#please i was supposed to answer asks T_T

[popopretty]

BSD Chapter 105.5

"In the Narrow Room - the Later Part"

I love this chapter so much I have no words T_T Dazai is so precious I would trade the world for him!!

Please note that I typed it out very quickly while being hyped with neither English nor Japanese as my native language, so I might make mistakes here and there. Please forgive me I can't think really straight right now ;v;

SPOILERS AHEAD

Sigma tells Dazai that he cannot believe that Dazai is a normal person because he just single-handedly took down Fyodor, and asks Dazai why he chose him in the beginning instead of all the other usable tools (;v;). Dazai tells him there are 2 reasons, first is Sigma can act as Kunikida's replacement, because it would be very boring if there is no one there to be in awe and admire what Dazai did there. Sigma gets mad at Dazai and assumes that Dazai thinks he is not worthy enough to share the truth. Dazai corrects him saying that is not true, and that Dazai doesn't share anything with him because it's hard for him to understand, especially after he has been used by Tenningosui and others this whole time.

Dazai then decides to share one thing with Sigma and asks him if his ability to switch information works on dead people. Sigma confirms he can, as long as they have not been dead for a very long time. Dazai explains that he wants Sigma to use that ability on Fyodor (who is assumed dead at that point) to read his plan after that and save the ADA at the airport. Sigma is surprised Dazai did everything that he did only to save the ADA, and the words from people who used him in the past starts echoing in his head.

Dazai and Sigma get on an elevator to get to the room where Fyodor is supposed to be drown. While they are waiting, Sigma asks Dazai what is the second reason for Dazai to choose him, to which Dazai nonchalantly answers that if he didnt choose Sigma, Sigma would be silenced by Fyodor or Gogol later. Sigma is shocked, trying to confirm Dazai's intention to save him but Dazai doesn't say no more. Sigma starts to wonder what kind of place is the ADA. He thought Dazai was the same as those guys who used him, but he feels something different now. He thinks about how he wants a home, where he is not used by anyone, and he realizes that, the ADA is not using Dazai, and Dazai is not using the ADA either.

Dazai notices something is strange because the elevator is taking too long. Suddenly the evelator stop and they hear the voice of the time freezing skill user on the radio, begging for her life. Fyodor is seen alive with Chuuya, shooting her dead. Fyodor then tells Dazai over the radio that he is surprised, not by the flooding, but by the fact that Dazai and his 7-year partner's bond was so shallow that Dazai think Chuuya's ability cannot deal with that flood. He reveals that he has had Chuuya break and distort the track/rail of each partition wall when they entered. That way, it will prevent the doors to close properly, letting the water leak outside and allowing them to easily escape. He then says that if one cannot even think of that, they do not have enough qualification to use the gravity manipulation.

Sigma does not get why Fyodor could do that, Dazai then explains to him that Fyodor must have put one of his vampire among the guards, and when he couldn't contact with that vampire anymore, he was able to guess that the control room has been taken. It also means that Fyodor has already been in control of Mersault way before Dazai took his action.

Fyodor admits he was caught by surprirse with the attack though, and even though it is seemingly a suitable trial for a servant of God like him, he is weak and cannot stand it if he catches a cold, so he wants to return the favor by making Dazai and Sigma go through the same trial. After he says so, the elevator starts to be filled with water. The two of them try to get out as the door being locked and Fyodor praying for them to be held in the hands of God.

The chapter ends here. Next issue will be released on March 3 (Japan time). Thanks for reading till the end <3

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #summary #chapter 105.5 #dazai osamu #sigma #fyodor dostoevsky #spoilers #bsd spoilers

[ohyoru]

✿ forgotten dreams ft aether

author's note; please don't come at me for any lore inaccuracy. i'm just here to entertain my brainrot T_T

aether dreams sometimes — of the worlds he had visited, familiar faces of friends, his sister. but lately, he'd been having a series of rather strange ones, or at least, he thought he did. he blamed the leyline he'd encountered recently for messing with his memory. the dreams were vague, but somehow, his heart told him they are important. so when paimon asked about them, he took his time to try and recall them, until one particular dream flickered in his mind like firefly in the dark.

he remembered laying on a grassy hill, safe and at ease, under a huge tree with ethereal glow. its white leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze. under his own palm, another person's hand was placed on his chest. aether couldn't make out your facial features, but he knew you must be so beautiful because he was enchanted. familiar flowers with blue and white petals adorned your hair like a crown. his heart told him he's home, in khaenri'ah.

"do you promise to think about me always when you're away?", you asked, catching him off guard. "i'll think about you every step i take", the him in the dream answered, giving aether a feeling like being punched in the gut because he truly couldn't remember who you are to him. he thought harder about your face. then, he saw your eyes — those classy gems filled with unspoken melancholy.

"i'll always wait for you here so", you leaned down to touch your forehead with his, "promise that you'll come home, please? i don't care how long it'll take. just come home to me". you voice broke at the end, along with aether's heart. it hurt that he still couldn't remember, but the thought of someone waiting for him at home — one that's supposed to have been destroyed — haunted him. did you wait for him until the end?

he was drowning in despair when paimon's voice pulled him back to the present. "are you okay? if it brings you too much pain, you don't have to think about it! aaaa paimon feels so bad now for making you cry!", she floated anxiously. aether had his face in his hands, palms wet with tears and cold sweat. "she waited for me, but i couldn't even remember who she is", he mumbled to himself. he felt paimon embracing the side of his head as a desperate effort to comfort him. he leaned in, silently hoping that at least, your ending wasn't painful.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #aether #aether x reader

[pocketramblr]

AU where during the mall scene, Tomura and Izuku talk more and Izuku becomes enraged at how AFO is treating Tomura and Tomura gets infuriated with how much expectations (and the not helping him with the bone-breaking quirk) Toshinori is putting on Izuku, please. (I just want them to aggressively care, please. T_T)

Aggressively care! Caring through rage and wrath!

1- it starts because Izuku asks Tomura why he's asking him about Stain, and not All For One- that's who he's working for, right? Tomura corrects that's his Sensei, brat, and he doesn't need to be coddled by his teacher like they clearly do at UA- are they too busy on the water slide to practice usj rescues? Are they too busy talking about ads and media to train izuku to not explode his bones with his quirk on live TV?

2- Izuku is offended because he figured the bone breaking thing out, thank you very much, on the UA internship- "so not even their teachers? Some other hero? All Might too busy to actually teach at that school?"- and All Might did his best, actually, and sent him to someone who did know it. AfO didn't even provide Tomura direction, clearly, since he was just wandering around the mall. Was going to the food court supposed to make him a better villain? Help him through the philosophical questions he had?

3- It's Tomura's turn to get offended, because his Sensei is busy and trusts Tomura to find the answer or the person with the answer in time. Besides, Izuku can't say he's better than the heroes, because no heroes or civilians helped him when he needed it, only Sensei did. He's survived this long because of him, Izuku seems to have survived in spite of UA and All Might's faulty teaching.

4- Izuku's heroism sense pings, and he asks how long Tomura has been "helped" by Sensei - how long since the heroes failed him? As long as Tomura can remember. Years. Over a decade, and then some. Izuku realizes AfO is doing something extremely awful, and Tomura isn't even aware he needs to be saved. As Izuku's tone turns to be more in his defense, saying Tomura deserved better and should get out, accept help, Tomura gets more intense and angry at the system that seems to have failed them both, if in different ways.

5- Izuku watches Tomura leave and calls All Might, asking what there even is to be done if All For One kidnapped a 0-7 year old to force him to villainy, what his plan likely is, from the past, where should they go next to save everyone.

Tomura, in turn, leaves and decides he'll prove izuku wrong- he'll pluck him out of UA's neglectful hands over the summer, make him see Sensei directly, understand better. Maybe even join them, powerful against All Might and the heroes that ruined their lives.

+1- THE most awkward statement gathering meeting Naomasa has ever had, including the time he had to get one from his unhappy little sister. He just wants to make sure Toshinori's kid isn't going to get killed or kidnapped on the way home and AfO doesn't know more delicate info, but Izuku's just going on a mumble rant.

#Toshinori and AfO's reactions to these calls are uh likely not along the same lines lol #they're both so aggressively caring but also defensive of their own 'father' figures so..... #aggressive caring about people who deserve it! and about AfO who doesn't! #Gentrychild #pocket talks to people #ask game

[schleepyplays]

[Schleepy] Pupper Me This! Have been getting a lot of questions asking me if I am gonna do more puppy poses, and the answer is... Yes I am-was. I have also recolored a kiddy pool if y'all want it, and yes.... THE BLANKET, I MADE IT. You can read more info below the cut, but the dl link is below the T.O.U T.O.U -Do not reupload my poses or claim as yours! - Feel free to re-edit them - Feel free to recolour my blankie thingy, but please link the mesh back to me cause I almost tore my hair out making it. (I know it's super simple but still) - Do not include my mesh when you release a pose packkk, pls link me plox, I need gratification T_T Download here! Simfileshare, Free 5eva, ad-free! - For the kiddy pool and blankie, just type [schleepy] in buy/build's search and it should bring up the items for ease of use! @ts4-poses

Scene A has 3 puppies with one being visibly annoyed in the middle, what can I say, I love my annoyed animols.

Scene B is a proud mama/dada with their pups.

Scene C is a scene that utilises the kiddie pool! Just place the teleporter in the middle! There are 4 pups! 1,2 and 3 are having a discussion at the front of the pool! If you have seen my previous post, it was basically my whole idea for this scene.

I also made 3 recolors of the kiddy pool because I hate the original pool's patterns and colors, so you can dl them if you want.

Scene D features a pup in two different poses, beneath the blankie! YES! This is my favourite because honestly, I made it for my personal experimentation since I am a blender noob! Again, place the teleporter thingy in the middle of the blanket and voila.

The blankie is also up for download, in 6 swatches! Feel free to recolor but pls link the mesh back to me cause I really spent a lot of time making it even though it was supposed to be simple #noobproblems

OKEH DOKEH, enjoy them! I would also like to thank @simplyanjuta for helping me with the 1001 problems I encountered this time <3

#schleepyposes #schleepycc #sims 4 poses #sims 4 cc #doggo #pupper #sims 4 #ts4 cc #ts4 poses

[the-bloody-sadist]

I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL DEFENDING RANPO he's so cute why would u hate him. noo but you know that one episode with odasaku in it, ranpo was adorable

They should make the animations better at least, like the manga art has so much more personality to it, you go to the anime and it's just...bland. the writing itself could have been way worse... I guess, it'd feel weird with Asagiri not writing it... doesn't change the fact his writing is ass

It's so annoying to be on twt these days cause like, I haven't watched the new episode, and there's so many spoilers 😭😭😭 totally unrelated but they're changing the twt logo to an 'x' like why??? The bird is so iconic, tweets are now gonna be called 'x's like literally what?? thoughts on Elon?

*Wrinkles nose and squints at you reaaaalllll hard* Eugh...what a hill to die on. Also I love that you said that but told me NOTHING about WHY he's a good character and why you will die on this hill (I'm literally RUNNING YOU THROUGH AS WE SPEAK BRO HURRY UP NOW)..."Ranpo was adorable"...PUKES 🤮

Lmao I'm just playing, though, glad you like him! Makes the season way less insufferable for you. *grumbles from the corner*

I'm actually not really that...tilted? I supposed? About animation like a lot of people seem to be when it comes to anime, especially BSD. I do NOT get it. The animation is good, and BSD isn't really worth anything spectacular imo, so like...IT FITS. The only thing I hate is stupid camera angle shit like the fish-eye insanity moments. Please T_T enough...ENOUGH! Plus I read like - the first season's worth of the manga, I think? Or maybe more idk it was a blur. And it literally felt like watching the anime shot-for-shot so...NOT SURE WHAT PERSONALITY THE SHOW IS MISSING. You could be talking about the more recent series manga but man that pacing is so ass there's no way I'm going to read it.

ANYWAY. Stop sending me Ranpo-centric messages or I will stop answering, I MEAN IT.

ALSO I'M FUCKING DYING BECAUSE YOU DID A WHOLE SPIN AND ASKED ME ABOUT ELON MUSK AND THE TWITTER REBRAND?? LMAO

Okay here's my take, you ready?

I DO NOT CARE. LOL, I SERIOUSLY DO NOT CARE!!!!! As long as Twitter is here and I can post naked boys on it, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! I saw the goth porn lookin X rebrand and I said LET'S GO! NOW THEY'LL NEVER LET THEIR KIDS ON IT BECAUSE IT'S OBVIOUS IT'S A PORN APP!! NOW TWITTER KNOWS WHAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE! STRAIGHT PORN! STRAIGHT GRAPHIC ASS AND COCK!

Lol okay that's enough of me for today, hope you get it. I'm so tired of anything people freak out about and join other apps for. They're LOSING their MINDS and I'll just keep scribbling away. I have my audience!! I have my thing!! I'm okay!! I'm hanging out!! I'm CHILLIN!

#sadist’s answered asks #why are these answers getting so long #STOP ASKING ME ABOUT RANPO #bsd SLANDER #asagiri SLANDER!

[perexcri]

hello ! for the ask game: 🍭🎉🪄, pretty please~

i'm so sorry i kept putting this off because i kept forgetting to look for the original questions but thank you anon for asking them T_T 💜

🍭why did you start writing?

ummm...i'm not sure why, actually!! i can make my guesses, but it's hard for me to tell, looking back on my life. i've always enjoyed making up stories in my head, but i didn't start actually writing anything until i was in like 5th grade, which was the school year after i had a major life change happen with my family. i was going through a lot and was kind of acting out in a lot of ways in response to it, and i don't remember a whole lot of that time because of the emotional turbulence of it all, but i do know i started writing around then. and i mostly wrote really silly and stupid stories too...i remember one i wrote was about the beatles, except there was a fifth member who played the banjo(?). looking back, i feel like i can say i started it just as a creative outlet for my tiny little child brain to process the Horrors in the strangest ways possible. i suppose i do much the same now, though it's with more self-awareness (and not me writing about the beatles, thank heavens)

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

i rarely celebrate, actually T_T i think the most i've done is i bought myself a little wooden turtle from the craft store the day after i finished posting to hell and back again! other than that, i mainly just hit post and spend the better part of several hours vacillating between not checking my phone and obsessively checking my phone! i should celebrate more, though. i don't really celebrate for even important things in my life, but i'm beginning to think that should change~

i do think i'm a little better about giving myself credit, though!! i mean, obviously the validation of people actually reading and interacting with something i write is something that makes my brain light up in the same way having a professor tell me i did a good job on a paper or test used to, but i've gotten a lot better about being proud of myself for things i've written!! i've also gotten better at doing it even when not a lot of people interact with it - in fact, some of the works i'm most proud of and give myself the most credit for are some of my least kudosed/bookmarked/what-have-you of my fics!!

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

unfortunately, like the previous answer, i don't really celebrate posting T_T answering this ask has made me realize how sad that is, though, and now i kinda wanna start celebrating. i'm always down for giving myself a little treat heheheh

thank you for the ask, anon!! my apologies for getting to it so late~ :] 💜💜💜

#ask

[ggukkieland]

Okay I am ready for the possible (we are bullet) PROOF World Tour. My personal Wishlist of songs:

Hip-hop phile + All Cyphers (though they did this during Wings Final but that was a goosebump inducing moment for me)

Whalien 52

Moving On

Home

Boyz with Fun + Attack on Bangtan!!!

Tomorrow

NEVERMIND - please please please

SEA!!!!

Love Maze

Fan Songs - 2!3! + Magic Shop

I would like to experience Outro: Tear once again

Would love to witness Answer: Love Myself once more

Would it be too much to ask for all the LY Intros? (Serendipity, Singularity, Epiphany? Euphoria too)

Truth Untold - please this was so good live T_T (this is becoming LY/SY Tour 2.0 at this rate sorry 😅)

Mikrokosmos ending! (still the best concert ending)

Didn’t include any of the title tracks because obviously they’d be part of the anthology. 😁Time to brush up on the fan chants too woot woot.

I think this is a good moment to close the “youth” chapters though I still wonder what was supposed to be next in the Reflection of Youth:

.

#Also #who knows they might release another album this year #I just wonder why they released this on their 9th year instead of...the 10th? #But I think this is a good opportunity for most to get to know or to reacquaint themselves with bangtan core music #and yes a fine way to close the era #bangtan #bts #🌹 core #fangirling moments #ggukkielovesbts

[aasthamoon]

Dear crush,

"कयी ख्वाब दिल तुझको लेकर सजाए पर,

खौफ ये भी कहीं पर सत्य ,

गर ये भी टूटे तो फिर होगा क्या रे ,

मुझे रास आती है खुशियाँ कहाँ रे | "

I can write a whole story over the memories few little moments i had with you. You know you are sometimes my muse when i write something, & for a one or two dance performances as well. There's a little voice echoing on the back of my mind "ig he'll like it." But do i get the answer of the question? *drum rolls* No! Because this is how crush system works. Right.

Now please don't think I'm writing this in agony, to hurt you or to make you repent. I'm sure you know it that i have better ways to do so if i wanted to. But no! I just want to let you know that when people were busy judging me you entered my life like Sushmita Sen did in SRK's life. (referencing the film "main hoon na" here.) Also, I'll like to add Rekha's confession for Amitabh here,

“... who can help but fall completely, passionately, insanely, desperately, hopelessly in love with him. So why should I be singled out? What do I deny? I’m not in love with him? Of course I am. Duniya bhar ka love aap le lijiyega and add some more – I feel that for that person. Bottomline.”

(same girl same T_T )

I never had a senior crush, all my seniors were female, i didn't knew how it feels to fall for someone in close proximity. And only heaven knows how stuck I'm there to this date. I envy people who move on easily, because ig now it might take me aeons. You weren't supposed to last this long. But you did... and now you're more than a short time.

I really don't know what to expect from you. Everything seems too much for me to expect. I can neither blame you, nor me. So i decided to do what i always do. I decided to be grateful. I'm grateful that out of everyone destiny chose you to be my very infamous, "crush syndrome" element. I'm grateful for all the little moments which seems to exist in slow motion now when i revind and play them. I had lived every moment with you thinking "oh! This might be the last time I'll be able to see him live in this lifetime." I'm grateful for making them dreamy.

Lastly i would really like to mourn over the fact that when you were building your sky where was i? Does my thought ever crosses your mind? See these things, precisely, are too much to ask for. But just to let you know, I'm paving my way and I haven't forgotten about you, Yet. I'm trying to. But, as i stated earlier , you are more than a short time for me and that's my truth and I'm accepting this here. Shamelessly. Now Idk how to conclude this so let me insert the concluding lines of a favourite song of mine and maybe your's as well,

"मैं हूं शब तू सुबह,दोनो जुड के जुदा|

मैं हूं लैब तू दुआ, दोनो जुड के जुदा

मदनो मशुका, दिलबारा, मदनो रे..."

As this song fades into oblivion in the background the night have come to an end. have to wake up early, remember i'm paving my way as well. See you soon.

From yours hopelessly romantic girl,

Aastha.

[ps: it takes a lot of guts to be this candid about crushes because it's always your self respect that gets crushed. Still here I'm. The maddest woman this city have ever seen.]

[maibi]

Last Time

Gojo Satoru x reader

Summary: after your break-up with Gojo you go to his apartment, which you used to share, to get all your stuff. But you thought you were doing bad, until you saw him. 

A/N: this was gonna be angst with a very bad ending, but while writing I was hurting myself so I decided to make it a little less shitty T_T I'm so pussy wtf (it’s still kinda sad)

——————————————————————————

It’s been a month. A month after your break up with Gojo. You had been together for almost 5 years and leaving each other may have been one of the hardest decisions. But you had no choice. You had to in order to be able to leave it there. You need to start anew, you had to leave it there in order to live your life. Even though you still loved each other, it felt like the best option, at least for you.

In order for you to be able to live independently, to make your own money you had to take the job offer overseas. But Gojo had to stay there, for his students. And you didn’t want to make it any harder for him. His students needed him and you knew for a fact that he needed his students. His students were amazing and taking Gojo away from them would only hurt everyone.

In those 5 years of being together you had been living together for almost 3 of them. After the break-up you hadn’t returned to that home, staying at a friend’s place that was barely ever home. You needed to get your stuff, but it all still felt so sad. You couldn’t bring yourself to, but you had to stand strong. You had texted him, telling him you’d get your stuff. You filled your car with boxes to help you move out your stuff and while you drove to your shared apartment. Or at least what was your shared apartment.

You stayed in your car while being parked, fiddling with the ends of your shirt. You picked your nails and your mind was thinking about so many things at the same time. You didn’t know how you’d approach him and you didn’t know how in the world you would pull yourself together. You were still not over him and only thinking about the fact that he might be will just ruin you. 

With a sigh you stepped out of your car and took a few of the boxes that you could carry to Gojo’s door. You knocked on the door and silently prayed that he wasn’t home. Everything would have been easier if you still had a key, but with you rushing out you left yours with him. 

Your head shot up when the door was opened. You were greeted with a sleepy Gojo. His hair was tousled and his shirt was wrinkly and pulled down so much that his collarbones were visible. You looked away and couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. 

“Hey”, he said in low voice, almost inaudible. “Uh- come in”, he said.

You wanted to pick up the boxes, but he beat you in doing so. He took all of them inside for you, but didn’t say another word. You stayed at the entrance of the living room while he walked in and placed the boxes on the ground. 

You saw take out food and cup noodles and it made you wonder if he had been eating properly. He looked skinnier, as if he wasn’t before. The house wasn’t a mess, but it wasn’t that clean either. It made you wonder if he had been taking care of himself. 

He saw you staring at the table and immediately cleaned up any evidence of take out food. “I haven’t had the time to clean up yet”, he said to you with a sad expression as he walked to the kitchen.

You couldn’t emotionally take this and just wanted to leave. If you saw him like this for even more than a second you knew you’d change your mind, but you couldn’t. You had to do what was for the better, he could easily find someone new, that’s how amazing of a person he was.

“You can come in you know, I don’t bite”, he said as he walked back in the living room. 

You took a step forward and felt the tears in your eyes sting. You really did love him and leaving like this really hurt you. “I’ll start with the bedroom”, you said as you took a box and walked to the bedroom.

You opened the door and looked at the oh so familiar room. It felt like it had been untouched since the day you left, but the changed sheets told you otherwise. His scent filled your nose and you just wanted time to stop right there. 

You walked in further and saw that he hadn’t touched any of your stuff. You noticed that one of your shirts was on the bed, on his side and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that he probably did the exact same thing as you. You had left this place with only a few clothes and you say you had one of his shirts on your side of the closet and you took it with you.  Even though his scent had worn off, you slept with it almost every night. How childish it may sound, it calmed you. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to pack up any of this. You sat down on the bed, looking around you. A tear rolled down your cheek. This wasn’t supposed to be this dramatic. You had thought to yourself.

“Can I come in”, you heard Gojo say from the entrance. 

You shot your head to the side, wiping away a tear. You nodded.

He sat down next to you, but left enough space between you. Was it strange that you wished he didn’t? But he thought you just needed space from him. He didn’t know about the whole new job thing. You thought it would have been better if he didn’t know. Because if he did, he would consider leaving with you. And like you thought before, you couldn’t do that to his students. 

“I see you didn’t touch any of my stuff”, you said, not looking at him.

“I mean, how could I?”, he said. “I still love you after all.”

“Don’t say that”, you said in a whisper while dropping your head..

“Why? Will it make you change your mind?”, he asked in a low tone. 

you shook your head. It just made you feel guilty. Which you actually were. You stood up from your place and walked to the desk that was in front of the window. There was a picture of you and Gojo. The picture both of you loved so much. The two of you on the beach, you knew it was cliche, but you sill loved it very much. A stranger took that picture and you can’t forget about how amazing that day was.

“Was it something I did?”, Gojo asked.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to. You weren’t used to seeing him like this. So vulnerable, so sad. You thought he would be over you, but he seemed to be doing worse than you. The bags under his eyes and his slightly pale skin made you think that perhaps leaving him wasn’t the right decision to make. But you needed this job. 

“Just please tell me what went wrong”, he said. “I really can’t do this anymore.”

You didn’t say a word back at him. You were scared that if you kept talking that the both of you would just break down. You knew for yourself that you where on the edge, but you could tell he was too. 

“I just don’t understand what went wrong. Was it something I did? Cause if it was-”, he said stopping mid way to take a deep breath, “-just please tell me what it is that I did wrong so I can make it up to you. I can’t loose you.” He said the last in a whisper. 

Tears formed in your eyes. You were scared that if you talked right now, you wouldn’t be able to hold your tears in front of him anymore. 

“For god’s sake just say something. anything”, he said louder now. “I can’t do this anymore, just please-!”

“Don’t yell at me”, you said in a whisper; “Please don’t yell at me.”

Tears were falling from your eyes and they didn’t stop. He was silent for a moment and started mumbling to himself. Blaming himself again. You heard him walking up to you, but you didn’t turn around just yet. You waited to see if he would do anything, but he didn’t. So you turned around and the second that you did he slowly pulled you in his embrace and placed his head on your neck. 

“I’m so sorry. I know- I know I can be a dick from time to time and I know that I get cocky. I know I'm not the best human in the world, but please at least allow me to try and change. Please just- please just don’t leave me like this”, he said as his voice cracked in the end. 

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I really, truly am. But this isn’t about you, this is mainly about me and my decisions. I-” You wanted to say it to him, you wanted to tell him you still loved him, but telling him right now might just ruin everything. 

“I can’t live without you. I really truly can’t. This was the shittiest month I've ever had and I can’t stop thinking about you. Just please, don’t leave my side.”

“I don’t have a choice, Satoru”, you said, in a whisper while your tears were falling falling from your eyes on his shirt. You could smell him and his sweet scent made you cry even harder. This was the last time you would be able to be this close to him, this was the last time he would touch you and this was the last time he would be talking to you like this. Because you were leaving and nothing was stopping you. 

#gojo Satoru #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojou #gojou smut #itadori yuuji #megumi fushiguro #kugisaki nobara

[n0bamak1s]

mutual - mai zenin x reader

request: “Could you write mai x non-binary s/o, where mai is realizing that she has a crush on s/o, it'd be funny to see her reaction when the s/o get asked by todo before they spar, abt the kind of woman s/o like, and s/o just shrug and answer 'mai, i guess'.” - @814519

summary: reader seems to take a liking to mai, who refuses to acknowledge her schoolgirl crush on them, and todo somehow manages to be the one to get them to stop dancing around their feelings for each other. (genre: fluff, mutual pining, slice of life-y)

warnings: swearing, mentions of fighting, mostly just fluff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i’m sorry to take a long ass hiatus again but i have some fics i’m working on rn!! thank you all sm for being so patient with how slow i can be T_T btw this one includes some very mild miwa x reader as well just as a heads up lol!

when you first transferred schools in order to master your cursed technique, your first instinct was to raise an eyebrow at your classmates. the lineup of students in your school consisted of a boy who might as well be a bodybuilder, a blonde girl whose hair seemed to defy gravity, an awkward looking stoic boy clad in traditional clothing, a girl with a gun holster on the side of her baggy pants who wore a bored expression as her gaze met yours, and a normal looking blue haired girl standing next to some rusty looking robot. with all their strange hairstyles and odd clothing choices, combined with how nonchalant they were about their mechanical companion, they might as well be the cast of some forgotten sitcom from the 80s.

after introducing yourself to your stiff new classmates, you were whisked away to be led to your dorm by the blue haired girl (would you call her a “bluenette”?) who you learned was called miwa. as you walked, you asked her questions about her cursed technique, to which she sheepishly smiled and explained how she was the most “useless” of the students.

in response to her shameless self deprecation, you simply scoffed and sent an easy smile her way. “you really shouldn’t beat yourself up like that miwa, if you do it’ll be much easier for your opponents to.” despite the teasing nature of your words, you really did hope you’d managed to encourage her a bit.

miwa turned to you with bright eyes and a sincere smile. “that means a lot, really! it’ll be so nice to have an upperclassman here who isn’t so intimidating. i’m always so nervous to ask mai for help with stuff, so it’s nice to know you believe in me!”

her smile was infectious as you mirrored your junior’s facial expression. “there’s no need to be scared of them you know, believe me, just because they’re older doesn’t mean they have any idea what they’re doing.”

she shrugged in response. “i guess you might be right, this morning mai was practically shaking in her boots about getting to meet you, so maybe it’s all just a tough facade!”

you thought back to the girl who had introduced herself as mai.

what first caught your eye was the way she carried herself. while next to her other classmates as she introduced herself to you, arms crossed over her chest and back straight, as if it was an attempt to look high and mighty. rather than a proper introduction, she simply told you her name, before looking away boredly. the both of you chose to ignore the way todo teased her, before turning to introduce himself with a smug smile. he opened his mouth to seemingly ask you something, but was quickly cut off by mai stomping on his foot, sending him a harsh look. she glanced back at you with a slightly softer expression and a monotone apology for “his idiocy.”

you chuckled quietly at the idea of the girl who presented herself as so blunt and cold getting all nervous at the idea of your arrival.

breaking you out of your reminiscence, miwa waved her hands in front of her nervously as she turned to you. “just please don’t tell her i said that!” her guilty expression rivaled that of a kid who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

before she could continue in her nervous exclamation about how intimidated she was by her senior, you grabbed her hands that had been motioning wildly to match her words. “don’t worry miwa, i’d never sell you out like that.” you let out a small chuckle as you examined the genuine worry on her face, to which she just sheepishly smiled. it was funny to you how scared she seemed of her seniors, but it couldn’t help you from getting an odd urge to want to protect the small girl.

“besides,” your smile turned sly “, if what you say is true, i bet mai would be too shy to even talk to me!” a loud laugh escaped your lips as you continued your way down the dorm halls with long strides. behind you, miwa sped up when remembering she was supposed to be the one escorting you to your dorm.

“come on, that’s not fair to hang it over my head like that!” she whined as she managed to match your pace.

as miwa trailed ever so slightly behind you, you caught sight of a newly familiar head of dark hair (under the fluorescent lighting you couldn’t entirely tell whether it was green or black.)

“mai!” you called out to the girl you’d been newly acquainted with, raising one hand in greeting and slinging the other around your very embarrassed looking juniors shoulders.

the girl you’d shouted to turned to you with heavy lidded eyes that gave her face a bored, almost annoyed, expression. her turning your way was quickly followed by todo, who you guessed had been standing next to her, glancing over the hallway corner to meet your gaze. those two made an odd pair, from what you could tell. in contrast to mai’s impassive greeting, todo had introduced himself with booming confidence, before going on to complain to utahime that he’d have to leave in order to make it back to his dorm to score tickets for a concert featuring takeda. in the moment, you had to stifle a laugh at the memory of such an intimidating looking dude having a huge crush on an idol with absolutely no shame about it.

mai opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by todos roaring voice. “hey new kid!” his demeanor had been as confident as you remember, despite the fact that you were pretty sure he’d forgotten your name in the short time from when you had left to see your dorm. you gave him a smile and a lopsided wave in response.

“did you snag those tickets you were worried about earlier todo?”

“easily.” he bragged as if you cared about getting a pair of tickets for yourself. “however, earlier i meant to ask you a question, but SHE,” he pointed a thumb annoyedly at his companion, “very rudely interrupted me by stepping on my foot.”

“todo…” mai’s tone seemed warning as her eyes flickered between you and him.

“as much as i would LOVE to hear what your question is todo, i really do have to go unpack” you smiled abashedly, pulling miwa to your side, who nodded with wide eyes at how unphased you were.

“it might be better to ask when we spar later.” he shrugged. “that way i can really hear your impulse answer.” he crossed his arms, clearly to look intimidating.

“works for me! i’ll see you then too, mai.” you winked at her as you tugged miwa along behind you. mai huffed at your embarrassing show of flirtatiousness, but you didn’t miss the slight flush of her cheeks as she turned from you while rounding the corner.

even as you were close to the door of your dorm at the end of the hall, you could still hear mai berating todo for how embarrassing he was.

“i think she likes me.” a cat like grin overtook your face as you stopped in front of your dorm.

“utahime said your uniform would be folded on your bed, once you’re changed you can join us for sparring.” miwa smiled bashful smile. she’d probably chosen to ignore your previous statement in hopes of not being dragged into any drama.

“thanks miwa!” you grinned and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, to which she simply looked away timidly.

“it’s no problem, really.” she waved off your appreciation. “but between the two of us, i think you may be right about mai liking you.”

she bowed before running off, probably to get ready for sparring, leaving you grinning like an idiot in response to her revelation.

maybe the feeling was kinda mutual.

you were quick to change into your all black uniform pants and jacket, then breaking into a stride to the yard where sparring took place. that was, until you realized you were wandering rather aimlessly considering, you know, you didn’t really know where the yard was yet. peering around the hallway, your eye caught on an oh so familiar girl adorned in baggy black pants.

“hey mai!” you almost had it in you to feel bad for approaching her yet again.

almost.

“i’m kinda lost, d’you think i could walk with you?”

she nodded a yes in response, motioning with a hand for you to follow her.

after a one too many moments of awkward silence, you decided you’d have to be the one to bite the bullet and break it. “you know that thing todo was saying earlier about having a question he needed to ask me?” she looked up in a way that made her seem as if she’d just been brought out of being lost in her thoughts.

“what of it?”

“do you happen to know what it was? he seemed pretty serious about it.” well, as serious as todo could get.

to your surprise, mai attempted to stifle a chuckle, before a laugh managed to slip past her.

“it’s this totally dumb thing he likes to do.” she tilted her head slightly back so she looked at the ceiling as she talked. “to size people up, he likes to ask them what their type in women is.”

you let out a snort as you laughed, though you couldn’t say you were surprised.

“he seems like such a hopeless romantic, it’s hilarious.”

“yeah.” a soft smile painted her face. “but you’d better get an answer ready, if he thinks you’re too boring he’ll beat your ass.”

“really now?” you raised an eyebrow, to which she nodded in confirmation. “what does he classify as ‘boring’?”

she shrugged. “depends. whenever someone prefers personality he either beats the shit out of them or starts crying.” it was clear in her tone how exasperated her friend made her.

“what did you say? when he asked you?” you turned to face her fully, which made her realize how close together your faces were. for just a beat, she paused to examine your expression. despite your earlier teasing, you seemed sincere in your question. either you were oblivious to the blush spreading across her face, or you chose not to tease her for it.

before an answer could leave her parted open lips, she was interrupted by a voice calling both of your names.

“hey toshinori!” you smiled at the stone faced boy in front of you as you used mai’s shoulder as an armrest.

“it’s noritoshi.” the monotony in his voice made you stifle a laugh. “and you guys are running late for sparring, what were you even doing?”

her eyes glowered in his direction, clearly not in the mood to play hall monitor with him. “i was just being welcoming to our new classmate.”

he ignored her passive aggressive response and turned to you. “todo keeps asking where you are, so you might wanna hurry up.” with a swift turn, he began walking down the hallway with long strides.

once he seemed out of earshot, you burst into laughter, and from your arm you could feel mai’s shoulders shake from repressing a giggle.

“he walks like a goddamn penguin!” you referred to how his arms were wide at his sides and his stiff steps.

“him and mechamaru walk the exact same way, i’m starting to think he might just be a more advanced robot.” her dry tone was combatted by the way the corners of her mouth turned up in a lopsided grin.

“though, we should probably get going, even if i get a pass for being new here, i’m not sure how utahime would react to you being late.”

you didn’t notice how her eyes softened at your concern for her as you beckoned for her to lead the way.

“i don’t think she’d mind, after all utahime loves me for my pep and bubbly spirit.” her voice oozed with sarcasm while you smiled to yourself about how you’d managed to get her to loosen up.

the walk to the sparring field was quick, and it made you wonder how much time you two had taken just talking at the end of the hallway. you were greeted by the sight of your strangely styled classmates (plus the literal robot) beginning to split into pairs. before you could turn to mai with the question of partnering up, you were greeted by a todo with a firm hand on your shoulder.

“we’re partnering up, new kid!” it was more of a declaration than an offer. you smiled awkwardly as his shadow enveloped your figure, seeing mai be whisked away by momo out of the corner of your eye. if you’d looked close enough, you’d have been able to see the annoyed look mai sent at todo and the smug smile momo flashed at mai and her obvious display of jealousy.

you planted your feet on the ground that was caked in dust and prepared yourself into a fighting stance, with fists raised and legs steady. though it seemed you’d gotten prepared to defend from an attack that wasn’t coming. instead, todo marched over to you confidently. mai glanced over from her sparring, knowing exactly what was coming.

he called your name in his usual booming voice, which you were surprised he actually knew.

“what is your type in women?” he towered over you, his expression dead serious despite his absolutely ridiculous question.

feeling mai’s eyes trailing you, you glanced over to her. she mouthed something to you about not saying personality. you failed to hold back a chuckle, which seemed to snap todo out of his intimidating glower.

his gaze followed yours, which was still focused on mai for the briefest of moments.

“ohhhh i get it…you’ve got a thing for mai, huh?” he sounded like a child about to blackmail their sibling.

a furious blush overtook mai’s face practically instantly, while momo covered her mouth with a hand to suppress a laugh. you glanced between a boastful looking todo and a tomato looking mai.

“yeah i guess you could say she’s my type.” you shrugged nonchalantly, to which you could hear mai sputtering something about how you were just trying to embarrass her. miwa had a sheepish look on her face as she walked over to check on mai, though it only seemed to make her more flustered when miwa asked if she wanted to go to the nurse.

while witnessing the admittedly charming trainwreck happening in front of you, there was a moment for you to look back at todo.

“are you CRYING?”

“i have no shame in it. it’s like mai is my daughter and i’m walking her down the aisle at her wedding.”

“it’s absolutely nothing like that, todo.”

he ignored your blatant confusion at his reaction. “young love is so beautiful. you have my full blessing to date mai.” he sniffles and wiped his nose, then held it out for you to shake, to which you scrunched your nose in disgust.

“thanks for the ‘blessing’ and all, but now that we’re done with that, i think i should go spar with lover girl over there.” you threw your thumb over your shoulder to point to mai.

“you guys should join me and takeda for a double date! we can arrange a date once she finally answers my calls.” todo had a large grin, shameless about his tear stained cheeks.

“how about it?” you raised an eyebrow at mai, who had become significantly more composed in the time you hadn’t been looking in her direction.

“absolutely not.” she deadpanned, though her impassive look didn’t last very long as she leaned over to whisper in your ear, cracking a small smile reserved for you. “i’d rather we just hang out without that oaf, you know it’s embarrassing for them to see how you get me acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush.”

the moment paused for a split second for her to glance at todo, who was staring you down like a disapproving father.

“plus lord knows takeda isn’t answering him anytime soon.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

#mai zenin x reader #mai zenin imagine #mai zenin x you #zenin mai x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #mai zenin #zenin mai #jjk imagines

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sea Salt: Two

Summary: As a noblewoman from a small (and nefarious) kingdom in the Stepstones and quiet Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Elia Martell, she is accustomed to being looked through rather than looked at. The only exceptions to this rule are Prince Oberyn and Lord Willas Tyrell but they are often far from the dark shadows of the Red Keep or Dragonstone. She finds comfort in her quiet friendship with the princess and the delight of the darling royal children. But as Prince Rhaegar places a wreath of blue roses in the lap of Lady Lyanna Stark and rebellion starts to rage, she knows she will have to live up to her reputation. But luckily, she seems to have two allies lurking in the shadows.

Pairing(s): Willas Tyrell/F!Reader/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand

Word Count: 24.6k (T_T)

Rating for this chapter: NC-17 for a bit of violence and mention of blood and warfare, my over-use of italics and using time jumps, and my love for ASOIAF lore. Ellaria is the only one in this relationship with a functioning braincell and reader is always happy to learn new things (ie: they have sex. they like it) If you have any questions about the lore or who is who or need clarifications, please just ask! I’m playing fast and loose with a bit of it, and a few ages, too. But I’m always happy to answer any questions you have! Thank you to everyone who was so kind about the first chapter and gave me ideas for this one. I love you. 

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites) 

Chapter Two: Salt of the Sweat

Read Chapter One Here!

Or read this chapter on Ao3!

The quill was running dry as she finished the missive. A knock came at the door and her uncle Hammond walked in. “Are you ready?”

Y/N nodded and sealed the letter, knowing the ink would smear in her haste. She handed it off to a handmaiden to be sent as soon as they were aboard the small, unmarked ship, before bending down and gathering both Aegon and Jon into her arms with a now-practiced ease. The two babies each pushed out a hand to wrap their little fingers around the silver hanging beneath her collar, enjoying the warmth the delicate metal exuded. The sun charm glinted in the growing moonlight.

Hammond nodded, a bit sad, and kissed her forehead as he stepped to her side. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

Prince Oberyn- The babes are growing strong. We depart Skilliga tonight. Thank you for the gold and for the necklace. I have sent Arthur and Dawn home with Ashara. Please be gentle with her, she is my last true friend aside from you and Willas. I do not know when I shall be able to write to you again, but I will try.

Ashara had arrived on the sharp rock shores of Skilliga only a few weeks after Arthur had come, holding a bag of gold from House Martell and a small box with a delicate silver necklace tucked inside—a long chain of braided silver and two charms hung at the bottom; a shark and a sun. It was beautiful, truly. Far more beautiful than anything Y/N had ever owned. Skilliga, for all its charms, did not favor pretty things. “Elia had the finest smith in Sunspear craft it for you—it was supposed to be your nameday present.” Her smile was sad. “She swore me to secrecy, you know. Wanted it to be a surprise.”

And the babies were fond of it, too. Their little hands always searched for it when she held them and she would dangle it above their cribs when they would fuss at night, letting the moonlight catch the polished silver. They seemed to like it.

My Prince- Rhaenys has taken to reading to the boys at night—I think she has memorized the story you sent. It hardly leaves her side. It was the book your mother read to you and Elia when you were younger, was it not? Filled with sparkling waters and talking turtles. She grows stronger and brighter every day. I know you would be proud of her. I know Elia would be, too. I miss her more than words can say. I try to tell Aegon and Elia all I know of her, and I tell Jon what I can of Lyanna, but I feel I am a poor replacement for their true mothers. I know you and Prince Doran are biding your time and I have taken your advice to not stay in one place for too long. But I do hope I am able to see you again soon.

She spent her lonely nights reading about the history she was not taught in Skilliga—of the flight of the Targaryens to Dragonstone before the Doom, of Garin the Great of the Rhoynar, of magic she did not know could be real. All of it. The world seemed so much smaller and larger now, somehow at the same time.

Her book snapped shut at the sound of one of the boys starting to cry in their bassinet. She rose from her cushioned chair and stepped toward their room, ready to help soothe him but was unsurprised when she saw Rhaenys leaning over Aegon’s crib, humming a little tune as she rubbed at her brother’s tummy, a move Elia was fond of when her children were fussy—Rhaenys must have seen Elia do it before…well, before. Aegon’s cries quickly quieted and Y/N smiled at Rhaenys who looked a little bashful as she turned and spotted her in the doorway.

“Would you like some honeyfingers, sunshine?”

Lord Willas- Lys was strange. But it kept Aegon safe—his silver hair did not look out of place here. But Rhaenys did. A man at the market spotted her—tried to steal her from my arms and screamed of how the Usurper would grant him gold and titles if he brought her back to Westeros. I lost my favorite dagger in his neck. We set sail in just a few moments.

Pentos had been next. And a handful of years passed in the shadows of a Pentoshi tower. The children still kept close to her, hiding behind her legs in the market when someone walked too close or looked too long. But they were growing each day.

Balerion, who was now very large and very mean to anyone he did not like, was the one constant in their lives, it seemed. He had grown even meaner since they had started to travel through Essos, purring contentedly only if in the laps of Rhaenys or her brothers—he would only grace Y/N with his presence when Rhaenys was busy with her studies and he knew not to disturb her and Jon and Aegon were involved with the tutors she managed to hire. He would curl up in her lap and she would have to remain very still if she did not want his razor sharp nails to puncture her breeches (again) in retaliation for being woken from his nap before he was fully rested.

But his fur was very soft and he made the little ones smile—she could take a few moments to breathe, nowhere to go, no one to meet, if it kept the cat happy. But today he was batting at the slip of parchment she was trying to read. It was from a Pentoshi Magistrate named Illyrio or something—Balerion had shredded the bottom—who was hoping to meet with her (and the children he had heard rumors of for ‘quite some time’) and promised more riches and more ‘protection.’ He had ulterior motives, she was sure, but she needed all the help she could find.

Balerion gave up on the shredded parchment and leapt from Y/N’s lap before stretching for a moment beside her feet. His big, fluffy head turned this way and that, as if looking for something. And then, as if on cue, Rhaenys darted out of the manse’s solar and scooped the cat up into her arms and placed a kiss on the top of his head. It earned her a rumbling purr in return.

“How would you feel about meeting someone for supper tonight, sunshine?”

My Prince- Congratulations on your newest daughter! An even eight—you must be so proud. The way you write of Ellaria is fit for songs. I know your daughters will flourish with your guiding hand. I will tell Rhaenys and Aegon of their new cousin, they are always happy to hear of their family. They miss you. I miss you.

The dinner had been just as dull and filled with lies and platitudes as any other meal they had shared with noblemen and dignitaries over the last handful of years in Essos. Illyrio was very self-assured and tried to tell Y/N that he wanted to see a Targaryen on the throne of Westeros again. “It is better for business, you see. This whole Rebellion has greatly affected my profits.”

“And that is all you care for? Profits?”

Illyrio’s smile was slimy but Y/N curled her fingers into the loose silk of her skirts to avoid reaching for the knife balanced on the edge of her plate. It would not do for her to threaten a(nother) host. “I would not be opposed to being raised to the Master of Coin when the rightful heir takes his place on the throne. It was nasty business what happened to that Dornish Princess.”

“Her name was Elia,” Y/N ground out.

“But I do suppose she served her purpose, bringing these beautiful children into the world.”

Y/N let go of her skirts and reached up to touch the knife. If he said another word, it was going into his eye and she would just steal everything she could hold. Perhaps that was a better plan than listening to him talk anyway. She glanced to her left to see Rhaenys looking down at her lap, little hands folded over her skirt. Hearing anything about her mother usually made her grow quiet and sad. Y/N, not even thinking of what it meant, moved her hand from the knife to cover Rhaenys’ hands. Providing comfort instead of violence.

(Mayhaps that could still come later.)

Rhaenys looked up at her and gave her a small smile, followed quickly by three squeezes to her fingers, a silent signal they had developed over the years to let the other know they were well.

“I swear it, your grace,” Illyrio said, staring at Aegon, another slimy smile on his face. “I will see you on your throne. You shall be king.”

“He is a child,” Y/N bit out. “Do not push him for something he cannot be sure he wants.” Aegon was barely speaking in full sentences that made sense, how could he know if he wanted some stupid crown? Just last night, Rhaenys had pulled her featherbed into her brothers’ rooms to sleep near them because they would not calm down until she was near them. He was a child. Born to royalty, yes, but a child still.

Illyrio laughed, a grating sound that had Rhaenys tightening her grip on her hand. “Of course, but you must teach him his responsibility. In secret, I know the highborn of Westeros are toasting to your survival, stitching dragons into their tapestries, and will come to your aid when you call for banners.”

That would have been a nice thought if anyone knew he was alive. Oberyn and Doran both had told her that most spoke of how they ‘knew’ Rhaenys and Aegon had been killed when the Lannisters sacked King’s Landing—and some others ‘knew’ that Lady Lyanna and her unborn babe had both died at the Tower of Joy before the end of the Rebellion. “I’ve been more preoccupied with keeping him breathing.”

“I don’t wan’ be king.”

Everyone turned to look at Aegon who seemed near tears.

“What, little one?” Y/N asked as she pulled him into her lap. His hand instantly grabbed at the necklace and he pressed his face into her shoulder.

“No king.” He sniffled and shook his head. “Rhaenee is king.”

The magistrate guffawed and Y/N once again looked at the knife. She could do it. “You will be king.” His smile did not falter. “But I do have gifts for you all.” Illyrio, unaware of how close he had come to death, waved a hand and a servant quickly came and placed a large chest on the table, rattling the cutlery and plates.

Jon startled in his little raised chair at her side but Rhaenys was immediately intrigued, even as she reached out to calm Jon with a gentle hand to his back. The lid opened and…

It was a…rock. A pretty rock, but a rock. It was a smoke color with ripples of orange and yellow. Illyrio waved a hand again, indicating she was allowed to grasp it, and she did as Aegon continued to press against her chest. It was heavier than she thought it would be and a little cold to the touch. Her eyes drifted to the small stack of gold also in the chest.

“What am I to do with this rock?” Y/N held the thing aloft with an arched eyebrow, holding back the sneer she felt growing. “Should I crack it open? Will it give me the ability to breathe life into my dearest friend’s lungs again? Will I be able to kill the usurper on the Iron Throne from across the Narrow Sea?”

“It is a dragon egg, my lady,” Illyrio said, enunciating each syllable as if that would help her understand. “Extremely valuable.”

Y/N turned and handed Rhaenys the egg, watching her little fingers curl around it immediately. She reached out and scooped out the gold and stood. The three children quickly did the same, little Aegon still in her arms and Rhaenys grabbing Jon from his chair. “I thank you for your time and meal, Magistrate. I shall think on your offer.”

Illyrio hurried to stand as well. “Yes, as their regent, I do value your opinion-”

But they were already turned away and walking out the door.

Lord Willas- I wish I could show you the gardens of Volantis. I am sure they pale in comparison to Highgarden, but they are lovely even if the people and customs are intolerable. The dried petals you hid in the folds of your last missive were a welcome surprise—a merchant woman insisted I have them turned into a perfume and it is a delightful scent. I can almost imagine the green grass and pink roses you have told me about so many times. I hope I will be able to see them soon. The air here is so heavy, it gets hard to breathe. Aegon and Jon do enjoy the elephants that the noblemen insist we ride everywhere. My sunshine likes to steer the large animal when the streets are clear, too. But please, tell me more of your home. Has your father filled the aviary with more hawks? Are the pups growing strong?

Y/N pulled the sword out of the back of the last man, listening to him gurgle on his own blood before he dropped to the worn wooden planks of the dock. Two more bodies were half submerged in the water a few paces back.

Volantis had turned on them, too. But the gold she had taken from the bodies of the would-be kidnappers (or assassins, she had not stopped to ask) would give them a little more cushion when they arrived in Lorath.

“Y/N?” Rhaenys called out from her hiding spot on the small ship docked just behind her. Her head appeared over the railing of the boat as Y/N wiped the blood off her sword onto her breeches before placing it back in its scabbard. “Did you get the pomegranates?”

Y/N turned and shuffled back a few steps to pick up the large bag she had dropped in the scuffle and held it up with a smile, ignoring how she could feel blood drying on her face. “I did, sunshine!”

Little Shark- Ellaria has been insistent that I introduce you as soon as we are able. I believe you would make dangerous friends. Lorath may not be the most exciting of places to hide, but I know you and the little ones will be safe. My family owes you a great debt. Doran has had to stop me from loading up my family and sailing to wherever you have landed. I have dreamt of you, little shark. I remember how you would smile and laugh. I remember how the scent of the sea seemed to be pressed into your skin. All of this has haunted me. You have haunted me.

Rhaenys was fond of just holding the silly little dragon egg and seemed to find a strange comfort by simply being near it, even as the years continued to trickle by and the stone egg was unchanged. “It feels warm, does it not?” She asked, holding out the egg toward Y/N.

But it did not feel warm to Y/N as she brushed her fingers against the strange orange ripples. It felt like cold rock. “Maybe I do not have the magic touch,” she said with a wink.

“Rhaenys!” They both turned at the shout of her name. Aegon and Jon, now seven and eight, rushed toward them. Little wooden swords clutched in their hands and their trousers covered in dirt. She had left them, only momentarily, to whack at each other in their garden.

Rhaenys was nearly bowled over by her brothers as they leapt at her and she tried to catch them, always protective. “What troubles you?” She asked as she managed to right them, batting away their swords as they absentmindedly still held them pointed up, ready to spar, while still holding onto her precious dragon egg.

“There is a strange man at the door.”

Ice went down Y/N’s spine and she hurried to push the children toward the back of the room, hiding them away in the back of the wardrobe. She handed Rhaenys a blade of her own, barely larger than the girl’s hand. “Remember what I taught you, sunshine?”

“Eyes, throat, thigh,” Rhaenys said, voice shaking just the slightest bit.

“Yes. And do not come out until I come for you.” She kissed each of them on the forehead and shut the door quietly, hoping against hope that it would not be the last time she would see them. But she steeled herself and patted at her breeches, feeling the four hidden blades there, and then the other four hidden in her tunic. She would fight. She would fight until her last breath.

Slowly but with her head held high, Y/N made her way toward the door and braced for the worst—a haggard Westerosi knight in search of gold and glory. A Braavosi bravo who wanted adventure across the Narrow Sea. A Sorrowful Man. A Faceless Man.

She peeked outside the window nearest the door and frowned. The man standing outside looked familiar and the longer she stared at him, the more she realized she knew him. A knight who had stuck to the Mad King’s side every time she had been forced to go to the Red Keep.

A Targaryen loyalist.

Maybe.

Slowly, she opened the door and stared at him. Willem Darry looked haggard—near death. He smelt like it, too.

“I have been searching for you,” he said, voice rough on her ears.

“What do you want, Darry?”

“I know that you have the little dragons.”

“You are mistaken.” Her hand started to inch toward the knife she had at her back. She could kill him. It could be quick and most people would not bat an eye at a bit of spilled blood. She needed to keep the children safe.

“I’m not. Queen Rhaella told me of a missive Elia wrote to her brother before the Sack of King’s Landing.”

Her hand curled around the hilt. “I know of no such letter.”

“I do not care of what you do or do not know. I am here because I need you. They need you.” He turned and called out for something—she did not care to listen. But the gate at the edge of her property opened and she felt her heart clench. Behind him stood little Viserys Targaryen and his sister, Daenerys.

Her grasp loosened. “Oh.”

My lady Y/N, Braavos sounds wondrous. I must admit that learning you have found two more dragons was a welcome surprise. It seems you collect them now. Prince Oberyn has been adamant that I visit the palace of Sunspear but I am afraid I will only embarrass myself further. The Usurper has started having a brood of his own. He grows more complacent by the day. Mayhaps I will be able to come to you someday soon. Your letters have become a most cherished treasure to me—even if my little sister Margaery does try to read them over my shoulder at every opportunity. I wish I could tell her about you, about how brave and beautiful you are. But I have promised Prince Oberyn to keep you a secret. And my secret you shall be.

Ser Willem Darry quickly moved Y/N and the children into his house. It was larger, equipped with better possible hiding places, and seemed to blend into the background of their particular road, hard to pick it out from its neighbors, aside from the red door. Darry made the servants aware that these four new faces were to be obeyed just as he was. He was a bear of a man, but gentle.

Rhaenys and Daenerys were thick as thieves, the older of the two quickly schooling the young girl in all things a good, highborn lady should know, and several more things a lady should not. More often than not, Y/N would find them practicing with bits of sharpened wood, stabbing the air with clumsy grips which Willem tried to rectify to the girls’ delights. Viserys had caught them once or twice and had snapped the bits of wood in two and dragged Daenerys away by the end of her silver braid until Y/N stepped in and made him practice his calligraphy until the sun set as punishment for making the girls cry. He was a terrible child, always holding his nose too high in the air and telling Aegon and Jon that he was king because his mother had crowned him at Dragonstone before she died.

“She only did that because she thought Aegon was dead or would be soon,” Rhaenys said, fire in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be king anyway!” Aegon would always shout from the next room over.

It was best to keep them separated.

My Prince- I am tired. And I must apologize for the tone of this letter. But Ser Willem is not long for this world, his stomach grows more troublesome for him by the day, and Viserys has been burning letters he will snatch from my hands, not allowing me to know their contents. Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon are still flourishing in Braavos, however. They have asked that I send you this small wooden snake—and you know I am unable to tell them no when they ask so sweetly. Rhaenys has insisted that she read the books you have sent to her brothers and little Daenerys. I had to keep Viserys from stealing the book from her hands more than once. He is a terrible young man. If Aegon were not so attached to him, I might not be so protective of him. But I would not do anything which would bring a frown to Aegon’s face. He has also taken to dyeing his hair blue, to better blend with the Braavosi crowd, letting any passersby think he is just a Tyroshi boy. He is so smart, my prince. He and Rhaenys—and Jon, too, when he is not sulking—are growing to be true heirs to their throne. I hope you will be able to see them soon, just as I hope to meet your daughters and Ellaria. Lord Willas has told me that you are quite the doting father. I miss you.

Aegon and Jon grew stronger and more adventurous with each passing moon while Viserys did try to seem like his nephews’ company and would tell them stories of court life in Westeros, of how Rhaegar was a valiant knight, and how King Aerys was loved by the people.

Y/N had been quick to tell them the truth as she tucked them into bed each night but that did not stop the boys from wanting the older boy’s attention when Ser Willem was deemed ‘un-fun’ when he tired so quickly.

That sentiment quickly soured in their little mouths when Y/N had to explain that Willem had joined their mothers in the Seven Heavens and would not be…around anymore.

“Just say it, he’s dead,” Viserys commanded with an upturned lip.

“You might be crass, Viserys, but that does not mean I need be, too.”

“Why not? Your pathetic little kingdom would not stand under the might of the Seven Kingdoms. That is why you’ve run-”

“Will you braid my hair?” Daenerys’ soft voice cut the tension and Y/N happily turned to look at the youngest dragon.

“Of course, Dany. Go grab your brush.”

“I have a ribbon you can use,” Rhaenys said with a small smile. She reached out a hand toward the younger girl who happily took it.

As Daenerys scurried away, Viserys shot Y/N another glare before marching off. Jon had been watching the entire exchange with his usual pout and Aegon was looking between Y/N and the door where Viserys had disappeared as he fiddled with the pommel of his practice sword.

“I do not understand his dislike of you,” Aegon said.

“He doesn’t like that he is second best,” Jon said. “Or third.”

Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Have you two finished your Valyrian lines?”

Aegon and Jon looked at each other and then darted from the room without a look back, as Y/N knew they would. Daenerys came back in with a smile, her brush, and the bit of ribbon Rhaenys had leant her in her hands. Y/N sat behind Daenerys and carefully brushed her hair. Daenerys seemed to preen under the touch, much like Rhaenys did when she was her age, happy to feel friendly fingers taking care with her hair. She plaited it and tied it off with the purple ribbon, knowing it would probably be a mess by the time dinner was served.

“You will not leave us. Not like Ser Willem, right?” The little princess asked as she turned to look up at her.

Y/N pressed a smile to her face and bit back the words she felt bubbling at the back of her throat. How could she tell a heartbroken little girl that she could not decide when she left this world? She traced a finger down Daenerys’ cheek before gently cupping her chin in her hand. “I promise I will be at your side for as long as I am able, princess.”

Daenerys paused, violet eyes searching her face for answers before nodding. “What are we having for supper?”

My Prince- Thank you for the wonderful gifts for Rhaenys’ ten-and-four nameday. I cannot believe she is almost a woman grown. I cannot believe it has been so long since I have seen you, so long since my flight from Dragonstone. How fares little Dorea? Has she recovered from her sickness? And what of Sarella? Is she still masquerading in the Citadel? She truly is your daughter. Please give Ellaria my love and I will give Aegon, Jon, and Rhaenys yours.

It had been quite a few years since she had heard Rhaenys wake herself up in a fit. Y/N quietly padded over to her room and let herself in, seeing the princess sit in a mess of blankets, a hand on her chest, obviously trying to slow her racing heart. Y/N stepped inside as Rhaenys spotted her sat on the edge of the bed and smiled as Rhaenys quickly swirled around on the blankets to place her head on Y/N’s lap. Her fingers reached up and tangled with her necklace, thumb brushing against the sun pendant as she had done hundreds of times before.

“What troubles you, sunshine? Let me help you.” She curled her hands over Rhaenys’ shoulders and side, cradling her just a bit—like she did when she was a small child. “The nightmares have come back.” She did not look up at her, only keeping her focus on the metal sun.

“Tell me what you see.”

Rhaenys sighed. “You’ll think me foolish.”

“Never.”

“There are ice dragons—bigger than castles, bigger than mountains. They come from the cold and have riders made of snow on their backs and swords made of ice, too.” She shivered and her hand dropped from Y/N’s necklace and she curled further into Y/N’s grasp. “The dead walk with them.”

“The dead?” Y/N asked, her face scrunching in confusion.

“They follow them, mindlessly. Like they have no control.”

Y/N pulled Rhaenys a little closer, feeling something cold trace its finger down her spine. “You’ve been dreaming of the cold since you were a child.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before finally looking up at her. “I don’t think they’re dreams.”

And that gave Y/N pause. She had read about Daenys the Dreamer who saved her family from the Doom. She had read how the priests and priestesses of the Mother Rhoyne were gifted with visions of things not yet come to pass. “You have been seeing this since you were a babe, sunshine. Tell me. Tell me what you think it is.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’ve read the book of legends Uncle Oberyn has sent. Of the Rhoynar, of my mother’s people. It said that some were gifted with something called the Sight. The ability to see things as they happen from across the world, or things not yet come to pass.”

“Like the Dragon Dreams of the Valyrians.”

Rhaenys nodded and finally dropped her hold on the necklace.

“And you think that this cold, these beings, are coming?”

“I know it sounds like nonsense-”

“Almost every country in this world has legends of a night which lasted generations, of cold which reached across the seas. And history repeats itself, my sunshine. It is possible that you have always had the Sight. Do not discount yourself.”

Rhaenys looked up at her, dark eyes shining in the moonlight. “Then I am seeing what is to come?”

Y/N pulled her a little closer. “It is possible. But magic has been gone from the world a long time.”

“But if the cold can come again, magic can as well.”

Y/N nodded. “And I shall be here with you if it does.”

“My father,” Rhaenys grumbled the title, “was fond of prophecy, was he not? The Targaryens always said ‘the Dragon has three heads’ or something like that.”

“Why can there not be four?” She sighed. “Or five. Would not more be better? Surely there is still strength in numbers. And we shall need all the strength we can muster.”

Rhaenys opened her mouth to say something when the door burst open. On instinct, Y/N grabbed the knife she’d hidden in her sleeve and hurled it at the intruder. It missed Jon’s head by pure luck. He only glanced at the blade once before turning back to them. “Something’s happened.”

Y/N stood from the bed with Rhaenys at her side and they ran through the manse, following Jon’s steps but their haste did not change the outcome. Viserys and Daenerys were gone.

Lady Y/N- Thank you for the information you have discovered about from the Iron Bank. It is most welcome and has helped us continue to truly know how poorly and precariously the Usurper is sitting on his stolen throne. If you discover anything else, I would be grateful. Please give the young ones my love. -Prince Doran, Lord of Sunspear

“Again,” Y/N said, standing on the edge of the stone platform.

Aegon and Jon both groaned but Rhaenys held up her sword, ready for the next drill to be called out.

They had been training since the sun came up. While the breeze off the water kept them cool, sweat still poured down their necks to wet their tunics. It was a familiar sight—Y/N could remember her own time in Skilliga’s training rooms when she was younger than them.

It felt like ages ago.

She called out the next set of drills and watched as they worked through the steps, each with a bit of room for improvement, but not entirely terrible. As they worked through another set, and then another, Y/N reached for her own wooden sword and leapt up onto the platform as they caught their breath. Perhaps it was time for only one more exercise.

“If you each manage to land a blow, we can call it for the day, hm? I’ll even have honeywine brought in.”

The siblings looked at each other, a silent conversation, before they all turned like a three-headed beast and raised their swords and charged.

When it was all finished—Y/N had only two more sore spots on her arms but she still had honeywine and let them drink the entire bottle themselves. They had earned it. The manse grew quiet after their small celebration and Y/N sat in her room and listened to the sea beat against the city’s walls as she ran a cool, damp cloth across her face, trying to wash the day’s dirt and sweat away. It was strange, to know that she did not need to make sure that the three did not require a story to help them sleep. They hadn’t in several years. But she still found herself wanting to rise from her cushioned seat to check on them as the air grew still and soft.

A knock at her opened door had her turning and Rhaenys was walking into her room with her lips pulled tight. “Dany is alive.”

“How do you know this?” Y/N asked, rising from her seat. For almost a year, she had heard nothing of the two lost dragons. She knew someone had seen them, she had always known when someone was keeping a secret. But they never told. Again and again, she had thought she would learn of their deaths from a sneering nobleman or one of her missives from Westeros. But she had heard nothing.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve dreamt it.”

My Y/N, Thank you for the lace and silk. You are a generous soul; I had been searching for the right materials for my Obella’s nameday dress and your package arrived the next day. Oberyn speaks of you often, of little Aegon and Rhaenys, and Jon too. I hope to meet you soon, to finally know your face as I know your name. To know you.

It was two years later that she finally heard of where the two silver-headed dragons had gone.

The Dothraki Sea.

“Why would they go there?” Rhaenys asked with a frown.

“Viserys probably hatched some plan. Brokered a deal he did not fully understand with a man smarter than him.”

“A horse is smarter than him,” Aegon muttered. Rhaenys slapped his arm but Jon roared with laughter.

“Well, we must go to them. To Daenerys, at least,” Rhaenys said as she stood from her seat.

And that was how Y/N found herself selling most of their earthly possessions and setting out away from Braavos with an honest guide whom she trusted and paid well. (Balerion hated the wheelhouse but preferred it to being sat on Rhaenys’ lap on her horse. He curled himself around the petrified dragon egg and mostly slept through the day.)

From Braavos to Norvos and then down the banks of the Noyne to where it met the Rhoyne, the days trickled by.

For only a few hours, she let the three bask in the beauty of the ruins of Ny Sar—of the city Nymeria, their famed ancestor, had once called home—before they continued on. They could not afford to linger.

But she grew more and more fatigued with each passing day.

“What ails you?” Rhaenys asked as they stopped for the night.

“I never sleep well this far from the sea, sunshine.” She pressed a smile to her face and tugged at the silver lock of hair at Rhaenys’ nape. “I will rest when we find Daenerys and I can hear the waves crash against the shore again.”

But she asked again a few nights later as they settled again to make their small camp, quiet and hidden. They were too far south for the Pirates of Dagger Lake and too far north for the Volantene galleys to spot them, but it was still best to be cautious. Even in Skilliga, Y/N knew of the dangers of the Sorrows. And Y/N gave her answer. “We are too close to the Sorrows for me to sleep soundly, sunshine.”

They both settled on the high hill at the edge of the grasslands where it met the sparse forest, and watched the cursed fog slowly roll over the unseen waters she could only barely hear. It was strangely quiet here, in this desolate part of the world.

“This is where the Rhoynar made their last stand—before Nymeria and her ten thousand ships set sail and landed in Dorne.”

“Yes. Centuries ago, Chroyane, this was a proud and fertile land. Filled with celebrations and water magic. A place of laughter and prosperity.”

Rhaenys sighed as she looked out at the curling grey mist and barren trees. “But not now.”

“Before the Doom, when the Valyrians still ruled Essos, they tried to conquer the Rhoynar. Wars raged and, for a handful of years, the Rhoynar were able to hold the dragons off. But that did not last. In a last attempt to make the dragons rue the day they set their purple eyes on this part of the Rhoyne, Garin the Great called down a curse on the Valyrians after being captured.”

“And the waters rose and the fog rolled in, sweeping them beneath and holding them there beneath the waves for all the ages to come. The fog turned their skin to stone, matching their stone hearts and took their minds, too.” Rhaenys nodded. “I remembered that part. Mother would tell me stories of the Rhoynar when father was too busy wish his prophecies to sing me to sleep.” The young girl at her side heaved a heavy sigh as she watched the mist curl across the water. “This is my mother’s bloodline. Snuffed out by my father’s.”

Y/N huffed and knocked her shoulder against Rhaenys’. “You are not your parents. You are not some bit of rock that maesters scribble about in their chambers. You, my sunshine, are both Martell and Targaryen. You are the Sun and a Dragon. The fact that you are here means that the impossible is possible. You are water magic and fire in skin. You are the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. You are your mother’s daughter—her sunshine, my sunshine.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she nodded and stood, sweeping her hands against her trousers to brush the dead grass from the fabric. Y/N expected her to say that she was retiring again for the night. But Rhaenys always kept Y/N on her toes.

She was suddenly sprinting down the hill toward the water and the cursed fog.

“Rhaenys?! What are you doing?”

Rhaenys would succumb to the curse, to greyscale—what was she doing?! Y/N sprinted down after her, pumping her legs faster and faster to try to catch her—but she was again too late. And she screamed as Aegon darted in after his sister.

But the fog did not engulf Rhaenys’ form. It did not choke the air from her young lungs. Instead, it curled around her ankles like Balerion had done so many times as a kitten. It was welcoming her. Welcoming her home.

For a moment, Y/N could only watch as the unnatural fog almost seemed to sparkle and shine as Rhaenys reached out her hands toward it. She knew Aegon was yelling, saying something to Rhaenys. But she couldn’t hear it. And she doubted Rhaenys could either as the fog closed around the pair.

She could only wait, with a panicked Jon at her side and a strangely calm Balerion in her arms.

“All will be well,” Y/N heard herself saying.

“Are you certain?” Jon asked in return.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

And when the sun rose in the morning, for the first time in hundreds of years, it shone on Chroyane. The fog lifted. She could see the broken yet still beautiful arches and marble columns of towering stone. Grand palaces jutting from the sparkling waters. Overgrown trees, once foreboding and covered in grey moss, had shining green leaves as large as her arm with delicate pink flowers blossoming. And it was beautiful—even with the bodies of the stone men piled, almost neatly, on the banks of the river. Finally at rest.

Y/N turned her head at the sound of splashing and saw one of the famed large turtles the Rhoyne was known for, sliding through the water, content.

In the center of the river, the water slowly moving by, stood Rhaenys and Aegon.

Jon sprinted to his siblings’ side. “What happened? What did you see?”

Rhaenys only smiled.

**

The siblings had insisted that they take a handful of days to explore the newly ‘recovered’ city. And Y/N could not tell them no—both out of familial duty and personal curiosity. While Aegon and Rhaenys traipsed through the ruins as if they had been there thousands of times before, showing Jon everything they could and telling him of the Rhoynish history, Y/N explored on her own.

The ancient scars of the last battle against the Valyrians were still seen, now dulled by the constant presence of the river water but she could see bits of armor beneath ivy and trees, sun-bleached bone where the water was shallow.

But the river was clear and cool and Y/N let it soak her breeches as she jumped from the small skiff she had found so she could look through the ruins of what appeared to be an ornate bathhouse. Mud and damp greenery sloshed underneath her boots as she walked through, trying to envision what this place looked like before the war and curse. But even now, it was beautiful.

Something clanged against her boot and she looked down to see an edge of a sword. Y/N frowned as she pulled the sword from the muck and wiped it clean on her already-disgusting trousers. The pommel had a head of lion and was inlaid with fine rubies and gold. The blade was long—too long to be wielded by one hand as she had trained to do—but it was far too light to be common steel. Y/N held up the blade to let it reflect the sun and saw the swirling patterns as her heart leapt into her throat.

This was Valyrian steel.

She spent the next handful of hours combing through the mounds of debris on the edges of the river, making sure to listen for where her three charges were and to know that they were safe, and collecting any bits of Valyrian steel—armor or weapons—she could find. And if she had to shake a few bones loose from it? That did not matter. This was not supposed to be the resting place of the dragonriders. This was not their land. So, she supposed that the Valyrians’ former belongings were free game.

They would catch a fine price anyway.

Balerion was perched on a moss-covered rock, watching another large turtle and probably mulling over if the creature was friend, foe, or food.

But Rhaenys eventually pulled her brothers from the ruins and said it was time to move on—“we will come back. I’m sure of it.” And no one argued with her on that, or asked how she knew. They all knew to simply trust her.

The wetlands of the Rhoyne gave way to the grass of the Dothraki Sea and their guide promised that he knew the fastest way to Vaes Dothrak, the one true Dothraki settlement where Daenerys had last been seen. And his promises were kept, thankfully. Y/N was sure if anything else had caught her off guard, she would have fallen off her horse and never risen again. She was so far from the sea. She could hear no river or ocean. No water.

The heat was nearly unbearable. She had nearly thrown herself from the saddle when the seventy-sixth bead of sweat trailed its way down her neck to pool in the back of her tunic. But Rhaenys remained ever positive.

“We are nearly there, I can feel it.”

Even when they learned that Daenerys and what was left of her husband’s khalasar had left Vaes Dothrak and started toward Lhazar, she still voiced her positive outlook.

And it paid off. As Y/N knew it would—eventually.

As the sun set on the fourth day after leaving Vaes Dothrak, they spotted the remnants of a khalasar surrounding what looked like a giant funeral pyre as a red comet bled across the dark night sky. Y/N slowed her horse to a stop and dismounted as she squinted toward the group, trying to find Daenerys. The silver hair quickly stood out and she felt her heart lift, unweighted for the first time since they had left the Chroyane. But it suddenly tumbled down to her stomach as she watched Daenerys light the fire and then edged closer to the heat.

“Daenerys? Dany!”

But the girl did not hear her. Did not turn. Did not blink as she stepped into the flames.

Y/N ran toward the fire but was held back by a strange man—Y/N barely registered that he was not Dothraki—who muttered something about not needing more death tonight.

Sudden movement at her side had Y/N turning and she could not stomach the cry that ripped its way from her throat.

“Rhaenys? What are you—Rhaenys!” She screamed and screamed and leapt toward her only to be too late—again—to stop the carnage. That was her curse.

Rhaenys stepped into the funeral pyre, the egg she had treasured for years held out in front of her like an offering.

Aegon and Jon were screaming for her, for Dany, to come out—come out of the flames and we can go home! We can go home!

But the pair of girls did not. They did not emerge from the flames. Around the large funeral pyre, the remnants of the Dothraki khalasar moved to their knees, watching at the fire burned higher and hotter. And all Y/N could do was watch.

She had failed. She had failed and she didn’t know why. Why did the girls walk into the fire, so sure of their fates? Why did they welcome it with open arms? Why? Y/N sank to her knees and wept. She cried for the first time since Arthur had died at her feet, wept even as the heat from the pyre drenched her in sweat. She had failed.

By the time the sun rose and smoke dissipated, she was certain she would be staring at the bodies of her two girls and once again facing immeasurable loss and now having to handle her boys’ own anger and sadness.

But then she felt her heart leap into her throat.

Surrounded by ash and soot, were Daenerys and Rhaenys. Unharmed. Unburnt. Alive.

And four baby dragons.

“Oh.”

The remaining onlookers yelled out something in their language, hands raised toward Rhaenys and Daenerys.

Blood of their blood.

Y/N, Aegon, and Jon stepped over the piles of ash and still burning embers and toward the two women, naked, and covered in soot—but smiling. Y/N pulled off her overtunic and wrapped it around Rhaenys’ shoulders as Aegon draped his cloak around Daenerys.

“I saw you come again.” Daenerys reached out and grasped at Rhaenys’ hands and the young women cried. “I saw you.”

“I saw you, too,” Rhaenys whispered before shaking her hands free of Daenerys’ grip only to wrap her arms around her aunt in a tight embrace. “How could he hurt you so? You did not deserve to be treated like that.”

Y/N watched Daenerys’ brows furrow over Rhaenys’ shoulder. “What did you see?”

But the answer would have to wait as Aegon and Jon, tired of waiting, all but threw themselves at the pair, and berated them for their actions but thanked them both for surviving.

“I don’t know what we would do without you,” Aegon murmured.

Y/N sighed as she watched them, watched the small group cry and laugh and smile. Aegon did not know how true that statement was—and she hoped he would never know what the world would be like without his sister and aunt.

Rhaenys stepped away from her brother from a moment and held out a soot-covered hand toward her, urging her forward. And Y/N quickly took it, not minding the strange heat. The yellow and gold dragon hatchling on Rhaenys’ shoulder chirped as Y/N stepped closer. Its little neck craned as she kissed Rhaenys’ forehead, trying to see what Y/N was doing to their mother.

“Never do that again, my sunshine.”

**

There had been a bit of an argument between Daenerys and her guard—Jorah Mormont, Y/N had learned what his name was—and Rhaenys and her brothers as to where they would go next. They could not stay in the Dothraki Sea. The other khalasars were still a threat.

Jorah suggested Asshai-by-the-shadow.

Their guide suggested traveling back to Norvos—and when that was turned down, he took his payment and left. “You will die out here,” was all he said. Charming.

But Daenerys, watching the red comet still bleed across the crystal-blue sky had a different destination in mind. “What is that way?” She asked, finger pointing toward where the comet was flying.

“Qarth, khaleesi. The Queen of cities.”

Daenerys smiled at the sound of it. “We shall go to Qarth.” She turned and looked at Rhaenys who nodded, both of them unperturbed by the dragons using their limbs like a crib. Aegon and Jon were both looking at the pair of young women with awe and almost-smug knowing on their faces. Like they had predicted this very sight. And mayhaps they did.

Magic had come back into the world. With water and fog and fire and dragons.

It had come back.

**

My dear Willas- I am not sure if Qarth is to my taste. I do not like how these merchants ‘princes’ and warlocks stare at my charges and their dragons. I do not like how they lathe attention and treasures on the children…young adults, I suppose. I know that these people, man, woman, whomever, they only mean to get their hands on the dragons. And Balerion truly poses more of a threat than the dragons do—and the cat is getting old, he is still something to behold, but his paws move slower now. The hatchlings are defenseless little things even if they are starting to learn how to breathe fire. But I suppose the comforts of this famed city are better than the alternative of getting lost in the Red Waste. But still…I could hear the whispers and feel the people of Qarth all around us. Even our host, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, who had been the first to welcome us into the walled city and has given us an entire wing to call home in his immense estate—I cannot trust him. There is a Shadowbinder here who seems to appear at all hours of the night and day, speaking in whispers and vague prophecy. Truthfully, if she spoke plainly I might actually like her. But enough of that! What news do you have from Westeros? The new set of hounds—are they still growing strong?

For now, in this strange city, they were comfortable. She could hear the four laugh and see them smile. Daenerys told them of her time at Viserys’ side, told them of how her brother had told her that Y/N and Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon no longer wanted the pair at their side. She told them of how they had become wards of Illyrio Mopatis who had promised to help them retake the Seven Kingdoms—a familiar promise. He had brokered a deal with Khal Drogo, all but selling Daenerys to the khal in exchange for the large khalasar who was supposed to help Viserys reclaim the Iron Throne. It churned her stomach, it hurt her heart. “You know that you are family,” Y/N had said. “You are always welcome, always loved.” And that gave rise to the question: did any of them actually want the Iron Throne?

And the answer, unsurprisingly, was complicated.

Aegon and Jon wanted to stop running. Daenerys wanted a place to call home, truly. And Rhaenys, her sunshine, revealed her steel core. Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she stood and set her shoulders back. “Westeros will be mine. It will be mine as it should have been my father’s. As it should have belonged to my mother. The usurper and the lions stole it from her and I will wash them from this earth. I want it. The Seven Kingdoms belong to me—and I will have them.”

Y/N nodded. “You will, sunshine. I promise you that. You are the eldest. By Dornish right and custom, it belongs to you.” Y/N reached out and curled her finger around the silver strand at her ear, and she was suddenly so aware that Rhaenys was growing up. She looked so much like Elia. Where had the time gone? Her hand dropped back to her side. “You will be queen.”

“Y/N!”

She turned at sound of her name and saw Rhaenys walking toward her, draped in a silken Qartheen dress, and her little yellow dragon in her arms. She had named her Vēzos—it meant Sun in High Valyrian. She knew what Rhaenys meant when she had named her dragon. Elia was the Sun of Dorne. Rhaenys had been her sunshine. And now Rhaenys had a sun of her own. Beautiful and terrible and all hers. Y/N could not be more proud. “You are up early, my sunshine. Your brothers and aunt are still resting like the dead.” Last night a grand reception had been held by their host, filling his gardens with all the elite of the city. The Pureborn, the Thirteen, Warlocks—all of them, had descended on the lush grounds and had their fill of fine wood and drink while whispering about the ‘uncivilized’ Dothraki and stealing glances at the dragons while trying to make conversation with the four guests of honor.

It had been exhausting. Most of the party had been spent with Ser Jorah, trying to keep the Dothraki from pilfering anything worth value or Balerion from destorying the guests' fine dresses. Truthfully, Y/N wouldn’t’ve cared but Daenerys said it would not be kind to their host. Oh well.

“They drank much more than me,” Rhaenys said with a smile. Y/N patted the cushioned seat next to her but Rhaenys shook her head. “I have something to show you.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow but stood and followed Rhaenys out of Xaro’s manse, grabbing one of her swords on the way out and sliding it into the belt at her waist. The city was still sleeping and strangely quiet—quiet enough that Y/N could hear the ocean. The port of Qarth was one of the great ports of the known world and Y/N had grown up hearing of the treasure her parents had once plundered from the Jade Gates—it had been the trip they had taken just after they were married. Strangely romantic. The port was a little busier than the quiet of the city and Y/N stepped closer to Rhaenys as they neared the unfamiliar crowd. But, Rhaenys paid no one any mind until she spotted a man with a plumed hat who bowed when she stepped toward him.

“Right on time, Princess! Are you ready?”

Y/N had barely any time to ask what was going on before Rhaenys took her by the hand and ushered her onto the Swan Ship and it pulled away from the port. “Are you kidnapping me, sunshine?” She asked with a laugh.

“Only for a few hours.”

The ship made quick work of sailing through the Jade Gates and toward the East of Essos. And while the sun grew higher in the sky, Rhaenys steadfastly evaded any questions Y/N posed about their destination and she only grew more confused when the ship slowly stopped, rocking in time with the quiet waves—no land in sight.

And Rhaenys’ smile only widened. “Welcome to the Jade Sea.”

Y/N had to laugh and little Vēzos chirped at the noise. “Oh, sunshine. You never fail to surprise me.”

“My ladies!” The captain called out from behind the helm. “We only have a few moments before the Qartheen galleys stop us for taxes—I recommend you make the most of it.”

And that was how Y/N found herself diving off the side of the ship into the cool waters, uncaring that she had left her only weapon on the deck of the boat. Rhaenys was next to her, the folds of her dress floating around her like a sparkling sea creature. And little Vēzos, still unable to fly just yet, had taken to the water too, strangely enough. She flitted around the pair, yellow wings keeping her afloat.

This was paradise.

**

Oberyn- I cannot believe little Dorea has celebrated another nameday. It feels like yesterday you have told me of her coming into this world. Did she like the little jade sun we sent? Aegon had it commissioned at the market here in Qarth. The deal between the Pureborn and our little band of Dothraki and displaced regents is nearly solidified. We will have nearly twenty galleys with the small mountain of Valyrian steel we had reclaimed from the Rhoyne. (I, of course, have hidden several bits of armor and the lion-headed sword, and a few other weapons I had found, outside the city. Just in case. I am saving a spearhead I have found for you. I do hope you like it.) But it does seem like the deal is taking longer than I had ever anticipated. Or perhaps I should have anticipated it—the Pureborn, the warlocks, no one wants Valyrian steel. Not when dragons have come again. For now, everyone is safe. Thriving. I know you weren’t particularly keen on any of the names chosen for the hatchlings but I am still mostly unable to tell them no when they ask so sweetly. Drogon does seem to be the largest still, followed by Vēzos, then Aegon’s Viserion, and Jon’s little Rhaegal is still…little. Mayhaps that is a cosmic joke. But you should see them when they are all together. There is something magical there, powerful. The sun shines brightly on all of them. I am so proud. Please give Ellaria my love.

On the end of the fourth moon of their time in the city, the woman in the lacquered mask, the Shadowbinder Quaithe who still did not speak plainly no matter how much they insisted, appeared again in their rooms.

“You have not left the city, dragonriders.”

Y/N drew her sword but the masked woman did not flinch.

“What do you want?” Aegon asked.

“I have told you. You did not listen. Soon, you will not be permitted to leave the city. You all must learn the truth. And you must-”

“Pass beneath the Shadow,” Jon finished, obviously having heard the request before. “There is nothing for us in Asshai. Truth or otherwise.”

“You will learn.” The woman paused. “Do not trust the whisper.” And then she vanished, as if conjured by shadows herself and the door to their chambers burst open and the small khalasar filled in, shouting something in their language Y/N was still learning—but she caught “dragons” and “gone.” And that was all she needed. And her four charges all let out screams of anguish, as if they had lost limbs with the news. Perhaps that is what it felt like.

They all poured out of their temporary home and into the garden, past the dead bodies of a handful of Daenerys’ handmaidens, to see Pyat Pree and Xaro waiting for them. Y/N would not be able to recall anything they said, only the gist.

The other warlocks had stolen the dragons, seeking power. Xaro and Pyat Pree would lead the four (Aegon, Jon, Rhaenys, and Daenerys) to the House of the Undying, the warlocks’ seat of power in Qarth, where they were holding the hatchlings. In exchange, the two wanted Daenerys and her khalasar to help them establish a ‘new order’ in Qarth. They wanted to be kings.

In short, Daenerys agreed. She wanted nothing more than the hatchlings back and her niece and nephews happy again. But there were, of course, conditions. Only the four could go.

“This is ridiculous,” Y/N muttered.

But the four wanted to go, feeling the need—no matter how unsafe—to be near the hatchling that had chosen them.

“At least take a knife,” she said, pressing one of the (many) daggers she had into each of their hands when Xaro and Pyat had turned their backs. And that was all she could do. They would not be argued with. Y/N could only wish that she had been left in better company than Ser Jorah Mormont who seemed to be already in love with Daenerys. She did not like it. But she knew she could not always fight every battle for them, even if she wished she could, even if she wished she could shoulder the burden she knew they felt on their too-young shoulders. Their heartbreak, their anger, it was hers, too. And she would do anything she could to help make them smile again. And now? It seemed that meant waiting.

As the sun rose in the sky and then set and the moon soon followed, Y/N had not moved from the seat she had taken on the steps leading inside. Jorah had spoken to her, about his life in Westeros but she did not particularly care. He seemed to have received a lenient sentence for his crimes. But he had been proven loyal to Daenerys while Viserys had traded her to Drogo. An ally was an ally. Sending him away when they had so few this side of the Narrow Sea would be unwise.

Smoke rising on the horizon made her finally move from her seat.

But then the gate opened again and Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys came rushing back, each with their hatchling carefully held in their grasps.

“We must go! Now!” Daenerys said—she quickly said it again in Dothraki and the assembled khalasar splintered, quickly picking up anything worth value as they moved.

“Khaleesi? What happened?”

Daenerys did not answer—but Jon did. “It was a trap. We’ve killed them. We must leave.”

“Where are we going?” Y/N had to ask, following them back inside to gather her things and to help pilfer.

“We will figure it out later! We must go!”

With a sword in one hand and a golden candelabra in the other, Y/N felt a chill slide down her spine and she turned to see Quaithe again. The woman simply stared at her, unmoving for a heartbeat or two, and then she slithered from the shadows. “You are their shadow, my lady. The sharp shadow. A shark with dark teeth.”

“That is not helpful!” Y/N hissed in return.

“You will learn. Just as they have—they listened. They did not trust the whisper they heard.”

“Y/N! We must go!”

She turned at the sound of the outburst to see Aegon, arms full of sacks filled with thieved treasures and Viserion on his shoulder. When she turned back to Quaithe, she was gone. Again. Y/N pushed out a sigh and turned, dashing out of the manse and not looking back. They only stopped for a moment for Y/N to dig up her buried treasure.

“You could not help yourself, could you?”

“Now is not the time, Jon.”

When they reached the port, she could already hear the screams coming from the city. Whatever had transpired at the House of the Undying was clearly more than anyone could have anticipated. Some of the Valyrian steel they had meant to sell to the Pureborn was handed over to a captain of a large ship—large enough for them and the small khalasar—and fast enough, too. Quickly, she bought a bit of ink and parchment from a vendor who seemed nonplussed at all the commotion.

She needed help.

She needed Oberyn. She needed Willas.

I do not know where we are going after Qarth, I only know that both Rhaenys and Daenerys seem to be answering a call I cannot hear. Aegon and Jon follow where they lead. Toward destiny or ruin or both, I do not know. But I do know that I cannot do this without you. I cannot guide them without you. I need you. Please.

She wrote a few lines more on each of them, asking them to bring who they wanted, pleading with Oberyn to bring Ellaria, asking Willas to continue to write to her if he could not or would not come. All of it. For the first time in over a decade, she prayed to any of the deities she could remember as she signed her name. She shoved the pair of missives into a familiar captain’s hands along with a small sack of gold and told him where to have them sent as their small group boarded the boat. All she could do was hope.

**

Astapor would not have been her first choice.

It would not have been her fifteenth choice. But Jorah had convinced Daenerys that they needed an army, a true army, not the small khalasar that they currently had. The famed Unsullied of Astapor could provide that…supposedly.

But there was a certain set to her jaw, and an unspoken look between Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon that had Y/N thinking they all had ulterior motives. She had seen that same look between Ellia and Oberyn years ago, a silent conversation only they would understand. While it made her sad, it also made her hopeful. Hopeful for a future where they could all love and care for each other without fear.

Fear. A terrible thing.

Another reason why Astapor would have been avoided if she had been asked. But Ser Jorah had Daenerys’ ear and had filled her mind of thoughts of Unsullied. An army made entirely of men who would follow orders without question, who were thought to not feel pain or fear.

But, Y/N found that his words had soured the more he spoke of their ‘training’ and they stepped into the red-bricked city. Daenerys grew furious when they were given a ‘taste’ of the Unsullied and the good master, a terribly mustachioed man named Kraznys, had bragged about how they did not feed them or give them water for a day and a night and they would stand guard until they dropped. ‘Such is their obedience,’ his translator, a delicately beautiful young woman from Naath named Missandei said. All of it made Y/N’s skin crawl.

“Khaleesi. The Unsullied are chosen as boys and trained-”

“I have heard and seen all I care for about their training!” Daenerys hissed before she cracked a slap across Jorah’s cheek, tears glistening in her eyes as they retired back to the manse they had ‘graciously’ been given for the night.

Y/N glanced back at Aegon and Jon who suddenly found the manse’s ceiling very interesting but Rhaenys kept her eyes firmly trained on her aunt.

Jorah clutched at his reddened cheek. “If I have displeased my queen-”

“You have displeased me greatly, Ser. If you were my true knight, you would never have brought me to this vile sty.” Daenerys’ bottom lip trembled as if she wanted to say more but she kept quiet and turned to Y/N. “We should not have come here; I am so sorry.”

Y/N shook her head and drew Daenerys into her hold. She did not have words to soothe her. What could she say? But she watched Jorah slink from the room and kissed Daenerys’ forehead as she had done hundreds of times in Braavos. Before all of this. Before dragons.

“I want to help them,” Daenerys murmured as she pulled back from Y/N’s arms. “They are people in need of help. They do not… they do not deserve this. If we are in a position of power, should we not help them?”

“Our position of power is fragile and small,” she stressed the word. “We must be smart. There are thousands of them and only a few dozen of us.”

“That has never stopped you,” Rhaenys said with a smirk that had Y/N sighing. “And there might be thousands of them but we have dragons.”

“Baby dragons,” Y/N murmured.

“But dragons all the same,” Daenerys said, reaching out to Rhaenys who quickly took her hand.

“We have been running all our lives, unsafe for who we are. Unsafe because of something we did not chose. If… if I am to be queen, I do not want to know that there are people in this world in shackles when I had the power to help them.”

Aegon and Jon stepped up, hands on their swords. “We will help you.”

Y/N nodded. “In Skilliga, all people are free—we were looked down upon because of that by the supposed Free Cities and the Valyrian Empire before the Doom. I will fight this battle beside you. As always.”

And that is how they found themselves back in the revolting company of the good master. At first, they offered the small mountain of Valyrian steel. But, just as in Qarth, the ‘good masters’ of Astapor did not want Valyrian steel. They wanted dragons. And Kraznys always posed his questions to Aegon and Jon—as if Daenerys and Rhaenys were not there at all. Missandei, however, seemed to understand immediately that it was the women who were truly steering this possible transaction.

Y/N liked Missandei.

“We will need time to think of your offer,” Aegon said as he stood from his seat. The rest of them followed suit. There was no way any of the dragons were going to be forfeited for an army, but Kraznys did not need to know that just yet.

Kraznys sneered as he looked at them and Y/N did not need Missandei to translate his next insult. And she really didn’t think ‘stupid sunset girls’ really applied to all of them. At all. But that did not matter. When they arrived at the manse and one of Daenerys’s handmaidens, a petite woman named Irri, greeted them at the door, she was speaking rapidly, and pointing toward the manse’s solar.

For a moment, Y/N had the horrible thought that the hatchlings had been stolen again but then she caught the words “sun” and “prince.” And then she and Daenerys were darting away from the group and running toward where Irri had pointed.

She could hear them before she saw them.

But she turned a corner and saw a head full of brown curls and a familiar, shining black cane and her heart leapt into her throat as he turned to face her.

“My lady-”

She threw her arms around him in a hug and held him tight. “Oh, Willas. Oh my dear, sweet Willas. You’ve come.” And she nearly wept when she felt his arms wrap around her back and squeeze, she didn’t even care that the handle of his cane was digging into her spine. She didn’t care. He was here and in her arms.

“You have not changed at all, my lady,” he murmured as he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “Your latest letter was a…most welcome surprise.”

His warm hand gently cradled her cheek and she felt tears stinging at her eyes at the soft touch. It had been far too long since someone had touched her…at all. Especially with such care.

“I’ve missed you,” Willas whispered.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, to tell him that she had missed him more than she could have ever put into words and so she did not try, but then the rest of her brood were rushing by her and into the solar.

“Uncle Oberyn!” Rhaenys nearly wailed.

Y/N pulled back to see Rhaenys fling herself at Oberyn who was crying into her two-toned hair with a broad smile on his face. He was older now, true. But still as handsome.

Willas’s hand gently grasped hers and led her a little further into the room. “Let me introduce you to my fair traveling companions.” He smiled at her, as if feeling her sudden nerves through her hand as it clutched his. “They were kind enough to let me stowaway on their ship after we received your letters.” He laughed but then waved a hand at the woman nearest to him. She was tall with thick, wavy black hair, dotted with golden jewelry and soft yellow samite wrapped around her in a beautiful dress with a copper belt around her waist. “This is Lady Ellaria Sand.”

Ellaria was even more beautiful than Y/N could have ever imagined. She had a regal beauty and kind eyes. Her hands were soft as she reached for Y/N and she happily let the other woman pull her into her grasp in welcome. “It was kind of you to think of me.”

“I would not have Oberyn part with the love of his life,” Y/N said as she stepped back, still smelling Ellaria’s fine perfume. “It was kind of you to join us across the Narrow Sea. I hope your daughters did not mind the waves.”

Ellaria turned and smiled at the young girls who were already surrounding Aegon and Rhaenys and cooing over the still-growing hatchlings who preened with the attention. “This was their first ship ride of this length. But they are simply happy for a bit of adventure.”

Three more women were sitting with Jon and Daenerys, speaking quietly in the corner. “That is Nymeria, Obara, and Tyene,” Willas informed her in a whisper.

“Sarella is still at the Citadel?” Y/N asked.

Ellaria nodded with a chuckle. “I am sure it was a heavy decision for her. Oberyn has promised to bring her back all the relics our ship can hold.”

“And I shall deliver on that promise, will I not, my love?” Oberyn said, appearing at Ellaria’s side and kissing her slowly at the corner of her mouth before turning to Y/N. Before she could even try to think of an appropriate greeting, Oberyn reached out and his large hands were grasping at her face and he was kissing her. She was frozen, like a scared little mouse cornered by a viper. But he tasted delicious—like citrus and spice and heat. And as soon as it started, he stepped back. His smile was large, large still as he looked at her confused face. “It is good to see you, Little Shark.”

Willas’ warm hand on her back pulled Y/N back to reality before she glanced at Ellaria who only winked at her. This did nothing to ease her growing confusion but Y/N shuffled the group toward the small hall the manse provided, telling everyone to sit more comfortably instead of standing.

Oberyn told them of how the Usurper was dead and how the Seven Kingdoms had fallen into war. The War of the Five Kings they called it. “Your mother’s family,” Oberyn said as he looked at Jon, “seem to be the largest threat to the Lannisters. They have captured Jamie Lannister.”

Jon seemed pleased with that, in his own quiet way.

“Perhaps an alliance could be made,” Ellaria said. “It would be good to have a Northron ally,” She turned and smiled at Willas, “Aside from our sweet Willas and his band of fair flowers.”

Willas’ cheeks bloomed with color at Ellaria’s words. “My grandmother and I are ready whenever we are needed. Right now, we are letting Margaery play at being queen. She knows it will only be temporary, but she has been…trained by my grandmother in all the ways she knows to sway the opinion of the low and highborn. I am sure by the time we make landfall, they may be waiting for you all with open arms.”

“I do not believe it will be hard to sway them when Cersei Lannister and her little golden children are waging war and starving them,” one of the older Sand Snakes, Obara, muttered. Y/N liked Obara.

“But enough talk of Westeros! Tell us of your lives here in Essos.”

And so they did. They started from the beginning—the four of them told their family of how they jumped from city to city, evading assassins and would-lords in search of gold and glory, all while learning of their family and former homeland across the Narrow Sea. Rhaenys was nearly glowing as she recounted their time along the Rhoyne and everyone at the table seemed entranced, too, promising to see for themselves the land that had once belonged to their ancestors. And all of that led to Astapor and the possible deal with the good master.

“You cannot truly be thinking of giving him a dragon?” Tyene asked.

“I will play his game.” Daenerys slid her hand down Drogon’s neck and the ever-growing hatchling trilled as he looked at his mother, as if agreeing to what she wanted. “He will simply not know that it is my game, my rules.”

The rest of the night was spent filled with terrible Astapori wine and shared food and laughter. Y/N was yawning but smiled when she felt Willas’ fingers trace across the back of her neck as Balerion was curled contentedly on his lap beside her. He seemed to realize what he was doing and his hand snapped back to his side, disturbing the old cat who meowed, displeased, before leaping across the table to settle in Rhaenys’ hold.

“Sorry, my lady.”

But she shook her head, still smiling. “Never apologize.”

They spoke for a little longer before Dorea and Loreza started to fall asleep in their seats and Ellaria excused herself to tuck them into bed, letting Aegon lead the way to one of the guest rooms. The group dispersed, little by little, until it was only Y/N, Willas, and Oberyn left in the hall.

“I must take my leave, my lady,” Willas said with a yawn. “I am sure I will need all my energy for tomorrow.” He looked at her then, and she could not read his face though she tried. But his intentions became clear as his lips touched her cheek before his cane tapped against the floor as he retired for the night.

Y/N nearly leapt out of her skin when Oberyn’s hand enveloped hers when he settled beside her as she watched Willas walk away. But he only chuckled. “Peace, Little Shark, peace. It is just me.”

She huffed out a laugh and let her other hand cover his. “It is good to see you, truly. You and your family…you all seem so happy.”

“We are. My daughters are healthy and happy and Ellaria is the light of my days. And you,” he squeezed her hand, “you, little shark, have raised my sister’s children. You have kept them safe and healthy and happy.” He untangled their hands only to touch the sun pendant around her throat for a moment and a brief, sad smile pulled at his lips before he reached up to grasp her face again, gentle and warm. “You. Do not think to undermine yourself to me. You love them as they love you. You have taken on a responsibility you needn’t call yours—all because you loved my sister.” He kissed her forehead. “You have loved my family.” He kissed her right cheek and Y/N felt her breath stutter in her lungs. “You have helped them bring magic back into this wretched world.” He kissed her left. “And you…you still smile like the girl I knew all those years ago.” And then he kissed her again, brushing his lips against hers with a happy sigh and all Y/N could do was let him guide her, let him rob her lungs of air for the second time that night, let him fulfill a dream she had selfishly kept since her girlhood in Westeros.

But then she remembered Ellaria. Her hand found Oberyn’s chest and she gently pushed.

“What is it?” He asked, voice soft. “If I have overstepped-”

“The mother of your youngest is asleep in the other room, My Prince.”

“And she would take the time to kiss you properly as well. And she will, when or if you give her the opportunity.” His familiar roguish smile made her stomach twist with pleasant butterflies. “My heart may have found its match with my love, Ellaria, but that does not mean yours does not call to mine as well. We were made to delight in all the gods have given us. Ellaria and I often share in our delights. If you, my little shark, are amiable, I would like to keep kissing you. I would like for Ellaria to have her chance to kiss you, too.” And when she went to bed that night, slipping under her blankets, her mind hazed with thoughts of soft lips and kind words and the scent of roses she could not place.

The next day, they solidified the deal with Kraznys. He had tried to say he would only give them all of the Unsullied for all four dragons, but Daenerys stood firm and only agreed to one. The biggest. Drogon.

“And I shall take you as well,” Daenerys said as she turned to Missandei. “As a mark of a deal well struck.”

Missandei quickly translated to Kraznys who then waved a dismissive hand, allowing it. As if Missandei were not a person. It turned her stomach.

As soon as they were back at their manse, Rhaenys took the thick collar from around Missandei’s neck and threw it into the hearth, letting the leather smoke and burn.

“Is there a family on Naath we might reunite you with? A father, a mother?”

Missandei shook her head. “There is no one left of my family on Naath, your grace. This one is…alone.”

Daenerys reached out and gently took Missandei’s hands in her own. “You are no longer alone. You are with us. You are a free person—if you ever tire of our company, simply say so and we shall let you go wherever you wish. We will give you gold, a ship—anything you may need. I swear it.”

Missandei’s dark gold eyes searched Daenerys’ face before looking to Rhaenys and doing the same. “I will be able to leave?”

Rhaenys nodded. “Now, tomorrow, ten years from now. If you want to leave, we will make sure you are given all you require to make a comfortable life for yourself.”

“And what of the Unsullied who become yours tomorrow?”

Daenerys and Rhaenys wore matching, Cheshire smiles. “We have plans for them.”

**

“Are you certain of this plan?” Willas whispered as he watched Y/N place one of her (many) swords into its scabbard around her waist. They had been speaking all morning, of his time at Highgarden, of him traveling to Sunspear under the pretense of meeting with Princess Arianne, all of it. And she found herself realizing how easy it was to speak to him—how easy it had always been. But then the topic suddenly changed as he ask of the plan Daenerys and Rhaenys had hatched.

“I am,” she said.

“They are all destined to rule, in one way or another. They are queens; I am only an advisor. I must trust in their judgement.”

“And if it fails?”

“It won’t.” She slid another blade up her sleeve. “But I am never unprepared.” Y/N turned to Willas and smiled as she reached out to press a hand to his cheek. The mustache he had grown since she had last seen him suited him. He was always so handsome. “It is good to have you here. I shudder to think of the state of my nerves if you had refused my call.”

Willas smiled and reached up to cover her hand with his. “You know I could never refuse you, my lady.”

Y/N wanted to say more—wanted to say something, anything—but Aegon appeared in the doorway of her chambers before she could. Her hand snapped back down to her side. “It is time to go, Y/N.” His dark purple eyes shifted to Willas, “and you as well, my lord.”

Y/N nodded and stepped away from Willas with a strange, shaking smile.

In a strange procession, their group, growing by the day, arrived back at the Plaza of Pride (a stupid name). Drogon had been wrestled into a small cart that morning, his little belly filled with fine steak and Daenerys had peppered kisses along his scaled head before she had sealed him away. The battalions of Unsullied were all standing at rest, spears and shields held in front of them. Slowly, Daenerys walked to the small cart and undid its strappings, pulling Drogon from his makeshift cage with the chain on his foot. He pulled against his bonds as he neared the master. He knew.

“Is it done then? They belong to us?”

The master answered and Missandei translated. “It is done. You hold the whip.”

But the master continued talking, once again calling them all a bunch of bitches and mongrels but Daenerys did not flinch. She merely turned toward the army she now commanded and held up the whip.

“Unsullied!” Daenerys called out in her perfect High Valyrian. Y/N watched Missandei’s head snap around to look at the petite woman.

They instantly moved to attention.

“March forward!” They did. “Halt!” They did.

Y/N looked to Daenerys and then to the other three, seeing them all strangely calm. They were conquerors. They were blood of Old Valyria. They were Nymeria’s heirs. They were her charges.

“Tell the bitch the beast will not come,” the master said as Drogon continued to pull against his hold.

Daenerys slowly turned to face him, still holding the whip. “A dragon is not a slave.”

“You speak Valyrian?” He asked, aghast. But still not embarrassed.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue.”

Aegon had to hide his smile behind his hand.

But then Daenerys turned back toward the Unsullied, her face set in stone. “Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!”

And they did. In the next breath, the handful of masters walking at the flanks of the Unsullied had spears through their backs.

“I am your master!” The man screamed. “Kill her! Kill them all!”

“Dracarys.”

Y/N watched Drogon open his mouth and scream. Fire consumed the ‘good master’ and he screamed, too. It was a glorious scene. And, all at once, the square devolved into chaos. The assorted masters, who had come to witness the glory of the dragon, were killed where they stood. Jorah drew his sword but Y/N simply crossed her arms and watched everything unfold.

And, it was over within a span of only a few moments. The slavers were burnt and bloody. Dead. As they should be. But they were not finished.

Daenerys and her niece and nephews mounted their horses and rode through the Unsullied ranks. “Unsullied!” Daenerys called out. “You have been slaves all your life. Today, we give you freedom.”

“Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. We give you our word,” Aegon said next. Y/N looked out to see a few of the helmeted men covertly glance up at him.

“Will you fight for us? As free men?” Daenerys’ voice rang out and was met with silence. For a moment. And then a single spear was smacked against the sand. Another joined. And then another. And another until the plaza was filled with the sound of the strange sound of the spears in sand.

They had their army. The city was theirs.

**

They did not leave Astapor immediately. They could not leave the city unguarded or without a stable ruling body. And a way to stabilize the economy.

The city needed to rebuilt from the destruction and just…overall. It was not well kept outside the former masters’ manses. Weeks turned to months as they met with the city’s population, trying to establish a ruling council of men and women who knew the city best and wanted to see it thrive. The Valyrian steel they still had was traded for brick and mortar, food, and medicines. Weapons. And while the city seemed to be getting its metaphorical feet back under itself again, it did nearly deplete their coffers. The gold from the dead masters was seized and redistributed to the freedmen to make sure they could provide for themselves as they settled into the new normal of the city and started their new lives.

The new Kings and Queens of the city took up residence in one of the manses and Balerion found the large open windows a favorite place to nap when he was not harassing the hatchlings, unafraid of their literal ability to breathe fire.

Rhaenys met with a small council of freedmen who had been in charge of the city’s infrastructure and had devised a plan to irrigate the city and its surrounding lands by diverting the water from Astapor’s river, which had been called Worm since the city’s inception. A terrible name, if Y/N was being honest.

But the irrigation was quickly done with new aqueducts and small orchards for plums and olives and lemons were planted, the small khalasar carrying in the plants from outside the city. A vineyard for persimmons was also widened in the center of the city, as Rhaenys knew that Astapor had the ability to make a fairly expensive and tart wine with the fruit. It made Y/N smile to realize that Rhaenys had a gift for creating (an albeit small) fertile wetland out of patch of a desert landscape.

Schools were fitted into the empty manses and training schools were established. It was slow work, true, but Y/N could not argue with the tired smiles that she saw on her charges faces each night as they gathered for dinner.

Jon and Aegon were fond of training alongside the Unsullied who were also helping other freedmen learn how to handle a sword and shield. The army was a force to be feared, truly. Grey Worm, the man they had elected to speak as their commander, had become another advisor. He spoke only High Valyrian as the rest of the Astapor did, but Missandei had been taking the time to teach who she could the Common Tongue. He was a man of the sword in all ways—but Y/N did see how his eyes softened ever so slightly whenever Missandei was in his presence. Small rebellions from former masters were quickly dealt with. There would be no room for it under their new rule. Oberyn and Willas were firm and fair advisors to the four younger regents. When to dispense bloody justice and when to stay their hand, how to broker trade with foreign kingdoms and settle arguments and disputes between their subjects—they provided guidance that Y/N and Ser Jorah could not. Missandei was a voice of the people and helped them truly know their subjects. She was the strongest of them all, Y/N was sure of it. Ellaria had a strength of her own, endearing herself and the young regents to anyone and anyone she encountered by showering them with gold for their trades and commissioning songs.

And the hatchlings were growing even faster, larger by the day. Y/N often went to market in the mornings to buy goats and cows to feed them when the others were still asleep, trying to keep the dragons from eating someone’s livestock without being compensated for it (again).

Drogon nudged her side as she dragged the fresh meat toward him and she patted his warm snout in greeting. “Good morning to you, too.”

Viserion and Rhaegal were still sleeping, curled around each other over the remnants of a fire that had been burnt last night. But Vēzos was already high in the sky, yellow and orange scales glittering in the early morning glow. But she landed after spotting her breakfast and let out a puff of smoke around Y/N’s face in thanks before she devoured her share.

“Y/N!”

She turned abruptly at the sound of Jon’s voice and frowned when she saw the unhidden panic on his pale features. Rhaegal suddenly rose from the embers of his bed and huffed, sensing his bonded’s dread. “What is it?”

**

Mayhaps Y/N should not have been surprised to see Xaro amongst the ‘envoys’ from the other slaver cities. It was not as if they had left Qarth on the best of terms…or unscathed.

“We will give you all the boats and soldiers you want or will need to retake Westeros, as long as you leave Slaver’s Bay. Immediately. And allow us to rectify the mess you have made of Astapor.”

“Removing shackles is a mess? Freeing men, women, and children is a mess?”

Drogon and Rhaegal both rumbled from behind their parents and the envoys all stumbled back, some tripping over their ornate robes and gilded slippers.

“It is our way of life!” Someone from Yunkai shouted, voice trembling.

“And their lives have value—more than the coin that line your palms.”

“Astapor is prospering,” Oberyn said. “Our coffers are twice as plentiful now with our wines and citrus and olives as they were when they traded in flesh and bone.”

“And your slaves have heard,” Rhaenys said. She looked regal on the throne beside her brothers and aunt. The Astapori gown she had commission from a freedwoman was made of a beautiful soft yellow linen and her hair was braided with a pair of golden bells at the end, a gift from Irri who had said she had earned it by helping take Astapor and the defeat of the Warlocks in Qarth. “They have heard of our people prosper. How they are free.” And that was true, there had been whispers of a start of an uprising in Yunkai and Meereen since they had taken Astapor.

“You are suggesting that we should free our slaves for a chance-”

“You were the ones to demand an audience,” Daenerys said. “And we were gracious enough to grant your request. But now that you are here, we do have a request. Free your slaves, pay them for their labor from the time you have sought to own them, and set aside your whips and chains.”

“We will not!” “Never!” On and on, the envoy refused.

“The Harpy will have her due!”

Aegon moved in front of Rhaenys, not even bothering to put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “The Harpy is a legend. A statue you have all built from the gold you have accumulated through the blood of innocents. We have four very real dragons and an army better trained and better equipped than your pampered slavers. Send your harpies.”

**

Y/N groaned as she saw yet another slash she had not remembered receiving when she was readying for bed that night. She had taken to sparring with Jon and Aegon alongside the Unsullied who were not on guard or patrol duties. It had apparently been far too long since she had dedicated time to training of that caliber—not that any of them could even hope to compare to Grey Worm and his compatriots. For now, the threats from Yunkai, Meereen, and Qarth had been unfulfilled. But they were still on their guard. But she did take a few moments of the day to help Dorea and Loreza and Obella work on their fighting stances. Elia, the eldest of the Sand Snakes born to Ellaria, was already very comfortable with her spear and had been taking to training with the Unsullied. Well, they were very patient with her and very gentle—as gentle as they could be. They were a fearsome bunch.

Y/N pulled the linen chemise over her head and reached for her dressing gown after cleaning the small wound.

“My lady,” a soft spoken handmaiden stuck her head into the chambers. “You have a visitor.”

“Send them in, please. I am just about decent enough for company.”

The handmaiden laughed quietly and nodded as Y/N tied the sash around her waist.

“Willas has been quite beneficial—he seems to have a magic touch when it comes to those persimmon trees. They bloom more every day.”

Y/N smiled as she turned to see Oberyn walking into the room. “Well, I have been told he is quite good with anything green. I would not be surprised if he and Rhaenys managed to raise a forest to rival Qohor from the sand.”

Oberyn chuckled and he held out a hand toward her. “Come, take a walk with me before you rest for the night. The night is cool enough for us to enjoy the moonlight.”

Y/N happily took his offered arm and let him lead her out to the gardens around their manse. And it was true, the air was cool and she could hear the faintest rumblings of the sea alongside the murmurs of the city. The gardens were still blooming with flowers despite the heat and the strange flora was a welcome respite from the red brick and sand of the city. It curved and cornered in a strange maze, leading around small fountains, and statues of legendary creatures, never reaching higher than their waists.

“How are your daughters finding the bay?”

“They find the air much like that of Dorne, so they do not mind the heat. But they do enjoy putting their Valyrian lessons to use and trying to learn all they can from the Unsullied.”

“They are formidable.”

Oberyn chuckled. “I would have them no other way. Dorne may be kinder than the other kingdoms of Westeros, but I would not have them unprepared for the rest of the world.” He squeezed her hand. “Just as you have made sure that the four under your care are prepared as well.”

“I have tried my best, my prince.”

Oberyn pulled them to a stop as they neared a bench and they settled next to each other and watched two of the dragons test their wings above them. “We have entered a new world. Dragons have come again. The Martell bloodline is conquering cities.”

“They want to make it a better world. And I want to see them succeed.”

“I will help them in all of their goals, I swear that to you.”

Y/N smiled, knowing what he said was true. She had never known him to break an oath.

“It seems, little shark, that we are not the only ones who thought of admiring the gardens tonight,” Oberyn whispered. He pointed toward the other side of the maze with a growing smile. Willas was standing at Ellaria’s side, looking as red as could be and trying to hide it behind his hand. Ellaria was smiling at him as if she hadn’t a care in the world—but the glint in her beautiful eyes told Y/N that Ellaria knew exactly the effect she was having on the lord.

“He does not quite know how to hold his wine,” Oberyn said with a smirk. “If given too much, he would accept any challenge.”

“Is that why there is now a golden pearl on his ear, my prince?”

Oberyn only chuckled. “You must admit, he looks quite dashing.”

“Yes, he does. But you know I’ve always been fond of his shy smile.”

“And he has been fond of you.”

Y/N clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Perhaps when I was younger, still a young wife in the making with connections to a royal court or two. It has been ages since I have made him smile like that.”

Now it was Oberyn’s turn to shake his head. “Little Lord Willas, heir to one of the most powerful kingdoms in Westeros, has remained unmarried and unattached since you disappeared from Dragonstone, little shark. And it is not for lack of trying from the many unmarried women who know of his status.”

It would be a lie to say that her heart did not clench when it was said aloud and so bluntly. “It would be foolish to think-”

“Despite his family’s animosity, he and I have…become friends.”

“Friends?” Y/N parroted with an arch of her eyebrow.

Oberyn’s wolfish smile made her stomach flip, as it always did. “You know I treat my friends well.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, biting her lip. “No wonder he has remained unmarried. Who could compete with the Red Viper?”

Oberyn’s warm hand settled over hers and squeezed. “You know I am not opposed to having a married person in my bed. It was not me who kept him from calling someone wife.”

Y/N scoffed. “You cannot be insinuating that I-”

“I’m not insinuating anything, little shark. I am telling you. The man has been in love with you since you first came to Westeros. When he was still a shy young thing and you were the foreign maid who acted as my sister’s shadow.”

“We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. I am now old enough to be considered an old maid-”

“And the heart wants what the heart wants. He has come half way across the world because you asked him to. Now, tell me, why did you ask him?”

“I…” She tried to think of an answer. Because he had helped her flee. Because he was a friend. Because because because. But none of those reasons seemed like the truth. “I do not know.”

**

A small skirmish had broken out on the borders of Astapor. The sellsword company known as the Windblown had allegedly been hired by Yunkai to deal with the ‘dragon kings and queens.’ It, of course, hadn’t worked and they were pushed back the Unsullied.

The fight had only given them all credence to continue to feed the rebellions in the other cities and slowly cut off their supply chains at the mouth of the bay. This morning, Y/N was reviewing the takings from the ships they had seized when she noticed a familiar face was missing.

“Where has Oberyn gone?” Y/N asked as she entered the kitchens, finding Ellaria there, pouring a bit of honey over a bowl of berries.

“He set off in the night, some mission on his mind.”

“You did not go with him?” Y/N asked as she slipped into the seat beside her, plucking a handful of berries from the bowl. “I am surprised he would not have you at his side.”

Ellaria chuckled and shook her head. “He asked, but I did not think our daughters would like to be too far from the excitement of the cities.” She popped a berry between her beautiful lips with a growing smile. “And I did hope we could know each other a little better. Oberyn always speaks of you so fondly. I feel as if we are friends already.”

Y/N felt a wash of warmth as she looked at the other woman and nodded. “I feel that way as well. But I would be honored if I could steal a bit of your time today, if your daughters would not mind.”

Ellaria gave her another dashing smile. “I am sure they will survive a few hours without me.”

And so, Y/N let Ellaria lead her around the city, mostly through the markets that Y/N had not had the chance to truly peruse. And it was true, they had settled into a camaraderie that usually took years to build. Ellaria might have been the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen, but she was also kind and funny and had a sharp wit with a matching, striking smile. Y/N only wished she’d had the fortune of having her as a friend years ago—but Y/N would take what she could get now. And hold to it desperately.

“This?” Y/N held up a pale lilac bit of silk, they had been trying to find the right fabric for a new dress for Y/N—apparently Ellaria found Y/N’s lack of dresses something to be rectified.

Ellaria shook her head and picked up a stretch of red lace, filled with delicate flowers with tiny golden thread woven within. Ellaria draped it over Y/N’s shoulder with a smile. “This suits you. The flowers. Just a touch of gold. It is delicate—like you.”

Y/N chuckled and let her finger slide against the edge of the lace. “I do not think I have ever been called delicate.”

Ellaria’s soft fingers gently grasped Y/N’s chin and there was a steely determination in her gaze as she looked into Y/N’s eyes. “You are delicate, Y/N. Your skin and soul may have been forged in steel, but your heart is delicate. You have a soft, gentle heart. And you are ever the more beautiful for it.” Her hand moved to cradle Y/N’s cheek, surely feeling its warmth. “Do you not see yourself as I do?”

“Apparently not,” Y/N said with a shake of her head, not too rough to have Ellaria’s touch leave.

“You are,” she said and then leaned close enough to just barely brush her lips against hers before she pulled the lace from around Y/N’s shoulders and turned back to the merchant. “We will take all of this. Thank you.”

And then Ellaria was all but hauling her back into the cooled shadows of their manse and out into the gardens again, dropping their lace and silks off into the hands of a smiling handmaiden who giggled as they walked by.

It was just the pair of them in the garden, listening to the trickling of water and the wind as it rustled the rigged leaves and branches of the maze. But all Y/N could feel, see, hear, was Ellaria.

Ellaria and her beautiful lips.

Ellaria’s mouth was soft as it moved against hers. And she sighed so prettily when Y/N tangled her fingers into her thick hair and tugged.

“Oh.”

Y/N pulled away from Ellaria’s beautiful mouth to see Willas standing near one of the fountains, a pink tinge to his cheeks and a white-knuckle grip on his cane.

“Lord Willas,” Ellaria called out, her voice husky, “join us.”

Willas looked away, cheeks still roaring with color, and shook his head. “I am afraid I would only…get in the way.” He cleared his throat and turned. “Please, excuse me.”

Y/N watched him go, mind clearing for a moment, and frowned.

Ellaria dragged her lips against Y/N’s cheek. “He will join us when he’s ready. I promise you that.” She sponged a kiss at the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “But I do not want to be interrupted again. If you are agreeable, I want to see what you have hiding under this hideous tunic.”

And well, Y/N could never tell her no and led her back to her chambers and locked the door.

Ellaria was even softer beneath her fine, silk dress that Y/N slowly pushed down her arms to greedily cup her full breasts in her hands.

“Eager,” Ellaria said with a breathy chuckle.

Y/N could only whine against her mouth as she felt Ellaria’s nimble fingers slide easily beneath the tops of her leather breeches. They were pushed down her legs and her loose tunic was pulled up and over her head before Ellaria all but shoved her back onto the featherbed, watching her bounce with a smile. Y/N didn’t even have thought to be a little shy over her nakedness—she just wanted Ellaria close again. And then Ellaria was crawling up the bed and settling across Y/N’s stomach, warm thighs bracketing her ribs. And there was something nearly magical with knowing she was the cause of the slick spot she could feel growing just above her belly button. She had made Ellaria feel like that.

Y/N’s hands slid up her smooth skin to hold her hips and Ellaria’s hands settled over hers with a widening smile.

“I like seeing you like this,” Ellaria said before leaning down to lick across Y/N’s mouth before kissing her thoroughly, oh so easily stealing the breath from her lungs. Then she moved. Her lips trailed down Y/N’s neck, to her chest, teeth scraping against the curve of her breasts as she slid down Y/N’s body, and dragged her slick lips against Y/N’s skin. Her mind was a warm mess—all there was, was Ellaria and her beautiful mouth. Ellaria and her perfect hands. Ellaria and her wet tongue.

Ellaria slipped between Y/N’s legs and kissed her left hip and then her right before licking a bold stripe against Y/N’s folds, wrenching a broken moan from her lips. “So pretty,” Ellaria cooed. And her grip tightened. Again and again the Dornishwoman’s tongue curled and twisted and Y/N could feel an unfamiliar coil start to tighten in her stomach as her thighs suddenly clamped around Ellaria’s head. The woman only laughed against her core and the vibrations had Y/N moaning, hands reaching down to tangle in Ellaria’s perfect, perfumed hair. Ellaria managed to wriggle her hand between them and curled one finger and then two into the wet heat of Y/N’s core and started to slide them in and out, in and out, wet sounds filling the air alongside Y/N’s growing moans.

It was perfect. She was perfect. And as soon as Ellaria curled her fingers, the coil snapped and Y/N sobbed. Her heart was racing, sweat and dotted her chest and brow but she felt beautiful and her vision cleared and she looked down to see Ellaria pressing her cheek against her hip, drawing shapes against her heated skin with the dull nail of her forefinger.

“You must teach me how to do that. I want to make you feel like this.”

And so…Ellaria did.

**

The next morning, Ellaria was still sleeping peacefully, tangled in Y/N’s silken blankets as she rose with the sun. Y/N gently pressed a kiss to her cheek and slipped away from her comforting warmth to ready for the day and found Daenerys sitting on one of the manse’s balconies, watching the four hatchlings soar above the gardens as the sun grew hotter and higher in the sky. Y/N sat beside her and had a bit of food brought out so they could break their fast together. Daenerys seemed…happy. Truly. Happier than she had been since Y/N had seen her last, as a child. But there was something she was not saying. Y/N knew it.

“Tell me what is on your mind, Dany.” She reached out and gently grasped the young princess’ hand and squeezed three times.

“I do not…” She paused. “I was born on Dragonstone. I am the princess of the rightful ruling family.” She pushed out a long breath. “I will see my niece on the Iron Throne and I know the kingdom will be better for it.”

“But?” Y/N asked, knowing there was something else that needed to be said.

“But I do not know if Westeros is my home. I have no memories of it. Jon and Aegon do not either but they still feel some sort of calling, a need to go back.” The wind blew a bit of her silver hair across her face as she looked out across the bay. “I do not feel that. Viserys sold me for the throne he thought he deserved and I found a small bit of solace in my few friends in my khalasar and then more here with the Unsullied and the freedmen of the bay.”

Y/N watched a few emotions flitter across Daenerys’ face before she turned back to the bay, too. “You have been pushed and pulled to one place or another your entire life, Dany. Finding a place where you feel at home is something to be proud of. Do not let other people’s opinions or aspirations dictate yours. You deserve a home. Peace.”

“And where is your home? Skilliga?”

Y/N shrugged. “Skilliga has housed me and raised me just as much as Westeros and Essos has, I suppose. I know my uncle and cousins are safe and happy there. I know that I will be able to hear and taste the sea from my rooms again if I ever went back.” She sighed. “But I think I have seen too much of the world to be happy on my little island again, for the rest of my life.”

“Mayhaps you can find a home with Lord Willas. I have heard how he calls on you—ever so sweetly.”

Y/N groaned. “Not you as well, Dany!”

The girl only laughed.

Y/N sighed. “Either way, if you want to stay in Essos, you can. What is a few thousand miles to a dragon, hm? Nothing. Your family will never be too far.” She tugged at the end of Daenerys’ braid and listened to the Dothraki bells she had earned ring. “But you mustn’t think of it just yet, Dany. We still have so much more to do.” She pressed a smile to her face. “We have time.”

Daenerys giggled and shook her head. “And we still have so much to do this side of the Narrow Sea.”

**

It had been ages since Y/N had thought of sacking a city. She used to dream of it as a little girl, bringing home riches and other pretty things to fill her rooms and make her parents proud. But perhaps her parents were more bloodthirsty than the rest of Skilliga—and that had been why Uncle Hammond had sent her away to Westeros, to try to quell that need for violence with the niceties of a foreign court and responsibility. But, she had to ask herself as she looked over the maps of the cities and waterways and tunnels, that hadn’t quite worked, had it?

Obara and Nymeria were near-master tacticians, easily finding ways Y/N did not see to surround the city and infiltrate even the thickest of defense walls. But their true expertise, it seemed, in planning diversions.

“I can take a small battalion of freedmen to the west gate and use the two battering rams we have made from the scraps of Valyrian steel.”

“That will give Grey Worm’s host enough of time to march through the South Gate which will be raised by Belwas.”

Dorea was seated on Y/N’s lap, as she often was during war room discussions, moving the pieces across the war map along with her sisters’ plans. Y/N never did mind when she first crawled atop her legs without invitation but had welcomed her every time it happened. She reminded Y/N of the quietly intelligent but playful Rhaenys used to be.

“I like this color,” Dorea said, holding up the Martell orange token embellished with the familiar red dragon of House Targaryen.

“It is pretty, is it not?” Y/N answered. “Can you put that at the West Gate for me?”

The little girl did happily.

“Thank you, Dorea,” She said as she gently swept Dorea’s hair away from her forehead, it had fallen from the intricate braid Ellaria had woven this morning. “We shall make a strategist out of you yet.”

She happily laughed and it drew more smiles from Obara and Nymeria. “I’m hungry.”

“I think the kitchens are just about ready for luncheon, little one. Why don’t you go see?”

Dorea leapt from Y/N’s lap and scurried away with another laugh.

“You are good with her.”

“I have had plenty of practice.”

“When you have your own, I am sure even the nurses will know less than you.”

Y/N huffed at Nymeria’s well-intentioned remark. “I am not sure if I will have any of my own.”

“Why not?” Obara asked, arching one of her dark eyebrows. “It is obvious you crave for some of your own.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond when the door to the war room opened and Tyene ran inside, her pale cheeks were filled with color and her eyes darted to her sisters.

“Someone has breached our walls.”

Y/N was running out of the room before she could hear the rest of what Tyene had said—she sprinted toward the kitchens, where she knew her charges were probably gathering for their next meal.

And she was, unfortunately, correct.

And it seemed the intruder knew their schedule as well.

Two men with golden harpy masks had Daenerys at the end of their swords. Little Dorea was standing behind her, eyes narrowed. The bodies of the kitchen maids were on the floor, crimson puddles staining the marble floors.

Y/N had meant to sneak up on them. Truly. They hadn’t noticed her presence just yet-

But Aegon and Jon burst in through the other door and drew the harpies’ attention. They pivoted and their swords raised. Y/N shoved Aegon out of the way and felt the warm steel sink into her stomach. And then it happened again, the blade finding the bone of her hip as it broke through. Blood bubbled in her mouth with her next breath and she watched, in a haze, as Jon took one of the men’s head from his shoulders.

“Y/N?” Rhaenys’ voice was fading in her ears as she fell to her knees, she barely saw her eldest standing in the kitchen doorway.

There was a scuffle with the other man, but she hardly noticed, feeling her heart beat in time with the warmth coating her hands. It drip drip dripped onto the marble in an uneven staccato.

It took her a moment to realize that both Rhaenys and Daenerys were trying to speak to her, their little hands pressing over her wounds and trying to staunch the bleeding.

“That hurts,” Y/N said, words tumbling from her mouth without thought. Of course it hurt. She had been stabbed.

“I cannot do this without you,” Rhaenys cried.

“You will be just fine, sunshine.”

Daenerys was yelling for the healers as Aegon and Jon held the other Harpy on his knees.

“Don’t speak like that,” she whispered. “I need you.”

Y/N wanted to say something, wanted to say that she knew Rhaenys and her brothers and aunt would be fine—they would shape the world into a better place with Oberyn, Ellaria, and Willas at their side. She knew because she had seen it—that maybe a bit of the old magic had finally stirred in her foreigner blood. But her blood was currently filling her mouth and her world went dark.

**

She remembered very little from her time under the healer’s hands. Pain, the smell of Milk of the Poppy, someone was crying. And then nothing. Nothing.

Nothing until a warm, soft hand gently cradled her cheek. “I will wait,” someone whispered. “I have waited years, I can wait a few moons longer.”

But she woke, fully, as soon as she could and was told that her movements would be stilted and painful for some time.

Willas was at her side when her eyes opened, clear for the first time in weeks even if her brain did still feel fogged with the Milk of the Poppy. “It is good to see your beautiful eyes again, my lady. We have all missed you.” She spotted Balerion at the foot of the featherbed, looking more content to be in her presence than he had ever been before.

Y/N reached out and scratched behind Balerion's ears before she touched Willas' hand and watched his shoulders sag, as if he had been carrying some unseen weight across his back and had finally been relieved of it. “I mean this in the best way, my lord. But you look as if you have not rested in weeks.”

Willas huffed. “I have not. Most of us have not. We have been taking shifts to be at your side. The healers have said it would be best to keep an eye on you. Lady Ellaria just left, she has been the most dutiful to be at your bedside beside Her Grace, Rhaenys. Oberyn has been diligent in making sure your wrappings were changed.” He squeezed at her hand. “Do I truly look so unwell?”

Y/N smiled, feeling her dry lips crack with the motion. “Still handsome. As always, my lord.”

“Please, call me Willas.”

“We are alone, I suppose it could be appropriate-”

“Always, please, simply call me Willas. We have known each other long enough. Willas. I am Willas just as you are my Y/N.”

“My Willas.” She liked the sound of it. She liked it even more when his cheeks once again bloomed a pretty pink. “Tell me, my Willas, what have I missed since I have come to this bed?”

Apparently she had missed quite a bit.

Yunkai and Meereen had both fallen under the weight of the combined armies of the Unsullied, trained Freedmen, and the Second Sons—and bolstered by the revolts Aegon and Grey Worm had started by slipping into the cities under the cover of darkness to speak to anyone who would listen. Daenerys had united almost all of the Dothraki under a single khalasar and had been named the Great Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, commanding a group of Dothraki the world had never seen. Ser Jorah had been sent away after it had been discovered that he had been sending information to King Robert about the movements of Daenerys and Viserys and had been the reason assassins had been able to track them across Essos. Norvos and Qohor had freed their slaves without the threat of dragons—both cities cited the coming of dragons and magic and prophecy (but Y/N hypothesized that the Dothraki might have ‘helped’ their decision). It was all very…strange. Whispers from the red priests and priestess of the Red God of R’hllor, the Lord of Light, were spreading through all of western Essos, calling the four The Princes who were Promised. Azor Ahai, a prophesized hero. And Oberyn had contracted his old sellsword company, the Second Sons, bringing them under his employ to help bolster their forces. That was where he had gone, apparently he had returned only a few moments after Y/N had been carted off to the healers. Blood was still covering the kitchen when he had come in.

“I have only seen him so distressed once before,” Willas said, still holding her hand.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Lady Ellaria, after bringing little Loreza into the world, she kept…bleeding. And Loreza was called ‘sickly’ and ‘weak.’ The maesters told him to expect to lose them both before the sun went down. I have never seen a man so in love and so enraged. He raged at the world. Pleaded with the gods, cursed them. Oberyn threw the maesters out of the palace and sent for a healer from the Orphans of the Greenblood, an elder wise woman who kept the old gods of the Rhoynar. And she came. When the moon rose, Ellaria was holding little Loreza to her breast and she was smiling.” His thumb drew small circles on the back of her hand. “He only smiled again when he kissed them, moon high in the sky and with river water on his skin.” He sighed and a small smile pushed up his lips. “And then he saw you, covered in your own blood and about to welcome the Stranger with both arms. And I saw that desperate, raging man again.”

Y/N looked at him then, watched his untamed, dark curls fall over his forehead and she reached out with her free hand to gently push them back. Willas leaned into her touch and her heart leapt into throat when he turned his face just the slightest bit to slide his lips against the pulse of her wrist. “But I am here now. I am healing.”

“You are. But there is much more to do, is there not? And you will not stop. Not while your hatchlings, Aegon, Rhaenys, Jon, and Daenerys, still need you.” His grip tightened on her hand just a moment. “You will not stop,” he repeated.

“You know I cannot.”

“Then I will be beside you until this is finished.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “And I still have more to tell you.”

The declarations of war from Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, and Pentos were more of what she was expecting. The might of Braavos and the few war ships little Lorath had were pledged to the Martells’ and Targaryens’ cause.

War had come to Essos again.

**

Y/N supposed she should not have been surprised that a few hundred people decided to leave the Bay and follow them toward the Free Cities. Leaving a city in search of a better life was something she had done, many times over.

Volantis had fallen, surrendered and another city had been added to the growing empire. Like in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen, they had settled in the city and weeded out possible uprisings and subterfuge while redistributing the former masters’ wealth and resources to those who deserved it.

When they continued on, part of their army was left to help protect them and help the new council of Freedmen who had pledged loyalty to Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys.

But before they moved on toward the Free Cities, who were already warring with Braavos and a few battalions sent by Qohor and Norvos, they stopped, once again, at Chroyane.

“I have never seen anything more beautiful,” Oberyn said, a large smile splitting his face. “Even in ruin, she is magnificent.”

The two littlest of the Sand Snakes shrieked at the sight and all but leapt from their horse and into the clear river water. Ellaria laughed as she watched them before tying up her skirt to follow suit.

It was a welcome reprieve. Y/N’s scars ached when she moved too quickly sometimes and the constant jostling of her mare sometimes only made it worse. It felt good to dip her feet into the cooled waters and listen to the children laugh and splash in the river. Balerion once again watched one of the giant turtles with calculating eyes as he let the sun warm his black fur.

Oberyn settled at Y/N’s side on the bank of the river and watched the sun set in a quiet companionship. “I never thought I would see this. I never thought the sun would shine on this part of the world again. And here it is, as beautiful as ever.”

“It is almost as if the Mother Rhoyne was simply waiting for them,” Y/N said, tilting her head just so to indicated Rhaenys and Aegon who were now splashing around with Ellaria and her daughters, dodging Tyene and Nymeria’s hands as they tried to dunk them into the slow moving waves.

The four dragons trilled above them in the crystal blue sky, as content as their bonded.

Oberyn’s roughened, warm hand settled over hers on the bank. Without a word, he leaned into her and pressed a slow kiss against the side of her neck but she felt him smile against her skin as she shivered. “You are magnificent, little shark. I owe you, my family owes you a great debt.”

“I am owed nothing. I only want to see them grow and succeed. I love them.”

“And they love you,” Oberyn said as he sat back to look at her, smile at her in the sun. “My family loves you. I love you.”

Her heart stuttered. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. You have made it easy.”

Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, hiding her smile before Oberyn’s finger hooked under her chin and he kissed her briefly.

“Papa!” Dorea called out. “Come play with us!”

Y/N drew back to see his daughters waving him forward, all of them positively drenched. “Go,” Y/N said with a laugh. “You are being summoned.”

Oberyn kissed her cheek before rising and then making a show of running and jumping into the river near them, splashing them all in one motion.

Y/N roared with laughter at the scene but quickly stood when she saw Nymeria and Ellaria turn their gazes to her, hands cupped with water and ready to splash. “Not today!” Y/N stumbled to her feet and managed to evade most of the aimed water as she laughed.

She walked barefoot through the ruins and over the riverbank, seeing their traveling party all partaking in the clean water and cool air. For a moment, there was peace. She spotted Missandei and Grey Worm quietly speaking on the broken stone of a palace, their feet in the water. Irri and Jhiqui were happily watering their horses further downstream while a few other members of the khalasar were racing their mounts through the tall, green grass. Daenerys and Jon were both pulling more weapons from the muck at the opposite bank and handing them off to whomever was by.

But it was Willas, sitting a little further away from the river, which caught her eye. He was cross-legged on the green grass, fiddling with something on his lap while his cane was settled beside him. The sun was shining on his dark hair, curls once again a bit mussed.

“What are you making?”

“A crown,” Willas said, cheeks once again blooming with color as she sat beside him. “My little sister taught me how to do it a few years ago. We would sit in the fields around Highgarden and pluck wildflowers to string together. Hers were always much more polished than mine.”

Y/N leaned a little closer to see that while it might not have been perfectly braided, it was still tightly woven and the flowers were in full bloom. “I think yours is well done, Willas. Will you teach me?”

Y/N laughed as Willas dropped the haphazard crown of white blooms onto her head and it nearly fell over her eyes. “I will let you have mine,” he said, but he did tried to teach her—until Y/N’s indelicate fingers ruined her third crown and she gave up, throwing herself back into the soft grass with a laugh. She reached up for a moment and grabbed the back of Willas’ tunic, pulling him down beside her.

They spoke for a little bit, of magic, of Highgarden, of their adventures in the Bay—now affectionately and rightly dubbed Dragon’s Bay. It was easy.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Y/N hummed at the question, mulling the answers in her mind. “I have lived and crossed the Narrow Sea, the Summer Sea, too. I have tasted and tested the Jade Sea. The Shivering Sea holds no value to me and that only leaves…”

“The Sunset Sea.” Willas nodded. She might have noticed a bit of pink touch his cheeks but she did not mention it. “The Mander, the river in the Reach, rushes by Highgarden and empties into the Sunset Sea.” He cleared his throat. “I could… House Tyrell has barges which sail that route easily. I would be happy to make sure you see your wish fulfilled.”

Y/N smiled and shook her head as she turned in the grass to look at him. “You are far too kind, Lord Willas. But what of you? Where would you go?”

The pink was raging on his cheeks now. “I would wish to only be at your side.”

Y/N felt her next breath stall in her throat and she looked at him, his cheeks still filled with pink but his blue eyes were so earnest—they had always been so lovely. “I suppose I do provide a bit of adventure.”

“You provide much more than that. I promise you.”

She wanted to say something. She wanted to say that he provided so much more than anything she could have hoped for but, it seemed that fate had other plans. “Y/N!”

She sat up from the grass to see Daenerys and a still-damp Rhaenys waving her over. The ground shook as both Drogon and Vēzos landed. They made quite a pair, the black and the yellow. “What is it, my loves?”

“We are taking them up to test their wings with riders again.” It had been a new practice, apparently, for all four of them to take their dragons to flight. They were surely large enough for it now.

Daenerys quickly climbed onto Drogon’s back and Rhaenys did the same.

“Come with me,” Rhaenys said, extending a hand toward Y/N. “Fly.”

Without thought, Y/N took Rhaenys’ hand and let her pull her up onto Vēzos’ back. And then, with a rumble, they were taking to the sky, the cool air whipping over her skin as she held, probably too tightly, to the spikes along the dragon’s back. But she listened to Rhaenys laugh and saw Daenerys smile and her momentary fear vanished. They were happy.

And she was flying.

When they landed, a small group of Freedmen were waiting for them and asked for an audience with Rhaenys which she quickly agreed to, always willing to hear anything her subjects would bring to her.

“Your Grace,” one man said, a timid smile on his face. “It would be a great honor if we could rebuild the palace for you and your family. The city.”

Rhaenys shook her head as she reached out toward the man and gently took his rough hands. “Your life is your own. You do not need to rebuild the city simply because I find it lovely.”

The man ducked his head, smile growing. “We know it is not an order you would give, Your Grace. We have made a…” he frowned, searching for the word, “council, as you have in Astapor and Yunkai and Meereen. And we want to stay here, rebuild. The soil is fertile, the trade possibility is strong. We could build a home here, beautiful and strong like it once was.”

Y/N watched Rhaenys’ eyes fill with tears and she diverted her gaze, letting the young queen compose herself.

“And you truly believe that your families could be happy here? It could take years before it is fully rebuilt.”

The man nodded and looked at Rhaenys, his small smile growing. “It will be hard work, but I know it would be worth it, Your Grace. A new home for us, for your family.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she squeezed the man’s hands again. “Then it would be an honor.”

**

The Disputed Lands had been feuded over and razed and rebuilt over and over again since the Doom. Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr all laid claim to them and would war with the others over the fertile soil. But they now belonged to Rhaenys and her brothers and aunt.

Braavos and Lorath were making almost embarrassingly quick work of conquering the cities with the help of another set of sellsword companies from the north and east, and with the Dragons and their armies making war on them from the west and Y/N and Willas led a small fleet of ships outfitted with weapons salvaged from the Chroyane sailing from the South, it was finished within a few short moons.

The Sealord of Braavos met them just outside the high walls of Pentos, presenting them with the signed surrender of the magistrates and city prince—and a few extra ‘gifts.’ One was the head of Illyrio Mopatis. The next two were faces she barely recognized—and truly, she recognized their names more than their persons. Tyrion Lannister and Varys both had chains around their wrists but seemed pleased with the situation. “They say they want to swear loyalty to your dragon kings and queens.”

“Yes, well,” Y/N’s eyes dragged over the pair, distrusting. “Most do after they see dragonfire.” The fire still blazing behind the walls scented the air.

Y/N left her charges to speak politics with their ally and went to check on the dragons as they rested in the fields. The four had fought bravely, if not a little erratically. They were still getting used to battles and they were still young. They were fearsome though, and Y/N loved them as their riders did. The large creatures huffed in welcome as she neared and she patted their sides in hello.

Oberyn carefully walked toward them, knowing that the dragons recognized him but was still cautious. When they accepted his familiar scent, they either lowered their heads to rest again or nudged him once in greeting. “They are protective of you,” Oberyn said as he watched Y/N stroke at Drogon’s nose, content. “You may not be their bonded rider, but they know you just the same.”

“I think it is because their riders smell like me.”

Drogon huffed.

“He disagrees,” Oberyn said with a laugh. “They recognize you because they feel what their bonded riders feel.”

“I would not argue with a dragon,” Ellaria laughed as she joined them in the field. She reached out and stroked Rhaegal’s side. “They are calling for the Queenmaker,” she said as she watched Rhaegal’s wings stretch.

Y/N sighed. She had earned a few monikers during the conquest of western Essos. She had been called Queenmaker. The Sea Dragon. Preposterous names, truly. The four had given themselves their crowns, forged their own paths. She just made sure they had survived to this point. She did not make them. And she had no dragon of her own. But she answered to the monikers anyway. It was less of an argument. “What has happened now?”

Ellaria chuckled. “I do believe it is to settle a dispute between a few of your Corsairs.”

Y/N nodded and excused herself but was stopped when Ellaria grasped her wrist. She kissed her quickly with a smile. “Come back soon. It has been a long day.”

And Y/N quickly hurried off, a smile on her face.

**

They settled in Pentos. The throne that once belonged to the Prince of Pentos had been divided into four equal chairs, just as all the thrones of the cities they had conquered had been. The rooms were thankfully spacious and an entire room had been filled with the scrap Valyrian Steel they had taken from the ruins and mud of the Chroyane. It would provide food and protection for their new empire if spent correctly—and Willas was already making sure that food was being traded responsibly and fairly between the cities while the sellsword companies they had paid were continuing to be paid to keep their loyalty. And he was also mostly in charge of the ‘care’ of their two Westerosi guests. Tyrion and Varys had proven mostly useful with their knowledge about the political turmoil currently engulfing the Seven Kingdoms and bringing news of the “terrible” death of Tywin Lannister while also providing possible battle plans when they finally did make land for Rhaenys’ crown. But Y/N still did not like them.

But that was not her mission for the day (despite realizing how handsome Willas looked while poring over the parchment detailing food storage and trade routes in his chambers with a slumbering Balerion on his lap). No. Aegon’s ten-and-six nameday was nearly upon them and Y/N had the perfect present in mind. She had given a set of Valyrian Steel-tipped arrows and a dragonbone bow to Rhaenys for her ten-and-sixth nameday, and now it was Aegon’s turn. The stupid lion head pommel was not Valyrian steel so she had no problem seeing it hacked off and reworked. The smith was quick and skilled, easily melting the gold into a puddle to be reformed. She watched him work, perching on the rickety stool in the corner and talking with him as the smoke and steam from his work clouded the forge. He was a genial man, happy to tell his story and hear hers in return. “They are blessed to have you, the little kings and queens.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “No, no. I am the blessed. They have been the lights of my life.”

“You have no children?”

Y/N nearly choked on her breath at the blunt question. “N-no. I have been… They have been my children, I suppose.”

The smith nodded at that and then continued to work in silence, attaching the new pommel to the rest of the jeweled hilt. He made it look easy and handed over the sword, now topped with a sun. It was perfect—and finished just in time.

She presented it to him at the end of his favorite meal and laughed when he tried to hug her, still holding the blade out in front of him.

“Let me see it!” Oberyn said with a laugh and Aegon happily handed it over to his uncle who inspected it with a practiced eye. Y/N did not expect the laughter that bubbled out of Oberyn’s throat but it made her smile either way. “Did this have a lion’s head, little shark?”

Y/N nodded.

Oberyn handed the blade back over to Aegon with a flourish. “You are holding the Valyrian steel sword that House Lannister once wielded. I find it…poetic that you will now call it your own.”

“But it needs a name!” Jon said. “All good swords need a name.”

Aegon held the sword up as Rhaenys and Daenerys cheered alongside their family. “It shall be called Sunshard.”

Perhaps she could convince him to change it later or Jon would come up with a better name for the Valyrian Steel axe she had stowed away for his next nameday or the dagger she would give to Daenerys for hers. But for now, she let Aegon swing the sword around like he was a little boy in the training grounds again.

For now, they were happy.

When the celebration died down and they dispersed for the night, the taste of honeycakes and lemon still on their tongues, Y/N found herself surprised to find Daenerys and Rhaenys waiting for her in the small solar connected to her chambers.

“This is a surprise, my loves. How may I help you?”

Rhaenys reached out her hands for Y/N to take and squeezed them both three times with a smile as she pulled her down on the cushioned bench between them. “Today was a joyous day. One finally filled without war or training or bloodshed.”

“We have all fought hard for it,” Daenerys murmured.

“You were a child yourself when you took us with you to Essos. Where had your childhood gone? The court at the Red Keep. Running and hiding with three babes who were not yours through a foreign land.”

“I made that choice. And I would make it again-”

“I am asking you to make the choice to be happy. To let yourself have an adventure without worrying over us.”

“I will always worry over you.”

“Just as we worry over you. You have been our guiding hand, our fiercest protector and staunchest supporter. Our most loyal older sibling. You have loved us. We love you. And we want you to be happy.”

Y/N turned to Daenerys as if that would provide some sort of answer. “Are you asking me to leave your side?”

“Never!” Both Rhaenys and Daenerys shouted.

“We will never send you away. But, we want you to know that if you are called to someone’s side, we want you to be happy.”

“What has brought this on? Have I said something?” The words caught in her throat but Rhaenys simply squeezed her hands again. One two three.

“No. But we have realized that you have set aside everything for us. And we simply want you to be happy.”

They each leaned forward and kissed her on the cheeks. The three spoke for a little longer, calming Y/N’s strange fear of being sent away, before they excused themselves with matching yawns. But Y/N could not sleep. Not with that strange revelation singing in her ears.

She pulled on her dressing gown and padded down to the gardens of the palace. She could hear the sea and it was a small comfort. But she turned at the familiar tap of a cane against stone and smiled as Willas settled beside her.

“You could not sleep either?”

He shook his head, curls sliding against his ears. “I suppose I am now accustomed to a little more excitement during the day to tire me out.”

Y/N chuckled and angled her head up to look at the glittering stars. “But it was a good day. I can sleep late tomorrow.”

The pair was quiet for a moment, the comfortable silence between them only broken by the inconsistent chittering of a bird or the sea crashing against the city walls.

“When this is over, will you rest?”

Y/N frowned at the question and turned to look at him. “Rest?”

“When the little hatchlings are settled in their kingdoms and safe. Where will you be?”

“I…” She tried to find the words she needed but she did not know the answer.

Willas reached out and gently grasped her hand. “You deserve rest too, my lady.” He looked at her, blue eyes shining and a familiar pink tint to his cheeks.

The quiet moment was cut short by a violent scream—one Y/N knew too well. She leapt to her feet and dashed back into the palace. Y/N pushed through the hall and burst into Rhaenys’ room to see her shivering on her bed. “Oh, my sunshine.”

Rhaenys reached out for her and Y/N instantly wrapped her arms around her as they sunk into the plush featherbed. “They have come again,” she whispered. “The cold. The ice. The terrible dead men. They are haunting me again.” Rhaenys reached up and played with the sun pendant. And then she was a little girl again and Y/N was reading her a story about talking turtles to help her sleep. “We have to go back to Westeros,” Rhaenys said, voice soft but steady. “They are coming.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Your reblogs, likes, and comments mean the world to me!

(and another banner by the lovely @thesadvampire​) 

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#Oberyn Martell x Reader #Oberyn Martell imagine #willas tyrell x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf #oberyn martell #willas tyrell #ellaria sand

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 3.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 29th July 2021

Word count: 4 219

Warnings: none

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 2.)

Chap. 3.

The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.

You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.

You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.

But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.

Baekhyun must have thought similarly.

You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.

You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.

“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.

“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.

“You want to drink something before we go?”

You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.

“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”

“You can tell I need it?”

“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”

His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.

He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.

“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.

“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.

“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.

“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”

“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.

“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”

And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.

“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”

You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.

“I don’t think there’s anything important.”

“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.

“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.

“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”

“I-I know.”

“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”

“Oh.”

“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.

His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.

You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.

The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.

It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.

Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.

“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.

“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.

“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.

“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”

“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”

He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.

“Hungry?”

“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.

Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.

“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).

You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.

“You worked today?” you asked.

“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”

Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.

“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”

That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.

“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.

“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.

“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.

“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.

“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”

You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.

“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”

The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.

“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.

“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”

“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”

“…I may,” you answered carefully.

“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”

“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.

Baekhyun was silent for a moment.

“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”

“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.

“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.

“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.

“You have anything on your mind?”

“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.

“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”

“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.

“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”

The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.

“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.

Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.

“Well then, shall we start?”

* * *

You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.

Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.

Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?

Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.

Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.

“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”

You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.

“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.

You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.

“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”

The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.

“Is it necessary…?”

“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.

“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”

You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.

Apparently, not well enough.

The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.

Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.

“Spread.”

You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.

“You’re slouching again.”

“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.

You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.

You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.

“You want to be a pet?”

He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.

But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!

Next (Chapter 4.)

#exowritersnet #kdiarynet #bbh-net #exosnet #exo baekhyun #exo bbh #bbh x reader #bbh #exo #byun baekhyun #exo fanfiction #baekhyun fanfiction #exo x reader #baekhyun x reader #vg: vulnerability #vg: exo #vg: baekhyun #vg: series

[kyukiss]

Hello, can I request a scenario where Leona hears his crush and close friend (the reader) getting a confession from Malleus. She rejects her, but maybe Leona didn’t listen so far and is now avoiding her. Is this okay to request? I hopw you will do it, but no hard feelings if you don’t. Don’t overwork yourself :)

Oya I got my first request and it's an interesting one! 👀👀👀

But yeah it's alright~!

I'm so sorry for the wait! This took longer to write than what I thought, and was quite busy T_T

Apologies if the characters are OOC!

Leona x Fem! Reader x Malleus

Today was an awfully quiet Saturday in Night Raven College. A yawned escaped from the dorm leader of Savanaclaw's mouth. He was on his way back to his dorm from the botanical garden. Passing the courtyard, his eyes gaze on two people under a tree and his ears twitched upon hearing a phrase he wasn't pleased to hear.

"I did felt like I've met you once upon a dream before, Child of Man."

Curiousity bloomed inside of him as he hid behind another tree near them. His tail flicked of anticipation waiting for his long time secret crush's answer.

"Once upon a dream?" [Reader] repeated with a confused tone, to which Malleus nodded with a gentle smile.

"We were in a forest having a picnic like the one time we ever had." He reminded, making [Reader]'s eyes gleam and widened.

"Really? That's adorable!"

Malleus laughed lightly at her reaction, before clearing his throat.

"So, would you be interested to be my partner, Child of man?" He popped the question.

The lion behind the tree couldn't take it anymore, he let out a quiet yet ferocious growl under his breath and immediately left the area. Leona didn't want to be questioned why so he sneakily made his way out of the courtyard and decided to use another route to get to the hall of mirrors.

A couple of weeks passby ever since that day, [Reader] did took notice that Leona was avoiding her every time she tried talking to him. It's been happening too many times that she's quite fed up with it.

She was pacing around the hall of mirrors thinking if she should confront Leona about it. Surely if they were good friends he'd tell her what's wrong, but at the same time [Reader] knows that he isn't that type of person or beastman.

[Reader] took a deep breath, made her choice and jumped into the Savanaclaw dorm mirror. Once she arrived at the dorm, she was greeted by none other than the members.

"Well well lookie here, a lost trespasser." Savanaclaw Resident A crossed his arms, a smirk was written across his face.

"We weren't expecting any visitors, so whatcha doing here?" Savanaclaw Resident B asked, but his tone didn't sound welcoming at all.

"I'm just-"

"Oi, leave the herbivore alone." A deep familiar voice cut [Reader] off.

"Leona!" Both residence said together in surprised.

"Just let her be. Now scram." Leona bared his fangs with a low growl, with that the two Savanaclaw members ran away from him. Leona heaved a heavy and lazy sigh before shoving his hands into his pockets and began to walk away.

"L-Leona! Wait!" [Reader] extended her hand catching up to him.

"What?" He grumbled picking up the pace.

"S-Slow down! I just want to talk!" [Reader] pleaded picking up her pace as well. She managed to get a grab on his arm to which Leona swatted away as gently as possible.

"Why are you avoiding me?!"

That caused a pause of silence between the two individuals, Leona turned back towards her with a cold stare.

"I'm not." He simply answered.

"You've been acting off for the past couple of days.. Is there something wrong?"

"Tch, nothing's wrong."

Her lips curved into frown, taking the answer as a lie.

"Leona.."

"I told you herbivore, I'm fine." He grumbled placing a hand on his forehead. "I'm just in a hurry, I need to go."

[Reader] took the idea as he had a dorm meeting and he wasn't in the mood for it. She took a deep breath cracking a weak smile.

"A-alright.. I won't bother you." She said turning from his back walking away from him.

Leona watched her before turning his head away. Gritting teeth, he stormed out of the area to go back to his room. Was the choice he made right? He avoided her for more than just one reason. Upset, but to her? No, [Reader]'s supposed to be allowed to make her own choice on who she loves. At Malleus? Slightly from stealing his crush away.

At himself? Yes, he does secretly wished that he confessed beforehand when he got the opportunity to.

──✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰.:｡✧.｡:｡.｡✱ ───

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠!

──✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰.:｡✧.｡:｡.｡✱ ───

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar #cookiewrites #arguably angst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

[na-yiii]

KING || Min Yoongi x OC

Pairings: King! Min Yoongi x Queen! Named Female OC || King! Jung Hoseok X Queen! Named Female OC

Summary: Rin is nervous yet excited to spend her first night as  queen with her husband, King Jung Hoseok. Unfortunately an uninvited guest had to interrupt what was supposed to be a romantic night.

Rating: M

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Non Con. Oral (female receiving). Smut. Losing Virginity. Forced Pregnancy. Arranged Marriage. Murder. Blood.

A/N: Hey everyone it has been such a long time since I have posted a story. My apologies for that. Work and uni has been taking up so much time T_T I hope you enjoy this short story. Let me know what you think of it.

“Are you excited?” a maid named Eunah asked as she carefully removed a golden hair pin from the former princess’ head. “I am not sure if excited is the correct term to describe my current state,” Rin said as she stared at her reflection. Her tight bun slowly got looser as Eunah removed the bejeweled hairpins one by one. In matter of minutes her dark hair got untangled and touched her shoulders. The make-up started to show some cracks around her mouth and on her forehead while her lips become drier as time went by. “I have heard that king Jung Hoseok is a wonderful man, I am confident he will take a good care of you,” Eunah said in an attempt to calm the newlywed. “But I don’t even know him,” Rin said as her eyes lowered and stared at her wedding ring that connected her to the king. Eunah was not sure how to respond. She knew Rin was right. She indeed barely knew the man. It has been only 18 hours since the two have met and exchanged their vows in front of the nation.

“Does it hurt?” Rin suddenly asked and watched how Eunah removed the dried-up makeup with a wet cloth. “I heard from the senior staff that the first time always hurts,” Eunah replied as she dipped the filthy cloth in the cold water to rinse the dried makeup. “What if I don’t bleed?” Rin whispered as she become more anxious by the thought of not bleeding during the first time. Will Hoseok be disappointed? What if she fails to bear him a heir? Will that ruin her marriage with the king?

“Your majesty please do not cloud your mind with those kinds of thoughts. King Hoseok is an understanding man,” Eunah reassured the queen and smiled at her. “You are done, my queen. I will leave the room so that you can change,” Eunah announced as she grabbed a bowl and exited the room. Once the maid had left, Rin took a deep breath and stood up from the velvet chair. She made her way to the bed and stared at the long white lacy dress that was in front of her. The dress was beautiful. Not wanting to upset her husband, Rin quickly undressed herself and put on the night gown.

The halls of the castle were dark. The only source of light came from the candles that were lit. Ever since the sun disappeared the temperature dropped significantly. Rin wrapped her arms around her body in hopes not to freeze by the time she is with her husband. Suddenly Eunah halted her movements and looked over her shoulder. “Here’s the room, queen Rin,” Eunah announced and looked at the large white door. “Thank you, Eunah,” Rin replied as she stood there and stared at the door. Here it is, the moment Rin has been preparing from the moment she was born. Rin was excited, there was no denying in that. Getting married to a king and carrying his child had been Rin’s dream as long as she can remember. Since today she would not longer belong to her parents. She will no longer be known by her name. The only title she will carry will be the mother of Hoseok’s scion.

“Your majesty, are you alright?” Eunah asked worried as she watched how the queen slowly drowned in her thoughts. Rin blinked a few times before she looked at the maid and nodded. Just when Rin wanted to open the door, Eunah quickly grabbed her wrist and looked at the queen. “Your majesty keep in mind even if it hurts don’t tell him to stop,” the maid admonished Rin as she looked deep into the queen’s eyes. The woman dressed white was not sure how to react so she nodded yet again.

King Hoseok’s bedroom was warm toned. Different shades of red brought to room to life while accents of gold gave the room more definition. Gingerly the woman walked around the room as she studied every detail. The room felt quite alive despite the absence of the king. As Rin walked deeper into the room, her anxiety grew. “King Jung,” she called when she saw the silhouette of the king. He was standing on the balcony looking at the moon. It took Rin two more attempts to finally catch her husband’s attention. King Hoseok looked over his shoulder and looked at his first wife. She was breathtakingly beautiful. With her hair down and her face stripped off all the makeup she looked stunning. The white lacy dress made her look so innocent. Hoseok licked his lower lip as he looked through the lace and stared at her breasts.

“Please just call me Hoseok, we don’t have to use formal language as a married couple,” Hoseok said while he reached his hand out to her. Rin smiled and took his hand as she moved closer to him. Hoseok wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. “You smell wonderful,” he complimented her before sniffing her scent once again. A tint of pink appeared on Rin’s cheeks. “Thank you Kin- Hoseok,” she said and placed her hand on his chest. The married couple stood there what felt like forever to Rin.

“Do…Do you want to begin?” Hoseok asked as he looked at Rin, who nervously nodded. Hoseok grabbed her hand and brought her inside. Once the balcony door was closed behind him the atmosphere changed. The tension was undeniable. “How do-” Hoseok interrupted her by scurring to his wife and kissing her deeply. The kiss was rather sloppy. It revealed how much Hoseok was craving her. Without any warning or permission, he pushed his tongue into her mouth and explored it. His right hand wrapped around her neck while his other hand disappeared under her dress. His hand was so warm that she almost melted in his hand.

It did not take long before Hoseok began to mark her neck while his hands untied her night gown and started to remove every layer of clothing. “Do you want my baby?” Hoseok asked while panting. His excitement was something he could not hide, even if he tried. He waited all his life for this moment. The moment he saw her talking to his former friend, he knew he had to have her.

Gently Hoseok pushed his wife on the bed and stared at her naked body. It was just perfection. Everything about her was paradisiacal. The tightness of his pants became uncomfortable the longer he stared at her body. Hastily he got rid of his clothes and climbed on top of her. Feeling her naked skin on his made him almost cum. Carefully Rin lifted her hand and touched his naked body. Her skin was soft while her touch was indescribable. “Hoseok,” Rin whispered as her husband’s face disappeared in her neck to continue leaving marks. “Mmm?” Hoseok said. He was too concentrated to find her sensitive spot. A spot that would make her moan. “I have heard that the first time will be painful,” Rin shared her concern with her husband. Hoseok immediately halted his action and looked at her. He felt sympathetic for her. Unlike Hoseok, Rin was heavily shielded away from the world by her parents. She was not allowed to leave the castle. She was even prohibited from being around the opposite sex. Hoseok was very aware of this fact, so he naturally understood her concerns.

“How about I blindfold you? This way you don’t have to see it happen. Maybe that will calm you down,” Hoseok suggested as he gently caressed her lower back. His touch was light and tender, it was like a gentle breeze on a hot summer day. “Okay,” Rin agreed and watched how Hoseok grabbed a satin scarf, which was wrapped around his neck when the two were standing at the alter earlier today. Rin closed her eyes and let her husband blindfold her with the soft material. “Is it not too tight?” Hoseok asked once he tied a knot with the two ends. “No, it’s fine,” Rin answered. “I will be gentle,” her husband promised her before he began to plant kisses on her body.

Hoseok took his time. Making sure his wife was comfortable was his priority. He did not want to hurt or scare her. Slowly yet gently he studied her body. He took a mental note of her sensitive spots as he lowered himself. “Are you alright?” Hoseok asked right before he planted a kiss on her clit. A soft moan escaped from Rin’s mouth. She did not understand the feeling but oddly she liked it. “Don’t stop” she said hoping he would continue with his action. “Alright, my wife,” he chuckled and continued pleasuring his wife.

Rin’s body was relaxed while her mind was in cloud nine. The things Hoseok made her feel felt great. She was hooked to the feeling. She wanted more and more. “Are you ready?” Hoseok asked and looked at her. Seeing his wife blindfolded and vulnerable made him almost lose his mind. “Yeah,” Rin said timidly as she suppressed her nervousness. “Don’t worry, it will be an indelible evening,” he said before he leaned down and planted lovingly a kiss on her soft lips.

Suddenly Hoseok’s warm touch disappeared just as his breathing. The silence in the room terrified the queen. She was not sure if this was part of the love making. The only sound that could be heard by Rin was the beating of her own heart. “Hoseok?” she said softly. Patiently she waited for a reaction from her husband but was only met with silence.

Out of the blue she felt something warm landing on her naked body. It was wet and felt somewhat thick. The liquid had an odd smell to it. She was not sure how to describe it. The way how the liquid felt on her made her skin crawl. Something did not feel right. Just when Rin opened her mouth to say her husband’s name, she felt a sharp pain between her legs. The pain was so powerful that it made her uncomfortable. A pair of cold hands grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to them. The pair of cold hands gently pushed her legs wider before the they placed themselves comfortably between her legs and began to thrust.

The pace was slow yet powerful. With every thrust her body moved away from the person, only to get pulled back. “Hoseok…It hurts…” Rin whimpered as she placed her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. He did not listen he kept on going. His pace went from slow to fast while his grip on her hips became tighter to the point she could feel his nails bore into her skin. “Hoseok!” Rin yelled hoping it would make him halt but it did not bring any change in the situation. Hoseok’s thrusts became so powerful that the bed started to creak and the bed post began to hit the wall.

The silence in the room disappeared when Rin heard someone panting and groaning. Occasionally a curse word could be heard. Suddenly the queen felt something warm being shot inside of her. Hoseok’s thrusts slowed down as it became sloppier. Slowly the man stopped trusting and began to catch his breath. He yet had to pull himself out of her. Rin’s patience wore thin to the point she grabbed the satin scarf and removed it. The brightness in the room blinded her for a few seconds. Once she had her sight back, her eyes met with the eyes of a man who was not her husband.

The unknown man had long blond hair. The top half of hair was tied together while the bottom half was loose. A black headband partially covered his forehead. Golden earrings dangled from his ears while golden necklaces decorated his neck. A vertical scar was visible on his face. The smirk on his face was twisted while his eyes reflect the evil he had in him. There was something familiar about him. Has she met him before?

When Rin realized that the mysterious man was still inside of her, she tried to push him away. The blond man quickly grabbed her legs and pinned them down. “It is not kind to kick someone, your majesty,” the man said as he dug his nails into her skin, causing it to bleed. “Who are you? How did you get in?” Rin asked panickily. “You would think that the security of the new king and queen would be top-notch, but you will be surprised how many flaws it has,” the man revealed after he finally pulled himself out of her. Quickly Rin closed her legs and moved away from the mysterious man. “You can call me King Yoongi, honey,” the man said as a twisted smile appeared on his face.

“Wha-…?” Rin asked confused. Suddenly she felt something dripping on her side. The queen looked down and was shocked when she discovered that the liquid she felt earlier was blood. It was still fresh. From her peripheral vision, Rin saw a black shadow laying next to her. Slowly she turned her head to the right. The view of the bloodied body of her husband made her nauseous. Her eyes became watery while her breathing shortened. “You monster!” Rin yelled. Unexpectedly she lifted her right leg and kicked Yoongi in the face. Quickly she jumped out of the bed. Trying to get out of the room as fast as possible but just when she was about to grab the door handle, she felt the familiar cold hands grab her. Fear was written all over her face as she got trapped between the wooden door and Yoongi’s body.

“You and I will rule this nation so well,” Yoongi said as he lowered his hand to caress her belly. Rin’s body froze when she finally realized that her biggest dream turned into her worst nightmare. Tears escaped from her eyes and fell down her cheeks. Her knees could not support her anymore causing her to fall. Yoongi quickly caught her and wrapped his arms around her. “Did your family really think that getting you married to another king would make me give up?” Yoongi asked rhetorically.

Rin cried as she stared dolefully at the lifeless body of Hoseok.

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bangtan #bts #yoongi smut #yandere writing #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #named oc #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts writing #bts yandere #yandere bts

[gh0styyt0astyy]

Just read the other Madness t-fics, and now I'm here to request something involving the prompt list! Could you perhaps do prompt 6("Your laugh is so cute!”) and prompt 30 (“I love seeing you laugh!”) with Sanmos? No preference on who's the lee/ler! Thanks

✨ [ So gigglee! ] ✨

———————————

⭐️ [Summary] — Sanford really likes the way Deimos’ laugh sounds… and finds something new in the process! (Lee!Deimos + Ler!Sanford)

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; SHIPPING; if you don’t like then please scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompts] — 6 / 30 / 23

deimos…. <333

key:

deimos

sanford

[prompt list A] || [prompt list B] || requests: closed!

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

——————

“GET BACK! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!” A yell echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls. “BACK! STAY BACK I SAID!” Another yell answered back. Heavy boots thudded against the hard floors as the chased took a heavy dive into another room.

“YOU IDIOT! That’s my room!” The heavy, strained voice called out, following that sharp right into the room and towering in the doorway. “Oh shit.” Deimos inhaled, looking for a way out as he was walked back to the wall. “S—San wait a minute! We can talk this through!” The shorter man tried, yelping when a hand slapped onto the wall, making him shrink ever so slightly.

“Yeah? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“Uhh… because- um. You’d— I’d- it wouldn’t, uh,” Deimos fumbled with his words, struggling to form together the sentence in his head. “You have three seconds to give me the reason.” Sanford said, the hand on his hip raising to show the number three.

“Three seconds!? Come on! At least give me four!” Deimos seemed insulted about the fact he only had three seconds to power his brain.

“One.”

Oh. Oh shit he’s starting the countdown.

“WAIT THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

“Two.”

“Sanfohord!” Deimos laughed in anticipation, having given up in trying to find a reason. It was inevitable, why prolong it?

“Three. Time’s up Chucklehead!” Sanford suddenly grabbed Deimos, wrestling him to the floor. “AAA SANFORD NO—!” The two grappled for a moment, Deimos kicking and pushing at Sanford’s arms and legs.

“BACK! GET BACK YOU FIEND!” Deimos screamed, unable to control his volume. “C’MERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Sanford yelled back, eventually pinning Deimos flat on the ground and putting a knee to his stomach. Despite this, Deimos continued to try and fight his way out.

“Nope! No use, Chucklehead! You’re stuck here, and you’re gonna taste just how bittersweet revenge is!”

Deimos had literally no time to process anything before he felt five fingers buzzing into his side. “whAHAHIT SAHAhanforhod!” Deimos tried curling into a sitting position, though with the leg on his stomach he didn’t get very far.

“You know? I love seeing you laugh, Dei!” Sanford teased, squeezing the skin on Deimos’ lower ribs. “Your laugh is so cute! I’m sad I don’t hear it as often as I wish I could.”

Deimos felt his face immediately heat up, like it was on fire. It didn’t matter if Sanford was his boyfriend or not, the shorter of the pair would never get used to how sappy and sweet Sanford could be when given the chance…

“It ihihis nahahHAHAT! SAHAHAN!” Deimos suddenly raised an octave in laughter as five more fingers dug into his other side. “Okay, well, we both know that’s just a lie. It is cute, aaaand you can’t change my mind!”

“ShuHUHT UHUHP! BWAHAHAHAA!” Deimos thrashed, pushing at Sanford’s arms and chest. “Ihihit tIHIHICKLES!”

“Yeah, no dip buddy. It’s supposed too?” Sanford laughed, grinning down at Deimos. “Seriously, you and your laugh are so different from each other? It’s somehow absolutely both enamoring, and confusing.”

“BwEAHAHAAH— NNHEHEHE SAHAHANFOHORD—-!”

When a snort left Deimos’ mouth, Sanford was taken aback slightly, eyes widening in both surprise and curiosity. Deimos took the moment to breathe, still giggling and even snorting between breaths. “Dei… did you just snort?” Sanford asked.

“Nohohoo—-“ Deimos was a horrible liar. “Oh my god. You just keep giving me more and more reasons to adore you.” Deimos’ hands shot to his face, covering it with his forearms as he accidentally knocked off his visor and headset. “Dohon’t commehehent on ihiht.” Deimos huffed, yelping and squirming when he felt a jab to his stomach.

“C’moooonn. It was cute!”

“Wahahas not!”

“It totally was.”

“Absolutely nahahaht!”

“You really think you’re in any position to argue with me on this?”

“I cahan try!”

Sanford silently laughed, getting up off of Deimos and offering a hand to his boyfriend. “Alright, I’ll be nicer than you are… and I’ll spare you for now.” He smiled, pulling the other onto his feet.

“Though, now that I know you snort…”

“I swear to God I will end you and your whole bloodline if this gets anywhere.” Deimos threatened, holding his visor and headset in one hand. Sanford only smiled.

“Ironic…” Was all Sanford said before he darted out of the room, calling for Hank. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Deimos quickly followed after him.

#ghosty.keysmash #ghosty.replies #mc tickling #sfw tickle fic #writing #lee!deimos #ler!sanford #SORRY ITS LIKE 3 AM AND I JUST FINISHED THIS #IM SORRY IF THE QUALITY ISNT WHAT YOU TWO WERE HOPING FOR 😭😭😭

[scxrlettwxtches]

[8:14p.m.] kiss at the other’s place + confession | lee minho

warnings: swearing

requested: yes!

a/n: im sorryyy, anon, i hit a bit of a slump when i wrote this, so it’s not my best work T_T

With potato chip bags, a bowl of popcorn, and a half finished cup of boba all sprawled out around you, you had no intentions of getting up from the comfort of your couch, feasting on your spoils as you rewatched Avatar for the 600th time. 

That’s why you were ready to smack whoever was ringing your doorbell, pressing the button three times, indicating urgency. You groaned, slithering off the couch like a blob of goo as you made your way to the door. With the rain pouring outside, you half expected the person at your door to be a serial killer, which was why you almost shrieked when you opened it to find none other than your best friend standing in the front porch, shivering and sopping wet from head to toe.

“M-minho?! What the fuck are you doing here?!” you exclaimed, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him into your house. He was dressed impeccably, wearing a suit and dress pants that just looked so dashing on him if he wasn’t doused like a wet dog, “Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”

The boy finally looked at you, his gaze harsh and glinting, and you gulped instinctively, “Why weren’t you at prom?” he snapped back. 

“I wasn’t going. I thought you knew,” you said, blinking confusedly before moving to walk away from him, going to get a towel so he could dry himself off. Minho, however, had other plans, and his hand lashed out, grabbing your wrist.

“You didn’t tell me,” he spoke. His voice sounded angry, but the way his hand trembled as it gripped your wrist and the way he refused to look you in the eye made you almost believe that he wasn’t angry, but hurt. 

You did your best to shrug it off, pulling your hand away from his, “Oops, I guess I forgot. Lemme go grab you a towel,” you said, turning around once again, and Minho finally snapped.

Moving forward he grabs both of your shoulders and pins you against the wall, his eyes blazing, “Why are you doing this?!” he yelled. Your eyes widened at the way his wet hair fell below his eyes, and you tried your best not to acknowledge how fucking handsome he looked at that moment. 

“What exactly am I doing?” you said passively, keeping your voice even.

Minho’s lip quivered, and for a moment, you thought he was about to cry, but a bitter laughter tumbled out of his mouth, “What are you doing?” he repeated your question, and the smile on his face grows stony, “You’re pushing me away!”

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit!” he yelled, his face moving even closer to yours, “I had no idea where you were. I looked all over school to find you. I had to ask our friends in order to find out you were here! Everyone besides me, your best friend, knew you were staying at home, and you have the heart to tell me that you’re not pushing me away?” Minho’s voice cracked at the end, and you could only stare at him, the confusion clear on your face.

“Why were you looking for me?” you asked curiously, “You were going to prom with Yeji. You didn’t have to waste time looking for me. Did you honestly expect me to be there?”

“Yes, I fucking did,” Minho’s anger returned in full force as he tightened his grip on your shoulders, and he spit out the words like they physically hurt him, “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot what?”

The hurt was now clear as day in his eyes, and you almost felt bad, the only thing preventing your guilt was the knowledge that you didn’t do anything wrong. 

“Our promise, Y/N, our fucking promise!” he yelled, “We promised in freshmen year that we’d dance together at prom! You forgot all about it, didn’t you?”

Suddenly, the anger rose in your chest because how dare he yell at you as if you were the one that betrayed your promises to each other, “I forgot? Are you fucking serious right now?! You’re telling me that you actually cared about that stupid promise when you straight up told me that you were going to ask Yeji out to prom?!”

“What does that have to do with our promise?” Minho scoffed, and your heart has never felt more pain.

“Everything, Minho, everything!” You finally push him harshly, causing him to fall back a couple steps in surprise. You’d never done this, you’d never fought against him before. You were always such a passive person, always willing to do what other people wanted without holding grudges or getting angry. And yet, here you were, your eyes filled with fury, frustration, pain. 

You ran a hand through your messy hair and you backed away as soon as you’d lashed out at him, “Go take a shower and get changed. You know where your clothes are,” you said, your voice tight as you walked away.

“H-hey, we haven’t finished--”

“Just go take a shower, Minho!” He backed away in surprise at the way your voice broke into a sob as you rushed into your room, slamming the door without hesitation. It was a miracle that your parents were away on a business trip. 

The moment you heard the shower turn on, you lifted your head from where you’d buried it under the pillow. With distinctively red and puffy eyes, you waddled back to the couch, bringing your pillow with you so you could cuddle it like a plushie. 

You felt the couch dip a couple minutes later, a sensation that you ignored. Minho only let out a soft sigh, knowing that when you were angry, you were outrageously stubborn.

He reached out to you when the tension was just too much to bear. His fingers brushed your cheek, and you visibly flinched, jerking away from him. It was almost laughable how that simple movement from you hurt more than all the scathing words you spat at him. 

“Y/N, please…tell me what’s wrong,” he implored, and his hands not ceasing to try and bring you back to him, knowing that his words might only push you away. He tried his best to be as nonthreatening as he could, trailing his fingers delicately down your arm to settle at your waist. It was a foolproof tactic, one that would always bring you to melt into his embrace whenever you were stressed.

But this time, it didn’t have the same effect, because you shoved his prying hands away, “Y/N, come on,” he begged softly, trying again, his fingers gently tugging at the curve of your waist when you finally snap.

“Stop it!” you grabbed his hands, pushing them away with such vitriol that Minho wondered with horror if he’d really done something to you that was so unforgivable that you’d push him away like this.

“Stop what?” he asked, his eyes wide with desperation.

“Stop doing this!” you threw your hands up in frustration as you whirled on him, but all Minho could see was the tears pooling in your eyes. Did he do this to you?

“Stop touching me like that, stop looking at me like that, just--just why won’t you let me get over you in peace?!” your voice broke into a soft whimper, and Minho’s jaw went slack. 

Minho stared at you as you continued, hugging the pillow to your chest, “Stop running over in the rain to see me, stop giving me a reason to hold onto hope, and stop bringing up the stupid promise you’d made that caused me to fall so, so in love with you, my best friend.”

The tears rolled down your cheeks as you fell apart, burying your face in the pillow to muffle your cries. How embarrassing, to cry in front of your best friend and crush. The shame burned in your throat, and you shoved the tears down, trying your best to close the lid tightly. Pull yourself together, Y/N.

“Sorry,” you muttered, lifting your face up from the pillow and beginning to furiously wipe at your tears with your hand, “I’m sorry, that was really dumb, I--”

Your words are cut short as you feel the softest pair of lips against yours. Minho. Lee Minho, the love of your life, was kissing you like you would break if he kissed you to roughly, and the emotions you frantically tried to shove in a box reemerged with full force, bursting out in fireworks of euphoria and childlike giddiness. 

“Minho, w-what--” your words are slurred, almost incomprehensible against Minho’s intoxicatingly innocent kiss, pulling the feelings you were trying to bury straight out of your gut.

Nonetheless, Minho answered your confusion with his soft words, “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, his hand slipping to touch the back of your neck, “I’m so fucking sorry. I was such an idiot.”

“Wh-what?” you finally managed to pull away from him, your chest heaving as you look at him with wide eyes, “What do you mean?”

Minho shook his head, lowering his gaze before he shifts forward, burying his head in your chest as his hands grip your arms, “I like you, Y/N.”

You froze in his arms, your fingers which were busy carding through his damp hair as a way to soothe his apparent anxiety now stopping short, “What? B-but,” you stammered, “Yeji--you asked her to be your date--”

“It was a way to make you jealous,” Minho finally confessed, too ashamed to look you in the eye, “I told you that I would ask Yeji to prom to see how you’d react. When you only congratulated me, I thought--I thought it was an indicator that you truly didn’t remember the promise we’d made, so I continued with the ruse to see if you’d ever stop me.”

The icy walls around your heart began to chip away little by little, “Minho, why would I have stopped you from finding your happiness?” you asked him gently, “If you wanted to go with Yeji, I would never take that away from you, no matter how I feel.”

“But my happiness is with you, and I was so stupid to mess with it just because I got jealous,” Minho mumbled, his fingers trailing back down to play with your soft waist, “I’m sorry.” 

You sighed, shaking your head as you tilt Minho’s chin up, pressing your lips against his. The kiss meant many different things. It was a forgiveness to his apology, and a silent apology of your own. 

“I’m sorry for not being honest with you,” you murmured against his lips, and Minho let out the softest sigh of relief as he literally melted into your arms, pulling you closer until you were practically on his lap. 

When your sorrows were both appeased, and Minho lay on top of you happily, his head on your chest as your fingers carded through his hair. 

“Y/N, dance with me.”

You let out a noise of surprise, “Right here?” 

“Yes, here,” Minho pushed himself up, hovering above you as he pecked your lips softly, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth and drawing out a whine from you. 

Who really gave a shit about prom? You certainly didn’t, especially when you were pressed against Minho’s chest as the two of you swayed happily to the music playing from your phone. 

#inkidz #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #skz reactions #stray kids x reader #skz x y/n #skz x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho scenarios #my fics