her hands over it, her fingers overlapping with his.

Daemon releases a steady exhale at the contact, the first physical touch they’ve shared in what feels like an age. He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers as they hold the egg together, the aroma of almond oil and rosewater flooding his senses. Finally, it feels as though everything may work out exactly as he wants.

This time, he does not fear it.

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Daemon paces the room. Each of Melessa’s pained screams cause him to wince as they echo off of the vaulted ceilings. A gaggle of attendants rally around her, mopping away sweat and blood as she produces each fluid anew.

Should there be so much blood? Is she going to be alright?

His throat constricts at the possibility he might lose her. He has ignored the pleas for him to leave the room, does not trust that she will not meet the fate of his brother’s first wife, Aemma, should she fall into difficulties.

He will not have her carved open like some roasted hog, just for the sake of some squawking brat. He will end this child’s life long before he ever considers taking hers.

He longs to brush her dampened hair from her temples, to hold her hand and encourage her through her labours, but he has not been allowed beside the bed. The birthing bed is no place for a husband, he is told. Daemon thinks that is utter shit.

He stills when he hears the first wails, too high-pitched to possibly be his wife’s. He turns to see Melessa exhausted but still very much alive, panting against the pillows as a bloodied, squirming mass is lifted from between her legs.

“A boy,” announces a voice from somewhere. He barely registers it, everything seeming far away as the child is separated from his mother, swaddled, and placed into Daemon’s arms.

He has never held anything so fragile before in his life. His arms wrap instinctively around the tiny bundle, a lump forming in his throat as he gazes down at the scrunched up, reddened face that looks up at him with apparent displeasure.

“Ñuhus trēsȳs,” he whispers. “You have a face I’m sure your mother will love.” My son.

He walks around to the side of the bed, and places the child in Melessa’s waiting arms. “Well done, petal,” he murmurs, kissing her temple. “You have given me a son.”

Daemon’s heart swells at the adoration with which she looks down at the babe with, her fingers tracing over his tiny cheek.

“What shall we name him?” she asks, voice hoarse from her labour pains.

“I was thinking Viserys, after my brother,” Daemon says, perching on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“A fine name, indeed.” She smiles. “Little Viserys.”

“Avy jorrāelagon,” he whispers, pressing his nose to her hair. It is a sentiment he ensures his wife and child will never go without hearing from him ever again. I love you.

**SIX WEEKS LATER**

Daemon’s hands wander over Melessa’s nightgown, pawing and squeezing at her flesh as she lays beside him. Under instruction from the Maesters, he and Melessa have not laid together for six weeks in order to allow her body to heal from having given birth. The wait has felt agonising to him; the last time he had been inside of her had been during the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Towards the end, Viserys had sat too low in her womb for them to be intimate without it causing her discomfort.

The wait has been maddening for Daemon. His fist will never satisfy him the way that the warmth of her cunt can.

She squirms uneasily against his touch. “Daemon— please,” she whimpers. “My body has changed since I became a mother.”

“And what is your point, petal?” he murmurs, his hand cupping her breast through the flimsy cotton that covers it.

“I do not look as I was before. I worry that you will not want me anymore, that you will seek out the comfort of another again…”

Daemon takes a gentle grip of her chin, tilting her face towards him. “There is no one that I desire more than you, sweet wife.”

He grasps her hand, guiding it towards his hardened length. “See what you do to me? Even in that oversized sack you insist upon wearing to bed.”

She giggles, and he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pulling at the lacings that keep her shift fastened as he does.

When she is bared beneath him, his eyes travel over the fullness of her breasts, the tautness of their hardened peaks slightly ruddier than they used to be. Her stomach bears the markings of having carried life, her hips more rounded, plusher than they used to be.

A low growl of approval rumbles in his throat. She is irrevocably marked as his and has never looked more beautiful to him.

He inhales a sharp breath upon finding her wet and wanting when he snakes a hand between her thighs. He wants to spend more time preparing her, but the way his cock aches painfully does not allow for such endeavours this evening. He needs her too badly.

When the tight heat of her walls envelope him, he groans in relief. It is like returning home after a lengthy absence. She sobs with pleasure at his every thrust, his hands vice-like against her waist as she eventually shudders and comes apart around him. He follows her over the edge soon after, white hot pleasure licking at his lower spine as he spills himself deep inside of her.

She is almost asleep against his chest when the piercing wails of Viserys startle them both into wakefulness. Melessa sighs, moving to leave the bed when Daemon places a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Allow me, petal,” he says, brushing his lips against her temple and rising from the bed.

Viserys cries in his cradle, little handles clenched into fists. The moonlight that streams through the gap in the curtains shines upon what has disturbed his slumber.

The dragon egg that lays beside him—vibrant hues of red and orange that fade into a brilliant shade of green towards the bottom—has begun to crack apart.

Daemon’s lips part as he watches it. A little dragon for his very own little dragon.

Perzys se rūkla.

FIN.

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killerpancakeburger · 6 months

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Header by @saradika-graphics

Fics:

Bluebeard's wife, Soap x f!Reader, (Reader deals with a creep on base, Soap and Ghost have more... drastic methods than her to solve the issue) (~1k)

I'm the powder, you’re the fuse, Soap x f!Reader (Soap finds out his gf is a mercenary and he likes it) (~2k)

Soap giving you a massage, Soap x GN!Reader (<1k)

Breaking Point, Ghost x GN!Reader (3.6k) hurt/comfort

Breaking Point, Soap x GN!Reader (4.3k) hurt/comfort

Another Headache, Soap x F!Reader (1.8k) hurt/comfort

Headcanons:

Being Ghost's BFF (while dating Soap)

Dating Soap HCS: (Combatant!Reader)

Dating Ghost HCS

Soap x Reader HCS PT.2

Ghost x Reader HCS PT.2

Imagines:

- Sacrifying yourself to save Soap for Ghost's sake

- Not being able to spend Valentines with Soap in person

- Ghost giving you the Shovel Talk bc you're dating Soap

All dividers by @saradika-graphics

In my BG3 era and writing a bit.

Fics:

Outpace the dawn, Spawn! Astarion x Reader (rewrite of the ending) (<1k)

Baby it's cold outside, Dammon x Reader (going on a date with Dammon in the snow) (<1k)

The wizard is dead, Rolan x Reader ("Who did this to you? I'll kill them" trope over his bruises) (5k)

Headcanons:

- Catching Rolan and Dammon by surprise

- Attending a wizards soiree with Rolan

- Attending a wizards soiree with Rolan - ANGST VERSION

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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year

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Come Back, Be Here - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: One race until the end of the season, and one race until Dan gets to go home for New Years and six weeks of family time. But he and Emmy are facing their longest separation since 2018, and neither of them are facing the truth of what it means.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: Abu Dhabi 2021, angst (it’s this series what do you expect), explicit smut (18+ only pls!), mentions of breaking laws in Middle Eastern countries.

AN: We had to share something for the DannyRic GP, and why not the moment that started the downward spiral for these two? We are aware that they probably wouldn’t get in trouble for being physically affectionate in public, but Em sticks to the rules and is a worst case scenario person so here we are. We hope you enjoy! Alex and Cíara xx

December, 2021

This leg of the race calendar was punishing. It didn’t give you a moment to breathe, three double headers in a row. And hardest of all for Dan, the last three races were in the Middle East.

He’d learned more about the human rights side of things, but he’d never consider himself well educated on it. He’d talked to other drivers, looked online, all of that. But on a purely selfish level Middle Eastern races meant that he and Em were back to their old pattern of separate hotel rooms, one of them slipping out of the others at the crack of dawn so they weren’t caught sharing. It was stupid and illogical and he missed the feeling of getting to wake up slowly with her half sprawled across him, of soft kisses and slow sex to get ready for the day.

Instead it was mumbled goodbyes and kisses on her forehead. Qatar wasn’t too bad, they finished the race and got to head back to Europe. He spent more time on the sim, trying to get to grips with how the car reacted and bring back some of the magic from Monza. And then he’d go home and open up the door of that little flat to see Em on the couch still working away, or she’d arrive in just after him from Blake’s with a smile and a “I was asked to remind you the walls are thin, please don’t make me scream tonight again.” She always blushed and he grinned, kissing it away and wrapping her in a hug to put aside the mixed feelings he had about McLaren.

But they were in Saudi Arabia and he fucking hated it here. He hated that for the next two months he couldn’t hold Em’s hand. He couldn’t wake up beside her in bed. That he’d get on the plane to Perth and she’d be left behind because she was going back to London and he didn’t want to do it.

Originally how late the calendar ran because of covid was perfect. They would arrive into Perth just as the major restrictions would be lifted, the hotel was booked for two weeks, they’d be home just after Christmas. It would work. And then the rules changed and it was citizens and spouses of citizens only and there was no way around it. They were in Austin when they got the news, cancelling the flight for Em with tears.

It was just after the race in Saudi, sitting in his driver room and wanting to head back to the hotel when Michael walked in. Everything was ready and he stood, but one look from Michael made him sit and stay quiet.

“Are you gonna ask Em to marry you so she can come home with us?”

He thought he was about to laugh at the question, but Michael’s face was sincere.

“Mate, no. God I wish I could. But no. I have a plan, and her thinking that I’m only asking her so she can come is not in it. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“You have a plan? Shouldn’t you at least go on a couple of dates? Have dinner out like a couple? Work out if it’s what’s gonna happen?”

He could see the surprise on his best mate’s face, watching as Dan took a deep breath and stretched out his back. He’d had the plan since the four of them were in lockdown together on the farm, when Em got off the wooden lounger she was sharing with him to get four more beers. He sat there, took the last gulp out of his bottle, and said “I’m going to marry her some day. Emmy’s the one. She’s it.”

Emmy had come back and curled on his chest again before they could say anything else, sitting there in the cooling night air while he ran his hand up and down her arm. It was perfect and he knew that was it, she was the one. The ring was sitting in his bag waiting for the right moment.

“Mate I know it will. We live together. We do dates when we have our Italy trips, and she still hasn’t forgotten I owe her for Lake Como last year because I won Monza instead. We don’t need dates.”

“Just take her on one. Mate, seriously, take her out. Do it properly.” The insistence was weird, it was never how Mike usually was. In fairness he and Blake usually stayed out of whatever he and Emmy were doing, unless it interrupted Blake’s sleep and he got an angry text. They’d gotten a lot better at not doing that though.

“Did she tell you something? Why are you making a big deal about this? I know what I’m doing.”

“She hasn’t said anything, but just…I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’re not gonna see her for six weeks, and I’m pretty sure the last time the two of you went that long without seeing each other was that gap between her coming to Monaco and whatever the race she went to after in 2018. Take your girl on a date and make sure she’s your girl.”

“I fucking can’t!” He was louder than he meant to be, opening and closing his hand and standing up. The fucking “cultural norms” and rules that meant they couldn’t do it. If they were just tourists then yeah, maybe. But there’d be cameras and people would see and he wouldn’t put it past a government to make an example of them.

“Why not? It’s easy. “Hey Em I’m in love with you and have been probably since I brought you to Perth for the first time, lets go for dinner before we spend six weeks apart.” That’s all you have to say. She’ll say yes.”

“Because we’re in the Middle fucking East. I’m not even supposed to get in a car with her, let alone be in public with her alone. And it’s pretty public that we’re not married so we can’t risk it. And don’t remind me that it’s gonna be fifty one days without her. That’s how long it’ll be till I see her once we get on that plane.”

“Dan…” But he was on a roll, finally able to explain everything that had been so painful to think about.

“We break so many rules in so many countries just to be able to sit at each others sides. I can get in trouble for sitting by her side in the car, holding her hand. It’s my thing every single day to be with her in the car. It’s our thing to go on ride to get to be alone for a minute before the rest of the world gets me. I can’t even stay in the same room as her if there isn’t someone there. I’m not supposed to go to bed hugging the girl of my dreams. Do you know the risk that I take every single time I sneak out of her room? The danger she’s in? There’s literal fucking morality police here. And every night we decide fuck it, it’s worth it and I just hug her tighter because it could turn into a living nightmare for her. So please. Don’t ask me “why not” like it’s some simple question because it’s not. There’s nothing I want more than that.”

It was quiet as Dan took a breath, the reminders of last year and the way they worried as he got back into the car after watching Romain escape the flames hit him again.

“Remember Bahrain last year? The way I hid in my drivers room with her?” Michael nodded. “That could have gotten us arrested for just being alone together and all that happened was she held onto me and stopped me from wanting to scream. The fact that we’re here so we have to do this? We have to pretend that it’s ok not to even get to hug each other? I’d kill for a podium, or even imagine a win, but then she couldn’t hug me. It’s backwards and it’s fucked and yeah I’m rich and white so we’d probably be fine but it’s not worth the risk. We do it anyway. Because we have to.”

“Mate. I’m sorry.”

“Just please. I have a plan. When we move into the new place I’m gonna talk to her about admitting everything. And next time she’s able to come to the farm I’m gonna propose. I’ve had the ring for a year. A little longer isn’t going to hurt.”

“As long as you know what you’re doing. I trust you, but don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. We’ll be good. She knows me better than I know myself.”

They nodded at each other and left the room, Blake and Em standing outside the hospitality with a few feet between them. Instead the four walked out to a car available for them to go back to the hotel. Ten days till the flight to Perth. He had to make the most of them.

—

Once they arrived in Abu Dhabi Em was counting down. They got in on Monday ahead of most of the rest of McLaren, checking into the hotel and getting their rooms. She had the emails and went to the counter, getting the keys and pointing out the boys across the lobby and the ridiculous amount of luggage they all travelled with. Travelling light was not a thing Formula One did.

The four envelopes were slid over, Em taking them and checking the keys. The little printed labels with their names were the same as in nearly any other Hilton, but seeing Dan’s on his own and hers on her own made her so frustrated.

She knew she’d been putting off thinking about the flight home after the race. Until they got to the airport she could pretend they were getting on the same plane, holding hands over the little divider like they did so often, curling up in bed and look at new apartments. They had months left on their self imposed timeline of the summer break, her lease was month to month, but they wanted this. A place that was theirs felt right for once.

“You ok?” Dan asked when Blake and Michael had gone up to their rooms. They were sitting on opposite sides of a coffee table, each fiddling with the envelope in their hands. The evening was a free one before the chaos of the final race of the season began. Both titles coming down to one race? It wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Yeah. Just…yeah.”

“It sucks.”

“It really sucks.” She smiled wistfully, trying to get herself together. They still had time. They weren’t leaving till Tuesday night, Lando agreeing to do the final day of tyre testing so Dan could make it home. The offer was there for Em to fly home early, as if that would happen. She hadn’t let them book her on an earlier flight to London. It wasn’t worth having a little less time with her boys.

“I just hate being apart. I hate not getting to share a room with you. Not even getting to give you a hug in public. I know it’s stupid, but this week?”

“It’s not forever.” Dan sounded different and she looked up at him, watching him search for his words. “After we move, y’know? Next year. We find the apartment and we move in and then we can figure out the rest.”

“That sounds really good.”

Their rooms were at least on the same floor, and she handed Dan the spare card for her room, watching him grin as she did. She went in and did her usual unpacking routine - toiletries in the bathroom, her planned clothes for the circuit hanging up neatly, checking the locks worked and the mirrors were real after one too many TikTok’s that terrified her. Her final step was putting her pillow on the bed, the habit Michael had made her pick up after one too many complaints about her awful sleeping habits. It didn’t particularly help, but she did it anyway.

They’d gotten in late, but there was only a one hour time difference. The room service menu looked good, a lamb kofta and lemon tart for dinner. The food arrived not long after she ordered and she settled at the desk to eat.

Three minutes later there was a knock at the door and it opened, Dan coming in with his own plate. A kiss to her head before he sat down with his steak, Em watching as he cut in and smiled at how it was cut.

“You’re a simple boy, eh Dimples?” She asked, enjoying how the first nickname she gave him that drunken night had stuck.

“I’ve got you and a steak, what else could I possibly want Emmy?”

“You know you don’t need to charm me, right?” He held out a forkful of peppers for her, in return she gave him some fries.

“But if I want to?”

“Then by all means, but don’t expect magic. I didn’t bring anything fancy considering what customs here is like.” The last time she’d brought anything involving what she considered her nice underwear was in 2019 when her luggage had been searched. She wasn’t doing that again.

They ate in mostly silence, Dan leaving only to put his room service cart outside his door and hang the do not disturb sign on it. Once he was back they got ready for bed, another episode of Criminal Minds on TV as they cuddled and got comfy. Em couldn’t tell you what happened, instead lulled to sleep by Dan’s fingers in her hair and a kiss against her forehead every few minutes.

The next few days passed, and she could see the seething rivalry between Red Bull and Mercedes was going to spill over. Thing were tense in the paddock, she’d never felt an atmosphere like it. Her first two years were a party mode, people glad a season was over, relaxing and looking forward to the break. Last year was covid and weird. But this felt strange.

She was sitting having coffee with Britta on Thursday morning before media really kicked off and asked her the magic question.

“Has a final race been like this before? It feels…weird.” The other woman laughed, checking her watch and taking a sip before answering.

“2016. 2012 a little, but we won so I kind of forget it. Things didn’t feel as poisonous then. Everyone knew unless Sebastian didn’t finish he’d probably win, so that was the aim. But 2016 was rough, and we weren’t near Mercedes then. It’s going to be interesting.”

“Definitely.” She wanted to see Dan at the top of the standings, wanted to see him race and race well. But this felt weird. She’d known Max just out of his teens, focused and sure and cocky. Lewis had become a friend. It was weird calling him that, but it was how things were.

Seeing Dan finish out of the points wasn’t great, but it was over and the season was done. The safety car finish that wasn’t a safety car finish, the way it all ended up left a weird taste in her mouth. Em had no loyalty to any team despite the friendships she’d made with people across both of them. Splitting the trophies felt just. But it was still strange. That night they all went to a party held by someone, drinking and dancing. In the rented out room it felt safe to be near Dan, but as soon as they were leaving for the hotel it was that gap between them. Into the provided car and through the lobby and up to her room, Dan stepping in behind her and pinning her against the wall. The sex was fierce and frantic and desperate, both of them putting everything they had into it. Dan rubbing against her, filthy words falling out of his mouth about how she looked, how she felt, how good she was as she begged him for more and more until they were seeing stars and clutched together.

Monday was promo. Em sat at the side of the garage with her iPad, already slotting in dates for the following season. Her earplugs were carefully in her ears as she watched the filming happen, content for the off season between Lando and Dan. It was exhausting, but the season was over. So many flights and hotels and this and that and the other. They’d done the maths and realised they spent more time in hotels than their bedroom during the season. She wanted to go home.

But she didn’t. She didn’t want to be in the cold London apartment alone. She didn’t want to sit on their couch and hit her leg off the coffee table Dan hated. She didn’t want to put his helmet on the shelf alone. They had a ceremony for it, Dan’s arms around her as she slid it into its new home. But their time together was ticking away shorter and shorter and she didn’t want to think about it. So she pulled up the latest apartment listings he’d sent to see if any of them suited. And then frowned when she realised he was looking in his rental bracket, not hers.

“Penny for them?” Blake asked, slipping into the chair across from her. She made herself smile up, hitting the lock button on the iPad and closing the case.

“Not a lot. Looking at apartments, wondering what the hell Danny is thinking of with some of them. I told him my budget.”

“And you know Dan. He wants the perfect place. You two doing ok?”

“There’s no us two, Blake.” Her words were short but she’d had enough of everyone saying they were together.

“Tamothy you’re either being wilfully or deliberately blind. He worships the ground you walk on. You’re moving in together. I live beside you, I hear too much.”

“We’re moving into a two bedroom.” She took a breath before continuing, letting that sink in. “Dan and I are…we are complicated and messy but he is my best friend. He knows me better than anybody else does. And whatever is going on with us is between us. You know I love you, you know you’re my brother, but you have to let this be between us. Ok?”

She took a sip of the iced tea beside her, stretching out her shoulders and arms the way Michael had instructed her to every half hour she was typing away. Blake looked like he was going to say something but Dan arrived over, grinning and wearing yet another OKX shirt.

“Did you take a look at the listings? I really like the SE1 one, it’s got balcony views over the Thames. If you can view when you’re back we can do the deposit?” He took her bottle and half emptied it, handing it back to Em who took another sip before looking up at him.

“I saw, except it’s five times the budget we said. Dan, seriously.”

“Emmy we can afford it. If we decide to do a budget by income like we should it’s me covering most of the expenses. Have a look at it?” He tried widening his eyes but she was immune from them. Mostly.

“No. We’re looking in the price range you and I set. Then if we can’t find anything that suits we’ll go higher. Understood?” He nodded. “This shoot is only supposed to be another twenty minutes, how’s it going?”

“My part’s nearly done. What’s next?”

“You get a full thirty minutes for lunch if you’re on time. Then it’s a couple of Android ads. I got them to give Blake a Pixel phone and tablet so you can look like you use them all the time instead of being the Apple geek we know you are. Once that’s done it’s a Gulf Oil pre-tape, a couple of holiday messages to record - Christmas, New Years, Lunar New Year because that’s before you’re back from Australia - and then you’re mostly done for the day. Apart from the Pirelli test meeting at five. That’s just going over the tires for tomorrow, the aim, introduce you to how the mule cars will work. That kind of thing.”

“You are my calendar countess, thank you Emmy! Going back to work now, are you both getting lunch then?”

“I’ll drag her from her desk!” Dan grinned at Blake’s response before jogging back. Once he was gone Blake stared at Em with wide eyes. “You drank from your bottle.”

“And?” She waved her hand at the papaya insulated metal bottle she carried with her everywhere. Water usually, but in hotter places it was iced tea with ice cubes carefully prodded through the lid. Everyone regularly in the garages had one.

“You never do that. I saw you nearly slap Michaels hand away for doing it. But you let Dan who was sweaty from being under huge lights all morning drink out of it and you drank out of it straight away.”

“So? It’s not a big deal.” It wasn’t. She was sanitary, that was all. Dan’s tongue was in her mouth most days, it wasn’t a big deal to share a water bottle. She forced Blake’s words out of her mouth as she started planning the 2022 Ric3 release schedule, only interrupted by going for lunch before spending the rest of her day on it. That night she didn’t do her usual day before checkout routine, instead curling up in bed with Dan for a lazy make out session before they went to sleep.

The next morning Em stopped packing and looked up at Daniel, watching him pace around the hotel room that he hadn’t left that morning, needing the extra time with her. He was more anxious than usual before getting in the car.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She pulled his chin down so he stared at her before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I just wish you were going to be in Perth with us. The kids miss you and want to see you, Mum and Dad keep bugging me that I have to be able to do something to get you in. We could do Melbourne or Sydney and spend it—“

“And you’d spend it away from your family when the entire reason you’re going back to Oz and spending fifteen days in a very small hotel room with Mikey is to see them. It sucks. It completely sucks that we’re going to be apart for two months. It sucks that we’re not spending Christmas together when we’ve spent almost every day of the last two years together. But you need to see them.” She couldn’t help the tears falling at her words, the realisation that she had to spend so much time away from her boys hitting her. They’d been her entire life, but they needed to see the other people who loved them even though she couldn’t go. She and Dan had poured over the regulations but had come to the same conclusion. She wasn’t Australian, she wasn’t married to an Australian, so she couldn’t enter Western Australia. None of Dan’s connections could get the restrictions lifted, even though she’d asked him not to try. He still had because of course he had.

“Emmy, don’t cry.” He sat on the bed and pulled her close, cradling her the same way they’d curl up on a jet together. Mike would be at the door any minute telling him to get his ass downstairs, testing was starting soon, but he didn’t care. She came first.

“I’m sorry. I just…ugh. I want to be there. I miss everyone. I want my big hug from everyone and the reminder to eat up because we don’t settle down in one place enough. I want to spend a day cooking with Grace and Michelle and getting shown the recipes she doesn’t trust you with. It’s just not fucking fair.” Dan’s hand ran through her hair, pushing kisses to her forehead as he soothed her. Seven fucking weeks. Fifty one days. It was the longest they’d spent apart since she’d gone to Barcelona in 2018.

“None of this is fair. I’ll come back to London, we can spend Christmas in the flat and start looking for our new place. I don’t want you alone for it or having to get the train to Liverpool.”

“You’re going to Perth. You already paid the stupid amount of money for hotel quarantine, we both know you don’t have a choice. I’ll be fine.”

She nearly convinced herself as she got off his lap the moment before Mike came into their room, wiping her eyes and picking up her tablet before joining them in the car. Blake had told her to take the day off, but there was already dates for sponsor videos and the next car launch, and some stupid OKX campaign involving Dan as a magician that she thought was ridiculous but she’d seen how much money they were personally paying him so it had to happen. While Dan drove laps around Yas Marina to put the season that had the highest highs and the lowest lows behind them she worked, tapping away at the keyboard with more force than she intended.

“What did the poor machine do to you?” She turned at the American accent, Zak Brown standing behind her looking her up and down. Emmy shook her head and put her press smile on.

“Decided to push more things onto a schedule than there’s hours in the day. What can I do for you, Mr Brown?” The older man’s expression was smarmy and she dreaded what he was about to say.

“We need Daniel to drive tom—“

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You want Daniel to drive tomorrow morning instead of doing the full run today. That’s not going to work. He’s booked on a flight to Perth at three in the morning and is booked into his hotel quarantine for when he arrives in Australia. This is non negotiable.” She wasn’t afraid to stand up to Brown anymore, not after the rumour Carmen had slipped her he’d spread.

“Lando can’t drive in the morning, he’s booked on a flight then.”

“I don’t care.” She stared at him, taking a breath before speaking. “Lando’s family is in England and he was able to spend most of 2020 and basically all of 2021 with them. They were able to be at races with him. Dan hasn’t seen his family since April last year apart from FaceTime, and thanks to the season running so late this year he’s already missing Christmas and Boxing Day with them. He’s not delaying seeing them by extra time. Plus, there’s flights to London nearly every hour, Lando can get any one of them. Dan’s flight isn’t changing. Don’t ask again.”

“And if I ask him to?” She hadn’t realised the car had pulled back into the garage, Dan making a beeline for his manager’s assistant and the CEO speaking in harsh whispers at the back of the garage.

“If you ask me to what?” He swallowed part of the protein smoothie Mike had handed him while waiting for Zak to speak.

“I was telling your little assistant here that Lando needs to go back to London tonight to see family, so I need you to do tomorrow morning’s testing session. She told me you wouldn’t do it, but I know you will, right?” Emmy looked at Dan, dreading his response

“I can’t. I’ve organised hotel quarantine with the WA government, I’ve paid for it. If I’m not on that flight then I miss my quarantine spot and there’s no guarantee I’ll get another one. Lando told me yesterday afternoon he was fine about it, he had plans to spend Thursday golfing in Dubai before flying home. If Emmy says something about my schedule then that’s my schedule, she’s the one who keeps all that.”

They were a united front, and she could feel the heat radiating from his sweaty race suit just behind her. Instead of leaning back like she wanted she stayed still to watch Brown take in Dan’s words.

“Ok. We’ll make it work. Dan, Emmy.” He turned to walk away, but Emmy stopped him.

“Mr Brown?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Emma, if you don’t mind. Only certain people call me Emmy, I’d like to keep it that way.”

They watched him walk out of the garage towards hospitality and it took Dan less than five seconds to grab her hand and pull her back to his drivers room.

“Dan?” She asked once he’d closed the door, pushing her against it.

“That was fucking hot. Making sure I get to go? Standing up to him? Not letting him call you the name I gave you? Hot as hell.”

His lips dropped to her neck, tracing the length of the silver chain she always wore until he reached the number three on it. It was her birthday present from 2018, given to her during the summer break. Just weeks after they’d decided to be friends who slept together.

She hated the word friends.

“You have to eat. And drive. We can’t right now.”

“At the hotel? I want to say goodbye to you properly. Two months is too long.”

“I know, Babe. I know.”

She pressed open mouthed kisses to his jaw before pushing him slightly, pulling her ipad to her as she perched on the little desk before Mike arrived back. They were the picture of professionalism, apart from Dan’s pinkie running up and down her thigh.

When he was back in the car she had her last meeting with Michael, the two of them running through the final plans for the online platform over the winter, the pre recorded information ready to go.

“You doing ok?” Michael asked and she nodded, trying to smile. “Really?”

“I will be. It’s just gonna be weird spending time without the three of you. Dan and I haven’t been apart since we were all in lockdown.”

“Any news about you and Dan?”

“Gossiping, much?!” She tried laughing, not letting her worries show. “He’s my guy, he’s my best friend. Whatever the media or anyone says doesn’t matter. Danny knows more about me than anyone else.”

“You know we’re on your side.”

There was nothing else she could say to that. Fortunately Dan appeared out of the car, changed but unshowered.

“Winter break, here we come! I’m thinking hotel to nap, and then we can get food before we change and head to the airport? Book the restaurant for eight thirty?” Dan’s curls were wild and he still had the balaclava marks on his cheeks that Em loved to kiss off his face. Instead she stood up, adjusting the bright orange shirt as she picked up the last few things she had.

“Yeah, works for us. Make sure we’re all packed up so we can just grab them and go straight to the airport. Who’s driving? Emmy?”

“Nah, not tonight. I’m too tired, and considering the way things are around here a woman driving a car full of men?” She smiled, Blake and Mike realising the excuse she wasn’t saying.

“I’ll drive. Be fine. Let’s head back.” Blake shepherded them out, everyone saying goodbye to the team they’d worked with for the year. Em checked her watch, eleven hours until she’d have said goodbye to her boys for two months, and she wasn’t ready.

The drive back to the Hilton was quick. Mike took the passenger seat without asking leaving her and Dan holding hands in the back. When they were in the garage they waved goodbye, everyone going to their room and agreeing to meet later for dinner. Once the door to their room was closed Dan pulled her close, his hands half lifting her as her legs wrapped around his waist when she jumped.

“Dan,” Em groaned, holding onto his shoulders.

“Ive got you baby girl, I’ve got you. I promise I’ve got you.” His lips moved further down her neck as he pulled the team shirt off her body to reveal a new pink bra. “For me?”

“Wanted to look pretty for you, give you something to remember.”

“You say that like I could ever forget you.”

She was lost in the sensations, both of them shuffling clothing off in a desperate attempt to be closer. Dan’s fingers slid through the matching underwear, long digits brushing through the wet folds.

“Dan I need more. Please?” Her hips bucked up and he laid her on one of the beds in the room, hovering over her.

“I’ve got you, Emmy. I’ve always got you.” Dan’s brown eyes were clear, the depths of emotion starting. She gasped as he entered her fully, filling her to the hilt in that way she knew so, so well. Every single time they slept together it felt right, Dan stretching her perfectly. She rolled her hips and smirked at the groan he let out, taking the hint to move.

Never ask Emmy what he did in those moments, the way he moved and brought her to her first orgasm, and then her second. They were chasing their highs together, lips clashing and his thumb rubbing circles around her clit just above where she was so gloriously full.

“Let me feel you, Emmy. So perfect right like that, let me feel how good you feel.”

“Danny…Danny please babe, just there please.” She couldn’t tell who came first, the two of them hitting their climax at nearly the same time.

The last thing she wanted was for him to pull out and move, to remind her that their time together was getting shorter and shorter and they’d have to say goodbye soon. Dan seemed the same way, pushing kisses to her chest before being forced to move. Getting cleaned up after sex was easy for them now, but instead he lifted her up and carried her into the bathroom, ignoring Emmy’s complaints.

“Dan! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!! What are you doing?!” She called, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip.

“Bath. If we don’t get one for a while I want a proper one. We don’t have wine, but we can relax for a little while. Please?” She could never say no to his big brown eyes, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

“Sounds perfect.”

The tub in the suite was large enough for both of them, Em leaning back into his arms in the hot water. Every so often she felt Dan push a kiss to her head, smiling at the movement.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” He asked and she fought but failed to stop her body going stiff. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. London’s as much home as anywhere else, either there or Monaco or Perth. But no, I’m staying away from Liverpool. I didn’t even get a text asking what I was doing for it this year.” The realisation that she hadn’t gotten anything after her happy birthday text in August hurt a little, but she just relaxed into Dan again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair.”

“None of it is, but it’ll be fine. I’ll curl up, take care of Blake’s plants, get your schedule for the start of next year done. Who knows, I might use some of the ridiculous salary you pay me and take a holiday. Chloe said she and Scotty are spending New Years in Switzerland. She doesn’t want me to be lonely.”

“They’re good friends. You should go. Don’t spend it all alone in the flat without me. I might look up some places for us? I’ll find some that are in your price range, I promise.” She leaned back against him to relax before she replied.

“That’s the plan Roomie.” The moving in talk gutted her every time he brought it up. As friends. Friends who slept together and were intimate together and who loved each other so much it hurt to be separated.

“I’ll see what I can find. Somewhere with lots of light and a balcony I think.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She could have fallen asleep there but the alarm she’d set went off, making her stand up as Dan ran his fingers down her legs.

“Emmy…”

“No, Danny. We need to get ready. Once we leave here you know what the rules are.” The stupid unmarried couple UAE rules. The reason she insisted she stood between Blake and Mike for most of the time they were outside, because if she and Danny were beside each other holding hands was the least they usually did.

“You know, right?” His voice was plaintive, Em dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know. I know you do but y’know, right?”

A squeeze of her hand was the only response.

Dinner was fun, the four of them at the table, laughing and joking. The time of year and what was about to happen was strictly off limits for discussion, as was the safety car that had fucked up Dan’s chance of points in the last race. Instead they talked about watching other teams do tyre testing, Kimi’s retirement party that the guest of honour had left after twenty minutes, the way teams had shaped up for the next season.

“Yeah I’m surprised Haas kept Mazepin, but I guess money talks.” Blake gestured with his fork as he spoke, Em rolling her eyes.

“Just keep him away from me next year, ok? I…yeah. The rumours are bad enough. He creeps me out.”

“Did he do anything?” Dan put his cutlery down and looked at her, Em shaking her head immediately.

“He didn’t get the chance. But he knows exactly where to go to find certain people, he knows what to do. Nothing I can report and say is inappropriate, but enough that I can tell he knows he’s crossing the line. It fucking sucks. And I can’t prove it but he was spreading the worst of the rumours over the summer.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork, eating it before she could say anything else. Spending time with Mick trying to badly teach her German generally meant Mazepin was around and she hated that.

“If anything happens.” An eyebrow raise told her the rest.

“I know what to do.” She took the chance to run her foot along his calf, making sure he could feel how calm she was. She wasn’t ruining the last part of her day with her boys with crap.

The drive to the airport was fine. Two cars had been ordered because of the law that she wasn’t supposed to be in a car with any of the boys, but instead of her slipping into one of the SUVs alone Dan got in opposite her. The driver was discrete and kept quiet, Em and Dan holding hands for the entire drive to Dubai. The hour passed too quickly, and they arrived ready to go in the dark night.

Check in and security was quick, Em picking up a few things in the duty free shopping. Once they were ready the four of them went to the Emirates lounge, settling into a corner. Mike and Blake took the outer seats so she and Dan could be beside each other, a glass of champagne for everyone on the low table between them.

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now, the clock past midnight and the realisation she was saying goodbye to them. Her fingers were linked with Dan’s and they were silent, three occasional squeezes the only form of communication between them. She could tell when Blake and Mike noticed what was happening, their nudges between each other. Em held her breath, but then Dan realised what was happening and pulled her in.

“We can’t,” Em gasped out, worried about what would happen if anyone saw.

“I don’t care. Emmy, you need some comfort. This isn’t…fuck. Fuck it all. I’m done. I’m going up and changing my flight, I’m going to London. How the hell am I supposed to leave you like this? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Danny, you can’t.” She looked up at him and made him stare at her, fixing his gaze with her own. “You haven’t seen your family in more than eighteen months. You’ve got your hotel quarantine ready to go. They’re holding Christmas dinner until you’re out of quarantine and can see them all. You have to go.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” He squeezed her hand three times but she could see his resolve breaking.

“I’ll be ok. We’ll FaceTime every couple of days. But look here.” She lit her phone screen, showing him the photo of her, Isaac, and Isabella from Christmas 2019 when the kids were so much smaller and a pandemic was barely a thought. “Those kids are so excited to see their uncle Dan again. You have a full suitcase of presents waiting to be loaded. Grace is dying to hug her boy and she and Joe just want to congratulate you for Monza. You have to go.”

When Dan pulled her into a hug she knew she’d won, and the two of them stayed curled up in a chair like that together. Mike and Blake moved chairs so nobody could see them as a just in case, but Dan held her and Em breathed in his scent deeply. Fifty one days. She could do this.

“Passengers for Emirates flight EK 420 to Perth, First Class is boarding shortly. Please proceed to the boarding gate for transport to your plane.”

She went to stand at the announcement but Dan didn’t let her go, squeezing her tight.

“Another minute. Please?”

“Ok.”

They got another three before Blake shook Dan’s shoulder to get them to move.

“Mate, we have to go. C’mon.”

Em forced an all too fake smile on her face as she hugged her boys, Michael holding her close for a moment.

“Look after yourself,” she murmured, watching as he nodded seriously.

“And I’ll look after him for you, Wiggle. I’ll email you those new video ideas and we can see what works?”

“Perfect.”

Hugging Blake was the same, arms wrapped around her as he pushed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Wish you were coming back with us. If we could…”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Australia. Gonna miss you Blakey.”

“Miss you too Ems.”

Dan was the final one to grab her and she didn’t want to let go. He pushed the quickest kiss to her lips as he hugged her, Em wanting to deepen it but knowing she couldn’t.

“I’ll change to the London flight. I’ll do it now.”

“And then your family will hate me. I’ll see you soon. You know, right?”

“I know. Y’know, right?”

She kissed his cheek before letting go, stepping back to give distance between them all.

“Go get your flight. I’ll text when I land in London, please let me know when you get into Perth. Good luck with the quarantine.”

She waved as they walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ever since they’d been locked down on the farm she’d spent every single day with at least Dan, if not Blake and Mike right there beside her. But now she was facing fifty one days alone and all Em could do until they announced her flight was cry.

Taglist (let us know if you want to be added!)

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiophobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e

#daniel ricciardo x reader #Call it what you want fic #ciwyw writing #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel ricciardo oneshot #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfic #formula one oneshot #f1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot

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rosaalee · 1 year

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Countdown to Twilightmas

Day 15: Esme & Carlisle

#my headers #countdown of twilightmas #25 days of twilightmas #esme cullen #carlisle cullen #carlisle and esme #esme and carlisle #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn

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starlostastronaut · 4 months

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DAY 20 | TAKE A CHANCE

PAIRING: yang jeongin x reader

GENRE: fantasy au, idol au

WC: 1.02k

CW: supernatural beings, use of y/n (1x)

PROMPT: "normal is boring"

i don't even know what this is supposed to be, just know i wrote this after two glasses of wine lmao (dw i am not drunk). i don't have much to say, except that i love the photos in the header. innie looks like a cute little fox 🤭 anyway, enjoy reading <3

title from break down the walls - ross lynch

general masterlist here

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"You should tell him.” That was the first thing Seungmin told you when he found out you and Jeongin were dating. When he introduced you to each other, he thought you would be good together, and he was right. Fast forward two months later, and you announced your relationship. Was it fast? Probably, but you and Jeongin just clicked in a way you had never before with anyone. You told each other everything, and even after such a short time, you felt like you knew everything about him. Yet now, six months into being together, Jeongin still didn't know your deepest secret. You were a witch. Seungmin knew, of course, but he promised not to tell Jeongin until you were ready. But that moment seemed to never come, and Seungmin was growing impatient.

Today he was over at yours, yet again trying to convince you to tell Jeongin about your true identity. But you were scared. What if he wasn't going to accept you? You loved him too much to lose him over something like that. Seungmin strongly disagreed with you, and he told you every time you would ask. Often, he told you when you didn't ask as well.

“Look, all I'm saying is, you should tell him,” Seungmin said for the approximately millionth time since the start of your relationship. He plopped down on your couch, accepting the drink you handed him with a smile. His eyes followed you as you sat down opposite him. “I promise, Jeongin won't be mad.”

“You don't know that,” you answered. Of course, the two of them were best friends, claiming to know each other like the back of their hands. But not even Seungmin could predict what Jeongin would do in a situation like this.

“I do,” Seungmin insisted. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. “Just tell him. I promise you, he will accept you as a witch. I mean, with his-” Seungmin cut himself off, hoping you wouldn't notice. Fortunately for him, you were silent, thinking about what he said earlier. Seungmin seemed very insistent, and truth be told, you were starting to believe him. Maybe it was worth a shot, you decided. After all, Seungmin knew Jeongin better than you. And it would get Seungmin off your back, which was a welcomed plus.

“Okay,” you decided, months of persuasion finally settling in. “I'll go call him right now.” Seungmin grinned, feeling victorious. His eyes had that mischievous spark that appeared whenever he knew something the others didn't.

Later that day, you heard the bell ring as Jeongin came over. You greeted each other, both of you feeling nervous. Oh God, Seungmin didn't tell him anything, did he? With your anxiety spiking up again, you reached for his hand. When he took it into his, you led him inside the apartment.

“You wanted to talk about something? If I did something wrong, I'm so sorry!” Jeongin hurriedly apoloziged, barely setting foot into the living room. “You just sounded so serious on the phone, and I..." He left the sentence unfinished, and the realization dawned on you. Seungmin didn't say anything to him, you did. You called him, asking him to come over because you had something you needed to discuss in person. And Jeongin, always being the more insecure one, must have thought you were going to break up with him.

You grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them to reassure him. “You didn't do anything wrong, and I'm not breaking up with you, Innie. You might want to break up with me after I tell you everything, though,” you said, giving him your best smile. “You see, I haven't been completely honest with you.” You took a deep breath. It was better to rip the bandage right off. “I'm a witch, Jeongin.”

He stayed silent after that. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and his eyes were widening in shock. Translating his reaction as disgust, you began frantically apologizing. “I know how it sounds, and I'm sorry. I completely understand if you want to break-”

“Y/N.” His firm tone stopped your rambling. Now it was Jeongin's turn to take your hands so you would stop waving them around. “I don't want to break up. I don't care that you're a witch.” Jeongin looked down, with a barely-there pink dust covering his cheeks. He was feeling embarrassed, but you didn't know why. “Now that you mentioned it..." He let go of your hands in order to play with his rings, a nervous habit of his. You found it adorable at almost any given time, but now it was kind of scaring you. What could he possibly want to tell you that was worse than being a witch?

“I wasn't completely honest either. I'm actually a werefox,” Jeongin mumbled, taking his eyes off the floor to show you how they glowed yellow.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. And then, face-to-face with the absurdity of the situation, you began to laugh. Jeongin gave you a confused look, but then the corners of his mouth were turning up, and soon he was laughing with you. You didn’t know what was so funny, and you were sure Jeongin was just as clueless, but that didn't stop you. You stood in the living room, looking at each other and laughing until your cheeks were sore.

“We're quite the couple, aren't we? A witch and a fox,” you managed to say in between fits of laughter.

Jeongin grinned even more, and his eyes turned into those adorable crescents. “Normal couples are boring anyway,” he replied, and you had to agree with him. In a world of magical beings, normal was overrated.

“Seungmin's been trying to get me to tell you for months. I'm glad you brought it up, because I wouldn't find the courage on my own,” he confessed when you calmed down enough to speak. You almost wanted to laugh again.

“He's been pestering me about the same,” you laughed. You and Jeongin exchanged a look. Damn Kim Seungmin, who was, yet again, right all along.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo @sleepyleeji

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin #fluff #fantasy au

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little-diable · 1 year

Text

Be aware of the strangers watching - Spencer Reid (2/2)

@hidingsikki and I kept watching Spencer TikTok edits those past days, so we came up with this idea. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: It didn't take the team long to notice that (y/n)'s missing, while they are trying to find her, she's forced to realise that she probably won't make it through the upcoming hours. Time is fleeting and so is her life.

Warnings: 18+, angst, panic attack, fear of dying, kidnapping, mentions smut

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3k words)

header by @hidingsikki

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part One

“Try calling her again, maybe she’s stuck in traffic.” Hotch’s voice filled the room, drawing the worried gazes of the team members towards him. They should have left minutes ago, called away by a new case, and yet (y/n) was missing - without a message or a note telling the team about her whereabouts.

“Did you always split up on your way here? Weren’t you supposed to drive together?” Derek murmured his words into Spencer’s direction, gaze flickering towards the elevator whenever somebody stepped out of it, filling them with hope for a fraction of a second till the sinking feeling of realisation swapped over them.

“No, we used to come in together, but like I said, I had to pick up my bag, so (y/n) went ahead and drove here on her own.” Spencer’s voice dripped with worry, seemingly just as scared as the rest of the team. Their thoughts were racing, coming up with cruel scenarios about what could have happened to her.

The more minutes passed by, the more confused the others got. No longer was their case a priority, no, they were all focused on (y/n), trying to locate her. Garcia had disappeared minutes ago, trying to find something online, hoping that wherever (y/n) may currently be, she’d make it through the next hours. Alive.

“I’ll call the Sheriff to let them know that we won’t come in today. Reid, drive back to (y/n)’s place, take Derek with you. Emily, see if you can help Garcia locate (y/n) on any cameras, Dave with me.” With a nod sent Aaron’s way, the team began to disappear out of the room, leaving behind nothing but the reminders of the conversation they have been forced to share.

“Hello?” Her voice was trembling, echoing through the dark (y/n) found herself stuck in. Her hands tried to find something she could use to hold on to, though it only took her a few seconds to realise that she didn’t have a way out. She was stuck. In a box.

“Hello? Spencer!” (Y/n)’s breaths grew panicked, growing faster and more shallow with every passing second as the thought of suffocating in a box dawned on her. “Spencer? Please, oh god.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to kick her legs, hoping that she’d be able to break through the material of the box, but without any luck. It didn’t take her long to realise that she wasn’t stuck in a wooden box, but a metallic one.

It was almost ironic, but her mind couldn’t help but focus on Spencer, on the calming words he’d speak to her. Fuck, the mere thought of Spencer used to calm her, but now it didn’t do much but haunt her. (Y/n) could still feel the anxiety thumping through her veins, wondering why he had done something this cruel.

Her screams grew raspy, no longer able to give her anxiety enough room to verbally bubble out of her.

“Are you okay?” Derek stopped Spencer from stepping out of (y/n)’s home, faces full or worry as it slowly dawned on them that somebody must have ripped her away from them. It took the man a moment to reply, staring into Derek’s eyes as if he was trying to find answers to the questions keeping his thoughts racing.

“I wish we didn’t split up, it’s all my fault.” Derek pulled Spencer in for a hug, patting his back to wordlessly communicate that everything would be alright. The team wasn’t stupid, all were awfully aware of the tension between the young profiler and (y/n), the emotions keeping them chained together like secret lovers having to make it through their days. She’d have to make it back to them, for the sake of the team, for the sake of Spencer.

“We’ll find her, we have to.” Slowly they pulled away from one another, leaving the place with a heavy heart and darkening thoughts. The sound of Derek’s phone going off echoed through the air, making the man falter in his steps as Spencer closed the passenger door.

“Tell me something positive, babygirl.” It took Penelope a moment to reply, whispering her words as if she was scared that anybody close could pick up on the things she was about to share.

“Are you still with Spencer?” Derek’s eyes found Spencer’s frame in the car, momentarily staring at the man who had his eyes closed, seemingly wrecking his brain for any clues, things they could have missed.

“He’s not around, why?” A heavy gulp was heard, followed by a shaky exhale of breath.

“I haven’t told the others yet, but he didn’t leave her place on his own, he left with (y/n).” Penelope was rambling, clearly distressed by what she had seen on the traffic cameras, allowing her to follow the couple from (y/n)’s place to Spencer’s. “I lost them shortly after they left her home, but he lied to us.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him. See if you can find them again, maybe something happened that he was too embarrassed to share with us.” Derek’s heart kept racing faster with every step he took towards the black SUV, starting the car without speaking another word. Spencer kept studying him, clearly waiting for the man to spill whatever new information he had just stumbled upon.

“Why did you lie?” His voice dripped with anger and confusion, eyes finding Spencer’s as the car came to a halt at a red light. No longer were Spencer’s eyes wide, with his pupils dilated to carry the sadness he felt, no, he stared at his colleague with no expression tugging on his features, unemotional as one can be.

“What do you mean?”

“You left with her, you lied to us, Spencer.” No words followed Derek’s murmurs, making an uncomfortable silence linger in the car. It took the profiler moments to reply, moments filled with dread, passing by slower than the hours before.

“It must have slipped my mind, I guess I was too focused on the other questions.”

Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her quivering chin. She had stopped kicking her feet, slowly but surely accepting the fact that nobody would find her. Perhaps the team was looking for her, perhaps they had left before they could notice that she was in fact missing, ripped away by a lie Spencer had told them.

And yet, deep down she desperately clung to the thought of her team, something inside of her tried to reassure her that she would make it out alive. Now she was one of them, one of the ones she’d rescue on a weekly basis. Did they feel as confused as she felt? Were they angry at the ones making them suffer? Were they sad about the sudden turn of events or had they always anticipated that something would eventually happen?

Not once had she tried to imagine that Spencer could be the one behind all of this. Not once had she even tried to ask Spencer about his behaviour, the confusing switches in his emotions - a clear sign for the trauma he had experienced at prison.

Her mind kept wandering back to the past days, reliving the moments they’ve shared, how he had taken care of her with his lips pressed against hers and his hands wandering down her sides. (Y/n) couldn’t help but curse herself for the excitement she’s felt, how for the first time in months she had been able to give into her feelings

„Fuck, help, please. I don’t want to die.” Slowly but surely she felt the air getting thinner, no longer able to breathe properly.

“Is that him?” Derek was standing behind Penelope, staring at the screen that showed a video of Spencer leaving his home with a body, presumably (y/n), thrown over his shoulder. Quick, panicked breaths left the woman as she kept watching the video, not able to understand what was going on.

“It is, I followed him through traffic, he parked in front of a warehouse, and carried her inside. Minutes later he left without her.” Tears welled up in Penelope’s eyes as she looked up at Derek, wondering why Spencer had done something like this.

“Call Hotch down here, send me the address of the warehouse.” Derek was out of the room before Penelope could even try to reply, eyes flickering back to the screen, following Spencer’s frame with glassy eyes.

The next moments passed by in a blur, while Derek violated every traffic law, pressing down on the gas to reach the warehouse, the others had surrounded Spencer, asking the man with wide eyes questions he didn’t seem to understand.

“What did you do to her?” Emily’s voice dripped with anger, an anger so burning she no longer acted professionally, rather like a friend fearing for her friend’s life. Tears welled up in Spencer’s eyes as his gaze flickered between the ones staring him down, shaking his head with a sob rumbling through his trembling body.

“I don’t know. Oh god, I don’t know.” His voice was raspy, carrying the emotions he felt. He couldn’t remember what had happened, couldn’t remember being at his place with her, all he could remember was the drive to the BAU, nothing else.

“I need a number!” Derek’s voice echoed from the speakers, screaming the words as if he was the one fighting for his life. Spencer stuttered, unable to pronounce his reply, choking on the heavy sobs that clawed through him.

“We need a number, Spencer. Which part of the warehouse belongs to you?” Hotch had his arms crossed, managing to stay calm, at least that’s what it seemed like to his colleagues, not nearly as emotional as the others.

“43.”

The sound of Derek’s heavy breaths filled the silence that now lingered in the room, eyes not daring to move away from Spencer. Within the next moments the sound of a gun going off rang in their ears, a sign of victory, allowing Derek into the warehouse chamber that belonged to Spencer.

“(Y/n)? It’s me, Derek.” No reply could be heard, forcing the hearts of those who were listening to beat faster. “I can’t see her anywhere. (Y/n)?”

A silence so defeating engulfed them that even the others couldn’t help but let the tears well up in their eyes, preparing for the truth that could rip their lives apart. The mere thought of losing (y/n) left them trembling, not able to think of a life without her close. She was their lynchpin, the centre of their relationships.

“(Y/n)? Fuck.”

“What is it? Did you find her? Is she alive?” The questions bubbled out of Spencer before he could stop himself, not daring to look away from the phone that had been placed on the table. Derek’s heavy breaths kept filling the dreading moments of silence.

“She’s in a box, I got her. C’mon, doll, you have to breathe for me, c’mon. Don’t you dare die on me now.”

#Spencer Reid imagine #be aware of the strangers watching #Spencer Reid x reader #Criminal Minds

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year

Text

The White Dragon (21)

21. The hour of the Snake

MASTERLIST

Summary: No reader in this chapter

Warnings: cursing, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs, can you call this a cue?, hostile takeover, implied killings, death of a character, technically kidnapping. Death, rituals about death (preparing of a dead body), nothing mentioned. Blood, injury

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.7 k (felt like a million)

Notes: I just realized Steffon is 50 years old!! and I bet he looks more yummier than ever… A silver Fox Charlie Hunnam? YES PLEASE.

We got new Header, and spacer! wujuuu

He knew

He was the second ever to find out, because he was on duty that very morning. Steffon watched the little blonde kid run down the corridor and he knew. He entered the chambers and saw it first hand. King Viserys was dead.

The Queen was going to be the first one to receive the dark news, so he stood outside the chambers of the King. Guarding him even in death, because he could never abandon his post. Bitter tears fell down his face, he had served the King for 32 years… He had saved his daughter, and had come into his service.

He bowed to Queen Alicent who came to the chambers with tears already streaming down her face, and was accompanied by Ser Criston.

“Thank you Ser Steffon”, she said sweetly, placing her hand on his shoulder, “I need you to go guard the King one last time”, she whispered, and he nodded, standing tall and still by the doors, “Don’t let anyone in”

He heard the Queen cry by his majesty’s side, and then she rushed down the hallways.

It was the break of dawn, birds barely begun to chirp.

As he was standing guard, the small council, the treacherous small council gathered, plus Larys Strong and the commander of the Kingsguard, and minus Lord Beesbury. In the meantime all the servants were being led to the dungeons.

“She will never bend the knee!”, cried Alicent, “And her sister is with her! this is the worst possible timing!”

“Or the best”, said Lyonel, “Shall we proceed as planned?”, Alicent looked at her father, surprised

“Yes, indeed”

“Where is Lord Beesbury?”, she asked

“He is loyal to Rhaenyra”, said simply

“You were planning on placing my son on the throne without me?”, she asked

“You had become friends with the princess”, said Otto

“What would have happened if she was here?”, she asked, “she would have killed us all!”

“We had a contingency plan, luckily, she isn’t, but we have Aemma”. Alicent looked at all the men gathered there

“What?”

“And Rhaenys, we are in the best position”, he said, “they are not here, but Aemma is”

“You will not harm that girl!”, she said

“We will never even dreamed of doing such a thing, but with her, the princess only has to come here and bend the knee”, he said simply, “we will marry her to Aemond so she will never leave our side, and we will have the princess as an ally”

“This will backfire!”, she claimed

“We have the support of The Stormlands, the Westerlands and the Reach”, continued Otto, “we will send letters to the North, and the Tullys in the Riverlands!”

“What about Rhaenyra?”, she asked then, “She will never bend the knee, neither will Daemon”

“She will have no choice”, started Otto, “when they receive the news, it will be too late, Aegon will be crowned before that”

“That won't stop her from flying into the city and burning us all, they also have the city watch”

“Sadly for them, we control the treasury, with that money we will pay some of the captains, that are easily bought”, laughed Tyland

“They could turn on Daemon but they will never turn on Harwin”, she said, convinced

“So we will change those captain to the ones loyal to us”, said Otto

“I shall set myself to that purpose”, muttered Tyland, and left the room.

“So what about Rhaenyra?”, asked Alicent, every second more nervous

“She is expecting your grace”, said Lord Lyonel, “you need to make an excuse about yours and Aemma’s absence, something simple, but binding”

“Good idea”, she whispered, “I shall get to it”

“Where is Aegon?”, asked Otto, “Where is Aemond?”

“They must be sleeping”, said Queen Alicent

“Bring them in I want to talk to them”

“I don’t want that”, she said

“Aegon has known of our plans for months”, said Otto, “he is with us”

“You did all of this without me?”

“It was necessary”, Otto then looked at the Commander, “Lord Commander, I have a mission for you”

Aemma woke up weirdly late, no maid had gone looking for her to wake her up, and she was woken by the sun in her face instead.

“Hello?”, she called, but she was alone. She found it odd, until she heard steps in the hallway. She walked towards the doors, but they wouldn’t open. She found it even more strange.

She found one of her dresses she could put on without help and she braided her hair, and on her most comfortable shoes, she didn’t like whatever was happening and she needed to be ready for anything.

So she tried to open the doors again, but to no avail

“Is anyone there?”, she asked, and slapped the door. “Hello?”, no answer. “Open the door!”

She tried the door knobs, and tried and tried

“Open the door!”, she screamed, pounding in the door now with her fist, “Help! Open the door! Please!”

Ser Steffon Mangold guarded the door of the King as instructed… He let in the silent sisters by order of the Queen, who will prepare the King’s body. The sun was already on the horizon, and the day looked gloom, like it known a King had died.

And that is when Ser Harrold Westerling came walking down the corridors, hastily.

“Ser Steffon, you must leave immediately”, he said. Grabbing him by the arm

“What is going on? Lord Commander?”, he leaned in after making sure nobody was listening

“They intend on usurping the throne”, Steffon gasped, not believing what he was saying. “They wanted me to kill Rhaenyra and her family in dragonstone”

“Ser Harrold, don’t we answer to the king?”, he asked

“So choose one, Steffon”

“I choose Rhaenyra”, he said firmly

“Then go, quickly, you need to warn her, they intend to crown Aegon as soon as they can, they will lose the city”, Steffon nodded. But then he noticed the lack of cape

“Ser how about you?”

“I will remain”, he said firmly. As Steffon turned around, he grabbed him by the arm. “If this provided any comfort, I name you my successor as the Captain of the Kingsguard”

“What an honor Ser, Thank you”

“Go!”, and without more hesitation he started walking down the hallways. But first… he needed to… He started running towards the chambers of Princess Aemma. The former chambers of her mother. He needed to get her out of here, she is the one that they are going for first.

As he was turning the corner on Maegor’s Holdfast, he was met with soldiers guarding the hallway to the chambers. He tried to act like nothing was happening, but they move to prevent his way

“Move”, he growled

“No one is allow to go the chambers”

“I said move”, he demanded

“What do you think you are doing?”. Steffon couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he heard that annoying voice. He turned around slowly, to meet Ser Criston Cole

“To wake up the princess”, he said

“You were told to guard the King’s chambers”, he said, those crazy eyes again

“I received new orders”, he said firmly

“From a traitor”, he mocked

“From my Lord Commander”, he said then, “go fetch the Queen, you are his lap dog after all, now if you excuse me”

“Help!”, he heard, from down the corridor, “Open the door!”. Aemma was screaming her lungs out, knocking the doors/

“Get the fuck out of my way!”, He said to the two guards

“No!”, they draw their swords, so Steffon drew his, today he only had one, but that was going to be enough, he started fighting both men at the same time, they were just guards, easily overpower by him, but as he heard the screams of Aemma, his little Princess, he cut down one guard, that dropped then, and then the other without much effort. It was one second in which he got distracted, and forgot about the presence of the man behind him

“Steffon!”, he heard her scream, as a piercing pain crossed his leg. A blade had cut through his thigh from behind, and the pain was so intense it made him fall on his knees to the ground

“Aemma!”, and he fell to the ground, growling and hissing in pain.

Steffon looked back, and found Criston smiling triumphantly

“Craven”, he accused, grabbing his leg, even smiling, “The only way you could defeat me was by stabbing me in the back”

“Technically the leg”, he mocked, pointing at his face with his sword

“I regret not killing you when I had the chance”

“You never will again”, And Criston drew back his sword to give a final blow

“Stop!” Ser Criston stopped his arm mid-swing, looking at Aemond who came walking down the hallway. Ser Steffon looked back, wincing in pain, “you will not harm this man”, he demanded

“He is a traitor”, growled Criston

“He is my mentor”, he corrected, he was followed by more Hightower soldiers, “place him in a cell on the first level, make sure a maester sees to him”, he said, two soldiers kicked the his sword that was near him, and helped him on his feet

“Protect Aemma”, he begged before he was taken down the hallway

“Always”, he said simply, and he turned to the door. It was the moment of truth…

He opened the door, making noise to make sure she heard it and not be taken by surprise, and he entered slowly. He found her by the window, bitter tears falling down her face

“Aemond!”, she called, but she didn’t dare leave her position

“My Aemma”, he returned, looking at her as if it was the first time she was looking at her. She was so beautiful, and now that he was going to marry her… she even looked more gorgeous

“What happened?” she asked, terrorized, “did I do something wrong?”, she asked

“King Viserys is dead”, Aemond whispered

“Oh Aemond! I’m so sorry!”, she whined, she then ran towards him and hugged him tightly, but he didn’t hugged her back

“My mother and Grandfather had decided… to crown Aegon King”, she stilled in his embrace, and then slowly released him to look him in the eye

“But Rhaenyra is the heir”, she whispered

“Not according to most of the court and great families”, he explained simply. Aemma seemed to think of the repercussions of this treachery. And what she found in her own mind scared her

“Rhaenyra will never agree to this, you are taking the throne by force!” she whispered

“Yes, she will have to bend the knee”

“She will never”. She assured him. “Aemond… What about my mother and my family?”

“They have to bend the knee”, he said

“What about me?”, she asked then

“You don’t need to worry”, he said gently, “you are safe, I would never hurt, nor I let anyone else hurt you”

“I’m you hostage then?”, she was scandalized, and scared

“You can’t leave, you will be confined to your rooms, but you will be treated with the utmost respect, we won’t hurt you”, he explained, a hopeful look on his eye.

“We?”, she asked, her eyes shiny with unshed tears, “you are with this?”

“Aegon is the true heir”, he said simply, "in his deathbed, he confided in my mother he wanted Aegon to be King!"

"You mean last night?", she asked

"He did", he whispered

"He didn't make his desire public!", she explained, “You are going to kill us all”. She whined

“No!”, he said, “I would never!”

“Aegon won’t be safe until Rhaenyra and all her children are dead, and my family too!”, she cried, punching him in the chest. Of course, she didn’t even move him an inch, “I've read what Maegor the cruel did to stay on the throne!”, she accused, “and even after he killed two of his nephews, still his claim wasn’t certain”

“We are not Maegor”, he said. This time, seriousness, and he grabbed her tightly by the shoulders, “I will not let anyone harm your family, I love them, you know I do”

“You are betraying them”, you said

“Your mother can come, if she bends the knee, none of this has to escalate, Maekar will inherit Harrenhal, Rhaegar will marry that girl from the north, nothing has to change!”

“Rhaenyra and Daemon will never bend the knee, you truly think my mom will fight them with her own sister?”, she asked then

“She won’t risk you”, he said, certain of his words, “she can come here and stay in the keep”

“She will never!”, she said, “Aemond, please, why are you doing this?”, she asked

“They are my family”, he said gently, “my brother, Helaena, my mother… my nephews!”

“We were also your family”

“You know very well, you just said it, if Rhaenyra claimed the throne her claim would be equally challenged by Aegon, and me, don’t you see it?”, he said gently, “I couldn’t let them hurt my family, Helaena, the children”

“Please Aemond”, bitter tears fell down her cheeks, “I’m scared!”, and he hugged her tightly against his chest

“It’s me, your Aemond”, he whispered against her temple, “you are my Aemma, you are going to be fine, they will bend the knee, and everything is going to be just like before, we could marry”

“I don’t want anyone to die!”

Only when she had stop crying and shaking Aemond could leave her with her favorite dishes for her to eat and regain her strength

“Alright”, he thought, “the worst part was over”

If only he knew this was just the beginning

He went directly to their chambers, all the chambers in his family’s side were connected by a common room, and there is where he found His mother, his dear sister and his nephews playing.

“Aemond!”, called Alicent, she reached for him and he held her arms gently

“mother”

“Is Aemma alright?”, she asked

“She is scared”, he said.

“She knows we will never hurt her, right?”, she asked hopefully

“She is scared of what might happen”, he said then. “She knows it won’t be easy”, Alicent smiled sadly

“I’m angry you didn’t tell me what was going on”, she recriminated

“Otto made it seem like a countermeasure”, he said, “something that was so far away from happening, I never meant to keep it from you, besides he only got close to me a week ago”. He released his mother to sit by her sister

“Darling, how are you doing?”, he asked gently

“There is a beast beneath the boards”, she whispered, looking at him with teary eyes. Aemond held her against his chest and kissed the top of her head

“Everything is going to be alright”, he said. “I promise”

“There is a beast beneath the boards!”, she insisted

“Where is Aegon?”, he asked his mother

He found his brother grotesquely seated in the iron throne, cup of wine in hand

“What do you think you are doing?”, he asked, luckily, they were alone

“Seated in my throne, do you like this image brother?”

“I find it grotesque”, he answered, “Our father’s body is not even cold”, he recriminated

“He is dead Aemond”, he mocked, “And now I’m King”

“Don’t make me regret the decision I made”, he warned

“I will give you everything you want”, he said, with a content smile, “you want Lady Strong? I’ll give her to you, you want to be my hand? You’ll be! Do you want to be the prince of dragonstone? I’ll give you that too”

“Amazing”, he grumbled

“I’ll be crowned tomorrow!”, he giggled, dropping wine everywhere, “and later today, all members of the court will bow to me”

“I don’t know why our father changed his mind at the last second and decided to make you King”, he grumbled

“Well, he did”

“You will found resistance”, he warned

“I don’t care brother”, he said, his face was red and his hair was a mess, he did look more a drunk than a King. “Grandfather will take care of the traitors”

“Of course he will”, Aemond was regretting his decision, and wondered if it was too late

Helaena, Jaehaerys, Jahaera, Maelor, Alicent, Daeron, Aemma

The doors of the throne room opened, trough them appeared Otto Hightower

“Lords and Ladies of the court will appear, to bend the knee, your grace”, he said with a smile that made Aemond’s stomach turn.

So it was a long afternoon of groups of people coming in, the majority of them kneeled, the few of them that didn’t were taken away, never to be seen again.

Aemond didn’t care, not until Ser Arryk brought Aemma in.

“Brother”, Aemond called Aegon, disguised as a warning, as he walked her down the hallway made up by now faithful lords and ladies from the court

“Don’t worry brother”, Aegon giggled, looking at Aemma, who, very quickly, was leaving behind her fear and supplanted it by rage and anger

“Princess Aemma of House Strong and Targaryen”, presented ser Arryk

“Dear niece”, he said with a wide smile, “How are you this day?”

“Sickened”, she answered

“I bring you today a choice”, he said, “swear your allegiance to me, as your King”

“Or…?”, she asked. Aegon smiled and looked at his brother

“I told one day you will get to ride a real dragon, if you kneel before me, I’ll marry you to him”, he said, his head pointing at Aemond. Still, Aemma didn’t respond, “kneel before your new King”, she didn’t

“No”, she said firmly. Aemond was begging her with his eyes to do it, but she wouldn’t, she made her choice

“Kneel, niece, I won’t have you harmed”, he said

“I will never bend the knee to you!”, she said rabidly, “drunken usurper!”, and then she spat on the ground right by the first step towards the Iron Throne.

“You cunt!”, he called enraged, “I will have your tongue!”, the guards were moving to grab her but Aemond stood in their way

“I’ll make her change her mind brother”, he said sharply, grabbing her tightly by the arm and taking her away

“My mother will come, and she will kill you all!”, she screamed to those looking at the scene horrified, “Rhaenyra and Daemon will burn you!”, she managed to say before Aemond dragged her away.

At the end of the day, the small council, now preceded by Aegon, sat one last time

“How are we looking?”, he asked

“I’m afraid we have some deserters”, muttered Otto, “nothing we can’t handle, most of the Lords and Ladies bend the knee, however, we cannot find Ser Harrold Westerling and Ser Erryk”, he continued, “Ser Steffon is in a cell, that leaves us with, Ser Criston and Ser Arryk, sadly the rest of the Kingsguard is with Rhaenyra, so now we have only two loyal Kingsguards”

“It would be wise to replace them”, said Alicent, “Name Ser Criston Commander”

“I agree”, muttered Aegon

“Now is a matter of time before Rhaenyra finds out”, said Otto

“You will tell that cunt that if she doesn’t bend the knee, we will burn her”, said Aegon

“Not in those words”, said Alicent

“After the coronation I will start a diplomatic mission to Dragonstone”, said Otto, “Where is Rhaenys?”

“Still locked in her rooms I gather”, said Alicent

“Will she bend the knee?” Alicent shook her head, “After tomorrow it won’t matter”

“Please, don’t make this difficult”, Aemond begged her

“Without honor we don’t have shit”, she said, “I will not bend the knee”

“I understand that, but you have to give thanks that my brother is more drunk than cruel”

“I can’t stand there while they crown him”

“You will”, he said, “please Aemma, he won’t ask you to bend the knee again, but you have to be smart”

“Alright”, she relented. And Aemond let the most trustworthy lady of his mother to enter her chambers to help her dress

She wore an intricate dress with the colors black, white and red, as a sign of protest, Aemond bit his lower lip when he saw her, but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s go”

They were all dragged to the Dragonpit, unluckily for her, Aemond won’t release her.

As soon as they entered, Aemond grabbed her hand tightly, and she found comfort and butterflies in her belly. She looked up to him, he looked terribly serious, as he led her up a made up platform they had installed, and slowly, was filling up with people, commonfolk, hurried in the Pit to watch the crowning of a usurper.

The entire act was solemn, it was perfect as it was sick, because she knew the truth. He was a false King. And yet, the people cheered for him, they celebrated and chanted his name when Criston Cole, or as she learned to call him, Crispin Coleslaw, planted the Crown of the Conqueror in his head.

But when it was in place, Aegon looked at his family, in the bottom of his chest, he wanted them to see that he had made it, that he was a King, just like he was born to be, but he didn’t find admiration, or respect

Her mother had that unsavory look on her face

Helaena looked away, disgusted

Aemond looked at him with envy, he knew his brother, it was longing what he could find in his eye.

And the only one who was looking right at him, was his niece, Aemma, and he wishes she wasn’t. Those ghostly big eyes were filled with rage

You are going to burn

He shook his head… no… he wasn’t, he was King now, who turned towards his subjects and raised the blade of the conqueror

And people cheered

They cheered chanting his name like a song of glory, one that calls banners to war but it also is sung in the heart of a Holdfast right when the battle is done and it was a victory claimed.

And he enjoyed it

He was born for this he thought

And then the floor broke

The Red Queen roared in his face

He hid behind his mother, cowering

The beast beneath the boards was hungry.

Rhaenys saw the Green family, under her, in her grasp… it was one command away from ending this… and then she saw her, Aemma. The girl reached for her, but Aemond had her tightly grasped

So she made her dragon turn around, and fly away

More notes: before this chapter I realized I had never written Aegon... ups... Anyways this is the demon love-child of the Aegon from the book, who did wanted to become King... and some sort of Joffrey from GOT? hahaha, I needed a good contender in the Greens... I needed a villain.

I really hope you understood Aemond... and his point of view and why he took that decision... he didn't plan anything... otto just told him what they wanted to do and if he could put himself behind it, and him, thinking about his family, said yes to protect them, that's all

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