#still a little in love with all of my childhood friends

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Switching Teams - Lewis Hamilton

Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Toto bad mouthing Lewis during the time he was still in Mercedes had led to a bitter ending but now Lewis wears red but there's something in him that feels like he needs to do more than just beat his old team on track. He needs to take something that Toto loves more than anything work-related

Wolff!reader - age 23 (Lewis will be 40 with the timeline of this so a 17 year age gap 😮‍💨)

Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut, loss of virginity, coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks

Part 2 here

In general y/n had never been very much involved in the work side of Toto's life. In fact she wasn't involved in much at all. Toto had always kept her as sheltered and in the shadows as much as possible.

That's what made her such an easy target for Lewis.

He'd not actually met her till she turned 18 and Toto seemed to deem that an acceptable age for her to finally debut into the world. Other than that she'd only briefly been spotted when Toto was home but he didn't even post the young woman.

At one point there was even accusations that he was trying to abandon and disown the young woman. Which is not true, her own mother left her and Toto has been raising her since before Susie came along.

Despite now being in her 20s and very much flirted with by many of the younger drivers. Y/n remains as innocent as someone who was homeschooled and not exposed to the world in such a way.

To Lewis' knowledge she always has a bodyguard after a kidnapping threat when she was younger and the world seemed to learn of Toto's riches, she's not really got any friends because of her homeschooling, she didn't leave the house much because of it and now she just sort of shops, has private workouts with a trainer and then on occasion attends races.

To Lewis' knowledge she's never had alcohol, she's never had a boyfriend and she's very much an innocent little angel who probably doesn't even know what trouble is never mind how to cause it.

When Lewis saw her this morning, she was actually just sitting on her own in the paddock. Initially he wasn't even going to say hi, but then an idea that would maybe finally settle the bitter anger he has towards Toto appeared. It's possibly best described as evil and Lewis definitely knows it's wrong, but there's no way the idea is that bad.

"Y/n, hello." Lewis greets with a smiles.

"Lewis." Y/n beams pushing her headphones down around her neck and greeting him with an excited hug. "I didn't know if you were allowed to talk to me."

"You're not really part of Mercedes. You're just associated with them." Lewis states earning a hum before she sighs and steps back from him. "Are you out here on your own?"

"Oh...yeah, well my dad told me I need to just stay out the way and I'm not allowed anywhere else-but I was going to go walk around the track."

"If you wait for me. I'll come with you. I won't be long." Lewis states figuring there's no point in second guessing it. "If you'll let me?"

"Yeah, I mean...I've got nothing else to do." She shrugs actually looking pretty happy that anyone at all is giving her the time of day. "I'll just wait here."

"Ok, I'll be back."

This might be far easier than he expected.

-

Y/n is quite a talkative person, probably because of her social isolation and dad who did actually spend a lot of her childhood pushing her onto other people to take care of her, meaning she'll latch onto anyone who will give her the time of day.

So when Lewis invited her to dinner later in the day, of course she jumped at the invitation.

Perfectly as he planned there was some online attention to the shared photos of her and Lewis walking around the track together. He obviously can't be certain that Toto has seen it but he's certain that the Mercedes media team will have seen it.

Since y/n is in the same hotel as Lewis. He doesn't have to go far to knock on her door since he is going all out and "picking her up" for the dinner.

The restaurant isn't far so he figures getting her from her room would only help him in his plan.

"Hey, wow. You look...gorgeous."

"I feel like I'm overdressed." Y/n laughs nervously then swallowing. "But I didn't know what to wear."

"It's perfect. Don't stress." Lewis dismisses making her swallow and smile a little. “I think you look beautiful and you are definitely not overdressed.”

"Thank you." Y/n smiles before she picks up her bag then leaving her room. "I had my dad asking all about you, you know? I didn't realise how much things had changed between the two of you since you left."

"That was his doing more than mine." Lewis states making her look at him for a moment and nod a little. "But we don't need to talk about that."

Y/n seems to take the hint but doesn't let it dampen her good mood.

They head out and sitting down, Lewis makes sure to be the gentleman. He's going to charm this young woman and he's going to make sure that y/n never doubts his intentions.

He has maybe also purposely chosen a slightly more public spot to make them easily found and photographed. This is very much a moment he wants rub in Toto's face without having to even speak to the man directly.

"You know, I've really never noticed just how gorgeous you are."

Y/n's face flushes with a heavy blush but she doesn't really comment about it, instead taking the welcome opportunity of the waiter appearing asking if they're ready to order and what drinks they'd like.

Ordering their food and y/n seems to be getting more and more nervous.

"So how is life in Ferrari?" Y/n asks trying to make conversation that doesn't feel so tense, at least from her side.

"It's good, I'm happy there. Sometimes I miss Bono and other guys in the team, but it's nice being in a new team too."

"I'm glad to hear it. I mean it's good to see you doing well again...as much as it's a shame that Mercedes has fallen so much from grace. It's really important that you're happy."

"I think I'm definitely getting there." Lewis confirms then sighing. "Anyway, enough about F1 and me. I want to hear about you, what have you been doing?"

Y/n being the talkative little bug that she is, she tells him all about her day. Telling him all about how she is spending her time, which is predictably still very much under Toto's control and limited to not doing much really.

She seems to travel around a bit more with the team which is actually quite interesting given her lack of travel with the team until this season.

"You know we should spend more time together if you're here more often-and if your dad stops inviting you. I speak from experience in saying that Ferrari is very welcoming to everyone."

"Yeah?" Y/n laughs clearly assuming he's joking.

"I mean it, I think red would suit you too." Lewis smirks as y/n's dessert is placed down.

"Red?" Y/n chokes out in shock over the suggestion.

"You don't like red?"

"I...well I've never worn red."

No red is too promiscuous a colour for someone like y/n. Light colours like pink and powder blue, white and pale yellows all fit her much better. He's not even sure he's seen her wear a dark wash denim.

-

Pictures of Lewis and y/n were quick to spread and when y/n steps into the paddock on the Sunday, there's a lot of eyes trained on her. Watching her closely while she slows her steps.

She'd been in a pretty good mood but the attention really isn't something she's so used to.

"Y/n, can we have a talk?" Toto asks seemingly calm, collected and casual as he spots his slightly distressed daughter stepping towards the unit.

Y/n finds herself guided to his office and almost feels like she'd got in trouble once with her private tutor.

"You went for dinner with Lewis last night?" Toto questions making her look at her dad for a couple beats almost not sure if he's asking or if it's a statement instead.

"Yeah, he wanted to spend some time together and I couldn't say no." Y/n smiles lightly since she actually had a really good time with Lewis and he's offered to do more things together which she's already accepted with an open invitation of saying she'd be up for anything.

"That's good." Toto smiles since he can never really be mad at y/n. She's actually too happy and sweet of a person to be mad at, but he certainly will be warning Lewis to keep away from his daughter. "I was going to ask if you want to be in the garage watching the race with Mick and I today?"

"Ok." Y/n nods since she's never got such an opportunity.

"Good." Toto smiles brightly then patting her shoulder.

-

Y/n actually really enjoyed getting to be a bit more involved with standing and watching the team. Mick even made the effort to speak to her and very kindly explained anything that seemed to confuse her.

"Lewis." Toto calls as he walks up to the Ferrari driver. "What do you think you're doing with y/n?"

"She didn't have plans last night and I thought she could use the company." Lewis smirks then raising an eyebrow. "Problem?"

"You've never seemed interested in y/n before."

"You seemed to always keep her away from then team when I was there." Lewis shrugs before smirking as he looks around Toto. "Speak of the devil."

Toto turns to find y/n walking towards them.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" Toto questions with a smile.

"Lewis offered to give me a ride after the race." Y/n smiles making Toto look at Lewis who has an expression which is just challenging the Mercedes boss to say something. "Is that ok?"

"Of course it is, right Toto?" Lewis smirks earring Toto's attention again. "You can trust me to get y/n home safely."

"Right." Y/n confirms then moving to Toto and lifting to her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you at the next race, dad."

-

Y/n yawns as she rubs her face and shuffles towards her hotel room door, her lazy eyes falling on the F1 champion stood waiting for her at her door.

"Hey-Oh did I wake you up?" Lewis laughs since they had agreed to travel back to Monaco together. He's talked her into spending a few days there with him and since she has no other plans and he's got plans only for her.

"No. No. I'm just...tired. Gimme a second, I was just packing up the last of my stuff." Y/n smiles tiredly then shuffling off while Lewis steps into her room.

Y/n is wearing light grey matching set of joggers and a hoodie, pretty oversized and sort of swallowing her alive as she seems to pack up the last bits.

"Ok. Let's go."

They get to the airport and on the flight y/n is sleeping all peaceful and actually spends some of the flight with her face squished into Lewis' bicep.

Even he thinks to himself that she's just adorable.

So innocent and sweet.

But all he wants to do is ruin that. He wants to be the one to take the sweet girl from Toto and ruin every innocent fibre of her soul.

-

When they arrive in Monaco, he decides the innocent game is over and he's going to make it clear what he wants to do to her. He'd been thinking about it the whole flight there and then the ride to his apartment and now he's certain he might set on fire if he doesn't see more of her at the very least.

It had dawned on him thinking about what might be under that oversized sweats set, she is never in clothes that give away much of what her body looks like.

A modest dresser if there ever was one.

"Your apartment is...amazing." Y/n sighs softly earning a hum.

"Thanks, it is home away from." Lewis smiles while he walks up to her and slides his hands underneath her hoodie. Soft skin as he feels her almost tense up at the feeling of his touch on such unfamiliar territory. "It's a bit warm for so many layers."

"It...It is a bit." Y/n mumbles before finding herself very much exposed in a matter of seconds.

"I've got so many plans for you..." Lewis groans while her face burns in a flush, too flustered to find her voice.

Lewis is a patient man in his opinion, but y/n is bringing out a very impatient side.

"Lewis, I've never-I've never had sex." Y/n finally chokes out and while Lewis had somewhat predicted that to be the case.

Now while virginity isn't necessarily of much interest to Lewis, the idea of being the one to take it when he knows Toto has spent y/n's life sheltering her and seeming to keep her from any threat of a man who would touch her in a such a way. Intentionally or not, Toto made her an appeal to his former driver.

"You can trust me." to rob you of that oh-so protected innocence.

He'll be gentle, he'll make it memorable and he'll make sure she's hooked on the feeling of him.

Y/n genuinely came here with this being the last thing she could've assumed to happen. She really didn't know that Lewis looked at her in such a way. But now it's happening, is she actually going to stop him?

She doesn't believe she would have the courage even if she wanted to.

How Lewis manages to get her completely naked and exposed, she's not even sure. But she knows that there's some feelings and flutters that she's never felt before and it's all from his touch.

Is she weak? Probably.

Is this wrong on every moral level that she's been raised to? Definitely.

Is she going to even attempt to stop him? Absolutely not.

"Can I touch you?" Lewis questions since he's not actually going to do anything that will be a step that can't be undone until he knows he's got consent.

"Yes."

"Can I do what I want?"

Hesitation, a thick swallow and shaky breath fill a pause.

"Yes."

And that's like a gun shot to start a race.

There's not an inch of y/n's body that he misses, hands everywhere, lips leave wet kisses as a path around her body. All leading to one place.

Predictably, there's a slick wetness already coating her pussy before he's even touched it.

"I want to hear you, so any sound you need to make. Don't hold back." Lewis states not missing the fact she can't bring herself to look down at him, and while he'd usually make a command for eye contact. Easing her into this is his best choice for not scaring her, after all this has all happened in a matter of minutes and maybe she wasn't quite prepared enough to handle this at such a speed.

But she said yes. Twice.

And while really he didn't need to see with his own eyes, the proof of her being untouched from anyone else before him. Seeing it really is something that makes him almost launch forward, needing a test and the sensation of his tongue licking over her hole up to her clit is enough to earn a moan that he almost wishes he had an audio clip of to replay forever.

Her moans, the taste and just the feeling of her almost trying to shy away from him when she feels herself getting close to orgasm.

"L-Lewis." Y/n stutters with panic laced within a moan as her voice wobbles unsure of what she's doing. "Lewis, I-"

"Don't fight it, it's going to feel so good. Just stop fighting it." Lewis instructs though he's sure she has no idea what he means exactly when he's saying that. Though he's certain she knows what an orgasm is, she's not quite that innocent but he thinks that may have been her first. As much as he could dream about the idea of her playing with herself till she cums, he doesn't think it's very realistic either.

"Lewis..." Y/n whines panting and seeming to follow his command when she arches up against him an almost breathless moan escaping her lips.

Describing her as looking angelic in the moment seems like an inappropriate choice of words given his position but she really does.

Y/n hardly gets to process what just happened when Lewis has moved up to kiss heron such a heavy way that she almost feels a second wave of her orgasm completely overcome with the feelings that Lewis is pulling from her.

"Y/n, this is going to hurt a little but I can't keep waiting." Lewis states making her frown a little but she actually squeaks at the feeling of his dick brushing against her.

He does do her the obvious kindness of going slow but the man is packing and while he tries to make sure he's hurting her a little as possible, there's really not that much he can do.

"Ah." Y/n gasps almost moving back when Lewis feels her hymen give and her expression contorting while Lewis is practically the most restraint he's ever managed in his life.

"It's ok." Lewis assures her while she looks up at him, big eyes definitely not entirely trusting of him.

Lewis keeps easing himself into her as far as he can go, which definitely isn't fully within her.

"Ok. You just tell me when to move." Lewis soothes making her swallow and nod.

"Move. Please." Y/n mumbles after a couple minutes of seeming to adjust and very much start to gush around Lewis' length and while he starts slow and very controlled movements, the self-restraint is proving harder and harder.

The initial resistance is finally gone after a few minutes of slow movements and he does finally lose the ability to control himself a little more.

Reaching to play with her clit as he gives some attention to her nipples. Both of which finally seem to settle her enough and be bringing so much pleasure that he can already feel her second orgasm building up.

He would usually try and push for a third. But honestly, he's surprised he's managed to last this long. He'd be lying if he said that she doesn't feel like another universe of amazing.

He's even forgot the whole reason he's doing this.

Y/n's eyes actually clamp closed as she locks down on him a hand gripping his bicep with a bruising grip but Lewis is far to focused on completely filling y/n as he manages to push himself fully into her. Spotting the bulge in her tummy from being literally stretched beyond capacity and the moan that passes her lips from the additional pressure, literally triggering a second wave of her orgasm.

Eventually she's calmed down and relaxed while Lewis sighs beginning to pull out.

"Ah." Y/n hisses feeling pretty damn raw since Lewis did sort of go rougher and harder than he maybe should've with her first time.

"You'll probably be a little sore." Lewis chuckles lightly while moving his hand down to pull at her lip. "Wait here I'll clean you up."

-

It took a couple hours for Lewis to realise, but it was only while y/n was curled up next to him on the sofa that he realised there's no way she's on birth control and the last thing he was thinking about was wearing a condom. As much as that should be something he things about.

"Fucking hell." Lewis curses grimacing as he slides out from under y/n gently placing her head down.

Now he's going to have to find a way to get a morning after pill in her without being caught getting hold of one.

Thankfully his assistant, Lola (idk his assistant so we're making it up) is in Monaco and he finds her available to pick one up but when she appears in his apartment, she raises an eyebrow at the sight of y/n Wolff lying still very much passed out on his sofa.

"Really? Toto's daughter?" Lola questions making Lewis frown.

"Any of your business?"

He's not usually bothered about such comments but on this occasion he's not happy.

-

By the time the next race comes around, Lewis and y/n have been spotted together nonstop. Lewis looking very much possessive and always seeming on the borderline of something not very PG.

They've also noted that y/n's wardrobe has taken a change from modest to very much more easily accessible for Lewis to touch her however he wants. Very rarely keeping his hands far from her arse.

Walking through the paddock there's several drivers who seem to be watching the two along with a lot of media and even a lot of fans.

"Y/n...are you with us for this weekend?" Charles asks as Lewis keeps a tight hold on her hand, she couldn't walk to Mercedes even if she tried.

"Yeah, she is my guest." Lewis confirms seeming to surprise the young woman before she smiles brightly.

"Welcome. Is there sort of pipeline from Merc to Ferrari I wasn't informed about?" Charles jokes earning an innocent shrug from the young woman while Lewis spots Toto walk with James through the paddock and he looks angry.

Lewis has pretty purposely been making sure y/n ignores any and all messages and calls from her dad. Always distracting her and teaching her something new in the bedroom, he actually thinks he's morphed her into almost an unrecognisable woman.

"Shall we go?" Lewis asks catching y/n's attention as he smoothes the short skirt she's wearing down over her butt.

-

Y/n was apparently not the priority for Toto when it came to speaking about the new relationship. But Lewis certainly was because Lewis found himself summoned to Toto's motorhome and he couldn't wipe the victorious smirk off his lips.

"Using my daughter to get to me is not nice. She's not invloved in this."

"Y/n's happy with me and I can promise that I'm taking very good care of her in every way...including ways you can't." Lewis shrugs then smirking. "Well not without committing some serious crimes."

Toto looks like he's about to explode when Lewis stands up completely unbothered.

"I have lunch with y/n, so unless there's something else you need. I should get back to her-you know I think that neglect of attention with her might've given her some daddy issues." Lewis smirks then moving to the door. "Don't worry though, I treat her very well and she enjoys everything I have to to offer her. Maybe you'll respect your daughter's boyfriend a bit more to the media now."

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #sir lewis hamilton #mercedes amg petronas #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton y/n #lh44 x you #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lh44 x y/n #lh44 one shot #lh44 smut #lh44 fanfic #lh44 fic #mercedes amg f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 2024 #f1 2025

[celestialtarot11]

What do people underestimate about you when they meet you? 👀💐 PAC reading ☀️

Hi friends 💐☀️ it’s been a minute since I have made a post on here, but I am back! What do people underestimate about you when they meet you? Let me know below if it resonates with you, feel free to comment like and reblog ⬇️☺️

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1’s!☀️🧘‍♀️💐 I feel like people underestimate your intelligence when they meet you. I feel you are the kind of person who observes a lot and doesn’t say much, until its necessary. A lot of people hate on the quiet kids but they’re the most dangerous because they know everything 😂 thats the vibe I’m getting. You’re quick witted, you’re quick with your comebacks and people don’t expect that. People expect you to be quiet, small minded and naive. But then they have a deep conversation with you and all of a sudden its like, “i was wrong to assume that of my pile 1, damn” and it hits them! What you say resonates because its like you get to the root of the matter and pull it out. Like weeds. You pull the truth out and say it. You guys have a powerful throat chakra and it’s something to be proud of! You don’t like illusions, lies and dishonesty. You prefer honesty, openness, and integrity! And lots of people aren’t able to match that so they end up feeling attacked, which was never your intention. Thank you pile 1’s for coming by 💗 I hope this resonated with you!

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2’s! Welcome to your reading 💐🧘‍♀️😻 People underestimate your resilience and bravery. I feel that some people see you as someone who is incapable of fighting, standing up or defending yourself. But you are the opposite! And people don’t expect that. They underestimate your ability to take on a challenge. Especially if you’ve been through a lot in your childhood, I’m feeling like family members perceived you as weak, gullible and naive. But you got up and healed and it took a lot of time, and you are still healing, but here you are setting boundaries and putting your foot down. This is something people do not expect. But then again im hearing “what did you expect? Did you expect me to really sit and take your bullshit?” On point!! You guys are quick, to the point, and do not hesitate in saying no or setting boundaries. For a long time you struggled with speaking up and it still may be a thing, which is understandable, and now you are healing enough to say no. People also may not expect you to be financially well off is something I’m getting. Your efficiency at saving money is something people don’t expect, or your savvy mindset when it comes to making 💰! People underestimate your resilience and your ability to take on a challenge. A true phenix from the ashes 💗 thank you pile 2’s for coming by! I hope this resonated. Please like comment and reblog for the support 💐☀️

Pile 3: Hi there pile 3! 💃🏻 This ones gonna be interesting 😂 in the best way possible! I feel that people underestimate your ability to leave. To say goodbye. To end situations and walk away. And move to a better place than you were before. People think you’ll stay in the mud, but you are the kind of person where if it gets uncomfortable you have no problem taking yourself out the pot. If the situation isn’t working, remove yourself from the equation is what im understanding 😂 love it! You guys don’t hesitate in moving to where you need to be and where your soul calls you, and right away you’ll know if someone is meant for you, or situation. People underestimate your ability to create abundance and move into prosperous places, but you manifest fast-and you move on to where you need to be with little to no issue. I feel like you guys know how to pack it up and make your decision, and the other person is shocked you thought about this without them. And your response is something of “I wasn’t aware I needed you in the first place to make this choice” 😂💗 I love it! You guys really know how you make an entrance and say goodbye 😻 thats the vibe im getting. People underestimate your presence in their life. The absence is felt when you’re really gone. Thank you pile 3’s! Please feel free to like comment and reblog to help this blog grow ☀️💐💃🏻

Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💐💗 it meant a lot to me! Your support is greatly appreciated. Enjoy the Aries full moon 🧘‍♀️

Paid Readings ⬇️💅🏻

#astrology community #devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #astro posts #astrology notes #astro notes #astro observations #tarotdaily #tarot readings #tarot readers #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot community #daily tarot #pick a pile #pick a card romance #pick a picture #pick a card

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you to the pavement like a linebacker.

You collided and flew onto the grass. Better than concrete but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Gold Rush (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Your whole life you have been Daemon’s voice of reason. Tonight, you choose to be the impulsive one. 

Warnings: Velaryon! Reader (And POC!) Friends to lovers. Fluff. Eloping. Tender, loving smut.

Requested: Uh, I don’t know for markers of arousal, but they are a mess. Sub Daemon and POC reader, as requested. I finished the bingo! Yay! 

You clutch the letter in your hand, a joyous smile slowly starting to spread on your face. Uncaring of the guards, or the people around you, you hike up your skirt and race to the courtyard, screaming with all your might. 

“Daemon!” You say, laughing. “Daemon, Daemon, come quickly.” The letter is still clutched in your hand. Your light blue slippers, matching your dress, are starting to get mud soaked; you have avoided the paths to get there faster. 

Your childhood friend is in the training yard, his armor glinting under the sunlight. For once, he is not wearing the full Targaryen regalia, but rather a simple chest plate. You find yourself a bit taken aback by how handsome he looks with the sun hitting him from behind, hair shining like polished silver. He reminds you of the statues of the Seven you have seen in the royal Sept, a halo around his head. 

Daemon sets Dark Sister down when noticing your arrival. He steps aside from his sparring partner, a knight from House Lannister, as if he were meaningless. The man shouts something, probably in indignation from the abandoned match, but Daemon only has eyes for you.

Standing on the steps near the courtyard, his full attention is a heady feeling. It nearly makes you sway. He manages to look even more handsome when a bit roughed up. 

“Is that…?” He asks, pointing at the parchment in your hand. You nod. 

“He said yes! My brother said yes!” You shout, laughing. Daemon runs towards you, even more mud soaked and sweaty than you are and hugs you to him, spinning you around. It only prompts you to laugh louder. 

“You wonderful, wonderful woman.” He says, peppering your face with kisses, uncaring of the stares from the rest of the knights scattered around. You squeal when he squeezes you to him a little too hard, only to laugh right after at his eagerness. 

At the noise, Ser Harold lifts his head, but when he realizes that it is Daemon and you once more, he only shakes his head in exasperation before returning to his guard duties. 

“And has the Queen..?” You ask Daemon, in a low voice. Sudden doubts make your heart clench. Convincing her of allowing Daemon to marry you had been hard, especially considering she had a match in the Vale already lined up for him. It had taken the two of you nearly a year, and you had only managed to soften her heart by reminding her and her brother husband were once a love match too. She had agreed only if your brother agreed to it too. 

And that had been another can of worms. You knew Corlys was ambitious and wanted to see his wife, Rhaenys, on the throne. Marrying Daemon was the utmost betrayal in his eyes, for it was clear your friend would side with his own brother if there was a succession issue. Thankfully, he had given you permission, swayed by the promise that you would keep Daemon and Caraxes out of it if the worst came to pass. 

Finally, Daemon and you could marry. You were holding the very proof of it in your hands. 

“She has. But still…” Daemon gently grasped your face, tilting your head up so he could look into your dark eyes. “We must not allow them to change their minds.” 

You looked up at him, chewing your lower lip. It was not the first time Daemon suggested eloping. Running away to Dragonstone to be wed in the traditions of your shared ancestors and damn to your families. You had never dared. Despite being oddly similar to the romance tale of the Queen and King, you doubted they would take kindly to it. 

“Corlys said…” You start, softly. You do not mind being the voice of reason. It is how it has always been. Ever since you were the little girl sent to foster under Queen Alysanne’s watchful eye. Your father had thought, back then, if you could claim the Cannibal, you surely needed a strong woman to teach you to be one. 

His plan had worked. Perhaps you had not learned much about being a proper Lady, that didn’t track mud into the halls or stab others with practice swords, but by the Gods you had learned strength.  Both of you had, under her. The thing was, Daemon always thought that strength meant charging right at problems while you thought it was better to watch and think first. 

“Give me that.” Daemon complains, taking the parchment from your hand. You yelp and try to take it back, but he raises it high over his head, where you cannot reach. You try regardless, holding his shoulders and jumping up and down in a quite undignified manner. 

Daemon watches you with a smirk, eyes lingering on the bodice of your dress. It is once you exhaust yourself that you notice he is leering at your breasts, and you give him a good shove for it. 

He laughs. He pulls you by the waist and places a kiss on your forehead. 

“You are a pig.” You complain, crossing your arms over your chest. It is not the first time you have caught him looking at you, but it is the first time it feels so intentional. Daemon and you have never crossed that line before. Sure, he has looked, and you have too, but it is only natural. You are the only girl he has been around in a consistent manner. The two of you have been partners in crime since you were children. 

Daemon has had his dalliances outside of you, of course. You know he is fond of brothels and Gods know what else. You do not mind it. This wish for a match between the two of you is not about physical attraction, but rather that if you had to pick one man to be bound with and him only one woman to belong to, both of you choose each other. It’s simple. 

You love him, of course you do. But then, how could you not? Everyone loves Daemon. He is just that charming. Maidens want to be with him, knights want to be him. He is a true dragon, the finest his House has to offer. 

And you are… You. A daughter of House Velaryon, a bit too wild, a bit too unladylike. Nothing to your name but your dragon. At least in that you take pride in. What a foe, your child was. 

“Only for you.” Daemon says, brushing a stray curl away from your face. He twists his finger in it, making it coil tighter before springing back up. 

“Sure.” You laugh, and Daemon gives your hair a harsh little tug, making you yelp.

“I am serious.” He warns, a bit threateningly. His grip on your hair is firm enough to force you to keep your attention on him.  His eyes are locked with yours. “From today on, you are mine. And I am yours. I won’t… I don’t want anyone in my bed that is not you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. It might as well be a declaration of undying love, coming from Daemon. He is not one for monogamy, your friend. That he is now saying he wants you and only you means… It means everything. 

“But you have never touched me.” You say to him, confused. 

“Of course not, you silly thing.” Daemon shakes his head. “My father would have strangled me.” 

You fight the urge to laugh. Baelon Targaryen had never been too fond of Daemon not being a proper Prince. Unfortunately, he was often so busy with his duties he had little chance of teaching either of you manners. 

No, instead, the older Prince was much more decisive. Every time he caught Daemon with one of the maids, he got rid of them and paid them a pretty sum to forget the incidents ever happened.

“They would have sent me back.” You realize, voice barely above a whisper. If he had ever caught a whiff of impropriety between the two of you, Prince Baelon would have sent you back to Driftmark so fast you would have gotten whiplash. 

“Yes. They would.” Daemon agrees, softly. His grip on your curls soften. Instead, he starts scratching at your scalp, as if to soothe the hurt. “And I didn’t… You are good. I wouldn’t have brought you dishonor.” 

The admission embarrasses him. Daemon wants everyone to think he isn't concerned with that sort of thing. It is his armor. Being the Rogue Prince, the one who makes the unexpected move, the one who doesn’t care about consequences. But he does. When it is someone he loves on the line, Daemon does. 

He loves you. You love him. Why do you have to wait a full moon for Corlys to get here? He is not the one getting married. You don’t need a fancy gown, nor do you need to be wed in a Sept, under a religion that is not yours. 

You look up at Daemon, a mischievous smile starting to form on your face. He looks at you. Not a word is needed. Daemon knows what you are thinking right away. 

His brows pinch together.

“Are you sure?” 

“Daemon.” You say, exasperated. Who does he think he is speaking to? You had not claimed the most dangerous dragon in Westeros because you lacked boldness. 

“Tonight?” Daemon searches your eyes. He finds no hesitation.  

“In the traditions of our houses.” You agree. 

“You understand that if we…” Of course you know. The bedding. Being married usually implies that. The thought fills you with dread and excitement in equal parts. You have been trying very hard not to think of Daemon in this way since the two of you were teenagers. But now, it is not only expected, but encouraged. 

“I know.” 

His hand on your waist tenses. You can feel his grip tighten, greedily. There is so much want in his eyes that it warms your blood. 

“Alright, Lady Confident.” Daemon teases, pressing another kiss to your forehead before letting you go. 

“The dragonpit, tonight. Get us the robes and Viserys.” You point at him, sternly. 

“And what will you get?” He pulls you in again, pressing your bodies flush against each other. You tremble against him, unable to help it. Daemon has such a magnetic pull on you, sometimes you feel like the two of you are never truly apart. He is constantly pulling you to him, into him, even when not in the room. He owns your thoughts, your feelings, your desires. 

But you are not about to tell him that. You like running too much, and by the Seven he likes to chase. 

“Is my presence not enough?” You tease, deftly slipping out of his grip. You start to walk away, hips swaying. Before you are truly out of his reach, you casually speak, as if it were the most normal thing to say. “My riding gear. I intend to ride a dragon tonight.” 

Daemon grabs your wrist, pupils blown. He stops you from leaving. 

“A dragon?”

“My dragon.” You snicker. “I suppose, while we are busy with that, Caraxes and my Cannibal can get to know each other.” 

His joyous laughter chases you all the way to your chambers. You spend the afternoon getting yourself ready. You bathe, soaking in the hot tub until you feel dizzy from the heat. Choosing to elope has made you unable to seek any advice from the only female presence in your life. You doubt Queen Alyssane will take well to the news of what Daemon and you are planning to do. 

Nerves clench in your stomach at the thought of bedding him. It is needed, if you wish to really be wed in the manner of your ancestors, and it has to happen tonight. Otherwise, the tradition would not be complete. 

Having grown around Daemon, you are not fully innocent. Not only have you listened to his exploits, but you also know your body well. What worries you is the fact that he has a lot of experience on you. 

You scrub yourself clean and get up, taking out your secret stash. Pearls are one of Driftmark more prized exports, and you have quite a few. Some have been ground into a fine powder that you apply over your eyelids. You like how the shimmery white contrasts against your brown eyelids, drawing attention to your eyes. 

Some women, especially near Dorne, use black pigment to make their eyelashes look fuller. You have always enjoyed the contrasts more. Velaryons have striking coloring, or so most say. The shimmery silver hair all Valyrians share, with darker skin to offset it and make it pop even more. It’s the same logic you apply to your makeup. 

Once you have scrubbed yourself to your satisfaction, you fret over choosing a shift to wear under the robes. Daemon has sent them to your chambers already, wrapped in a cloth as to not let anyone see what they are. You note that he has selected ones with a red sash, and you frown. You will no longer be a Velaryon after tonight, but you intend to honor your House. 

Perhaps the followers of the Faith of the Seven have the right of it, with the exchange of cloaks. With no Corlys to attend your wedding, you feel oddly adrift. You exchange the red sash for a light blue one. 

Finally, with no other excuse to stall, you put on your black cloak and make your way to the dragon pit. The dragonkeepers barely spare you a glance, used as they are to your antics. 

Caraxes has been brought forth, as has Balerion. Their growls and cries greet you as you step into the lower part of the pit. Your own mount is near, but kept carefully separated. He has an unfortunate tendency of biting other dragons. 

“This is an awful idea.” It is the first thing Viserys says to you, once he sees you approach. “The two of you will kill our grandmother one of these days.” 

“Good evening, Viserys.” You say, taking off your cloak. “Why, thank you for congratulating us.” 

“Thank the gods.” You hear Daemon’s voice before you see him. You turn, finding him dressed in his own set of robes. You had not doubted him for a second. “I thought you were playing a cruel joke on me. That you were… Oh.” 

He finally sees you, dressed in your version of the ceremonial robes. He freezes. 

“You look beautiful.” Daemon says, still a bit stunned. The images of him superpose in your mind. The boy he had been, the man he is now, lips stretching into the most joyful smile you have ever seen. It makes something warm and syrupy sweet nestle inside your chest, covering you in a golden glow.  So of course, he has to be a bit crude. “And all of it mine by the end of the night.” 

Viserys sighs. He looks very put upon, your recently appointed officiant. You decide not to make him wait any longer. Daemon and you marry under the traditions of your Houses that night, with only Viserys and your dragons as your witnesses. 

After the deed is done, palms and lips bloody, you race each other to Daemon’s chambers. The few servants left behind turn to stare, and as you pass, chamber’s doors open. Everyone wants a look at the two troublemakers that are making a ruckus near midnight. Gasps and scandalized murmurs are heard as the onlookers take in your appearance. The runes are painted brightly on your foreheads for all to see if your attires were not damning enough. 

You are sure the news will reach the Queen before the night is over. But as you stop in front of Daemon’s door, you can’t bring yourself to care. He lifts you up into his arms and opens the door with a well-placed kick. 

“Finally.” He says, carefully placing you inside. You laugh. Daemon busies himself with closing the door after the two of you, and it is then that you realize. 

You are married. To Daemon. Your best friend. Your childhood companion. Daemon, rider of Caraxes, the Rogue Prince, Daemon. Fuck. 

Daemon seems to be going through a similar thought process because when he turns to face you, his face is frozen into stunned realization. Now what? His eyes seem to be saying to you. So you step closer. And closer. 

And then his hands are on your waist, and he is kissing you for the first time. 

It’s devastating. There is no other way to describe it. You have been looking at Daemon ever since the two of you met, unable to look away from him, and you finally have his full attention on you. It’s terrifying. His lips move with yours, soft and tender, as if you are something to be treasured. No one knows you as he does, no one could break you as easily as he could. 

You grasp at him like he is your lifeline, hands clinging to his shoulders. There is no finesse in the way you undress him, greedy hands grasping at his robes. Daemon allows you to do so, his hands on your hips steady and calm. It is not until the robes have fallen from his shoulders, exposing his bare skin, that the two of you separate. 

“What do you need?” Daemon asks you, voice low. You look up at him, hoping to see the same desperation you feel reflected in his eyes. What you see takes your breath away. Daemon’s eyes are almost all pupils, the black having swallowed the purple you so love. His lips are swollen from your kisses, mouth slightly agape. “I’m here.” He says, and it sounds wrecked. “I am here.” 

The softness makes you want to cry. You feel overwhelmed with how badly you would like to be close to him. 

“I want… I need…” You articulate, barely. You try to take off your robes, but your hands, so deft at removing his, are slow and stupid when it comes to removing the knots. 

“Let me.” Daemon unties the knots, taking your robes away. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you close. “You are gorgeous.” 

His hands are warm against your ribs, caressing softly. He traces the curves of your waist and hips as if committing them to memory. You do not feel exposed or embarrassed, with Daemon touching you like this. You have belonged to him, heart and soul, since before you knew what the word meant. It’s only right that it is him who you give yourself to. 

Daemon kisses you again, slow and soft. His lips trace your jaw, and then, the shell of your ear. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. 

“I seem to remember you saying something about dragon riding.” He whispers, and you can hear the devious smile he must be sporting in his tone alone. 

Because you are mean, and so much like him, you bite at his naked shoulder. You expect him to yelp or curse, but are fully unprepared for hearing Daemon moan. 

The both of you look at each other, before a giant grin takes over your face. 

“You like that.” You smirk. Daemon’s brows raise.

“So what if I do?” He challenges, with a smirk of his own. You run your nails down his sides, almost experimentally. His eyes almost cross, expression morphing into half pain and half pleasure.  “Seven Hells, you are not allowed to do that!” He complains, and you laugh. 

“I do intend to ride, you know?” You whisper to him, not a hint of shame on your face. 

“Good.” Daemon goes sit on the bed and takes off his breeches. He parts his legs, letting you see his cock for the first time. “Princess, come sit on your throne.” 

You shiver slightly, feeling arousal quickly taking over your best senses. His cock is pink and almost angry looking, perfectly placed for you to sit on his lap and sink on it. You want nothing more than to have him inside you. 

“No.” You say, instead. “Get me ready first.” 

“Come here, then.” He orders, impatiently. “Let me touch you.” 

“You have no manners.” You complain, a bit irked. Daemon has the bad habit of issuing commands, instead of asking. Ever since he was a child, the people around him have yielded to his position or his charm, even to his good looks. Daemon always gets what he wants. 

And you don’t want him to think it includes you. Being taken down a few pegs is healthy, once in a while. So you remain rooted to your spot, naked and confident in your own skin. You start to run your hands along your neck and breasts, tantalizingly. You can feel yourself starting to get wet. 

His eyes track your movements in the same way a man dying of thirst might look at running water. Hungrily, greedily. 

“And you intend to be the one who teaches them to me?” Daemon’s voice comes out much breathier than he probably expects. 

“It is never late to start.” You agree, mischief making your eyes light up. One of your hands pinches your soft buds, getting them hard and alluring. Your breath is heavier, soft little sighs leaving your lips at the stimulation. 

“Fucking… Come here.” Daemon says. You ignore him, running your hands over your breasts. “Please.” He adds, a bit desperate.

You smirk. You take exactly one step towards him. The way he looks at you makes you feel bolder. Your stance widens, one hand dropping between your legs, teasing. 

“Please. Please, by the Gods let me touch you.” He interrupts, before you can do anything more. “Come here, just… I’ll behave.” 

You run your hands over your sides and wait a bit, as if pondering his question. 

“Please.” Daemon repeats. He looks wrecked and you haven’t even touched him. You wonder if this is what he likes about sex, how powerful and in control you can feel knowing that you have another person wrapped around your little finger. 

“I suppose I’ll allow you to get me ready.” You say, very graciously. You make your way to his lap and pull him in for another kiss. 

As soon as your hips are over his, Daemon tries to cheat. He lifts his own hips, trying to grind his erection against your core. You pull at his hair, in warning. He growls against your mouth, and insists on attempting to grind against you. 

You pull back from him, bracing your hands on his knees. Almost on instinct, one of his hands goes to your waist, to steady you. 

“Was that what I asked you to do?” You ask him, frowning. Daemon pouts. 

“I was getting you ready. You are so wet and warm, I bet I could just slide right in.” He complains, much like a scolded child. 

“Really? Then you must not know what getting a woman ready means.” You grin. “Allow me to teach you. Sit back and watch.” 

Daemon growls at you, face slowly starting to flush. You are not sure if he is more enraged or aroused by what he is seeing.  

“You can’t be serious. My balls are turning blue from…” 

“Not my problem.” You answer him, cheerfully. You remain sitting on his lap. The hand he keeps on your waist allows you to not need to support yourself so much. You free one of your hands and direct it to your pearl, where you rub slow, steady circles. 

Under the candlelight, your cunt glistens. You wonder what you must look like to Daemon, wantonly touching yourself on his lap. By the awed look on his face, it must be quite the sight. 

“Do you..?” He licks his lips, throat suddenly dry. “Do you need my help?” 

“Yes. Put a finger inside.” You spread your folds, feeling how slick you are. Daemon groans. 

“Fuck. That’s…” He presses his finger into your hole, slowly. It sinks right in. You sigh, please. Fascinated, Daemon pulls it back a bit, only to push it back inside and feel your walls swallow it. 

“Another. Open me up.” You say, voice a bit shaky. “Curl… Ah. Like that.” No other order is needed. Daemon adds another finger and curls it, a bit mean. It makes you sit up straighter, hands clutching at his shoulders. For a while, nothing exists, except his fingers moving inside you. Want is making you burn up, sweat collecting in the small of your back. You rock your hips against his hand, looking him right in the eyes. 

Daemon’s expression is open in a way you have never seen before. He looks entranced by you, as if he is in the middle of a religious experience. His eyes are fixed on your face, watching your mouth form soft little pants. His other hand is on your hips, aiding your movements. 

“I love you.” He says, sounding a bit broken, a bit in awe. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You press a kiss to his temple. “Ready?” 

Daemon nods, hiding his face on your chest. You grab his erection and line it up with your hole. He hugs you, tighter still, and it’s then that you sink on him. 

You curse, eyes going wide. Daemon lets out a groan. 

“Daemon.” You say, urgently. You feel like he is carving out a space for himself inside of you, as if he had not owned it already. “Daemon.” 

“I know.” He whispers back, rubbing slow circles on your back. He lifts his head and cradles your face, as if you are made of the most fragile porcelain. “My lady wife.”

“My lord husband.” You answer, equally tender. And it is then that you lift your hips and bring them down again. Daemon gives a punched out moan, hands tightening on your hips. 

You push him down to lay flat on the bed, bracing your hands on his chest to get better leverage. You lift yourself, up and down, until you have worked yourself into a frenzy and cannot stop moaning. 

Under you, Daemon has his eyes closed. His mouth is parted open, and he gives soft moans every time you bring yourself down. His hands are curled around your wrists, gently holding you to him. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough, it feels like you cannot breathe if you are not near him. You need to be as close as you possibly can, and you need it now. 

You lay yourself down on top of him, until your breasts are squished against his chest. Daemon’s eyes open. He hugs you to him, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Thrust your hips.” You say, starting to lavish his throat with kisses. “I need…” You grind your hips against him, his pubic hair rubbing against your pearl just right. With the way you are laying on top of him, Daemon can’t get enough leverage to do anything more than shallowly thrust. You nearly cry from frustration.

“Shh… Just…” He rolls the two of you over, ungracefully. He grinds his hips against yours, with little to no technique. His back is hunched, hair in complete disarray. The blood - drawn runes on his face have smeared, leaving only red lines in their wake. You wonder if you look as fucked out as Daemon does. The thought makes you clench around him, pleasure building up, and up, until one well aimed thrust makes you scream and reach your peak. 

Daemon collapses next to you, his release painting your thighs. There is silence, for a while. Both of you look at each other, sated and exhausted by the day you have had. And suddenly, there is a pounding on the door. 

“I swear to the Seven, Daemon Targaryen, when I get my hands on you…” The Queen screams, and you dissolve into a fit of giggles. 

#daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x poc reader #prince daemon x you #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen smut #daemon smut #cristi's bingo #daemon x y/n #daemon x oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen fic #prince daemon targaryen #daemon fanfic #daemon fluff #daemon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd daemon #hotd fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #asoif/got

[prongsiepotter]

sunbathing by the black lake | j. potter

summary: your childhood best friend james is being a little shit but in an endearing sort of way while showing his little acts of love

pairing: james potter x childhood bsf!reader

a/n: my first time writing on this blog!! i have a childhood friends to lovers playlist on spotify if anyone wants to listen to it bc i have a feeling it’s all i’ll write abt lol would really appreciate some feedback! enjoy x

──────── ❂ ‧₊°

There's no way to explain how the energy shifts when James is around. It simply does. Just like how you can feel the sun beating down on you right now. Hence, you can sense his approach without as much as a glance at him, your gaze continuing to drift across the notes Remus left for you in the margins of your essay.

James knows that, of course, as he strides across the grass towards you. You have never really talked about it, but seeing how he can also just tell when you're about to enter a room he's in, you both have made it a habit to not announce your presence. There's just no need.

So when he plops down next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder like it's his birthright, neither of you is surprised. In fact, it’s just right. Like puzzles slotting in perfectly.

For a few minutes, the world consists of birds chirping, a warm breeze, and the distant laughter of a group of Hufflepuff girls sitting a few paces away. You flip the page and let out a huff of laughter. James chuckles, his voice low and right next to your ear as he says, "Wouldn't be Moony if everything he touches didn't have a chocolate stain on it."

"It's like he's marking his territory." You try to rub it off with your sleeve, but the smudge only gets bigger. You squint and hold the paper in front of you, trying to discern if it's that noticeable (it is) but with a shrug you decide you couldn't care less. The movement makes James' glasses slide down to the tip of his nose, and he leans forward to make a dramatic face at you as if you had done him deeply wrong. With a playful eye-roll, you push them back for him and get a signature James Potter smile in return.

"Cheers, love." He beams at you and retrieves a balled-up napkin from the inside of his robe before taking it off. You watch him roll up the sleeves of his white Oxford shirt to his elbows, placing the mystery napkin on your lap. You glance at it curiously. "Unwrap it," he says. "It's for you."

Doing as you're told, you perk up with excitement when the content reveals itself. "Effie sent them?" You hold up the mangled piece of apple crumble like it's the most sacred thing you have ever gotten to hold, which it is. James nods, smiling at your happy dance. "I love her apple crumbles. Thank you!"

"You love everything my mum bakes," he says while lying down on his side, right in front of you with his head propped up on his palm. There's a glimmer in his amber eyes.

You give him a pointed look.

"Because everything that lovely woman bakes is the most scrumptious and amazing thing to exist." You take a big bite from the apple crumble to prove your point and your eyes flutter close as you hum. "This is why we're friends, Potter," you say with a mouthful. "No other reason. This is it."

"Oh yeah?" You hear the amusement in the drawl of his voice. Then he cups the side of your face and you look down at him as he distractedly brushes off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. He looks up at the sky. "That's a shame because this is the last time you will get anything my mum has baked."

James' gaze is still turned upward, giving the sky his utmost interest as if to check if it's still blue. You stare at him in bewilderment. "Are you insane? Why would you deprive me of Effie's food?"

"I wonder how the weather will be tomorrow," he responds flippantly, and you swear your eye twitches.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you say, narrowing your eyes at him. "I forgot you were satan's spawn."

James does not react. You don’t think he will even reply with the way how he’s squinting and examining the very much non-existent clouds in the clear sky. But then he looks at you like you had asked him to solemnly share his meteorology findings with you, and with undeserved earnestness he tells you, "I think tomorrow will be just as sunny as today."

You blink at him. Then give a long-suffering sigh. "I thought you cared about me."

"I do," James says, rolling over to lay on his back with his eyes closed. "Which is why I can't have you lose your mind over some flour and sugar. I'm doing us a favour. Preserving our friendship." He cracks an eye open to look at you. "We've been friends since diapers, not because of my mum’s food, but because I'm brilliant and extremely lovable. Get your facts straight, woman."

You toss the napkin at his face.

He laughs.

Glancing at the last piece of the apple crumble in your hand, you ask, "Do you want it?"

James shakes his head, looking fond. "You assault me and then offer me the last bite?"

"Force of habit," you say flatly. "I can take it back."

He chuckles and takes off his glasses, resting his arm over his eyes. "You can have it, love. Cheers."

You don't have to be told twice and pop it happily in your mouth. With his other arm, he sweeps the scattered pages aside and pats the spot next to him. "Sleep with me?"

You quirk a brow. "Trying to get into my knickers, Potter?"

A breathy laughter escapes his lips. "Are you offering?"

"You wish."

"Merlin, yes." He sighs dramatically as if all James Potter has known in this lifetime was the pain of longing. He grabs blindly for you and pulls lightly at the hem of your skirt. "A man can dream. But for now just nap with me, yea?"

You bat at his wrist but let him pull you towards him nonetheless. There was never any other option, really.

In the blink of a moment, you're nestled into James’ side. His arm is cushioning your head, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as he tells you his thoughts on a book he recently read because he knew you liked it. You listen intensely, enjoying the easy conversation and the sunlight warming your skin. The world feels peaceful, and it doesn't take long before sleep pulls you both into a cosy slumber.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders #marauders imagine #the marauders

[salbei-141]

My girl (Wanda x reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

warnings: 18+, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, trauma, death, love confession, etc.

a/n: woah, first post of the year...almost 5 months into the year...wbk a schedule doesn't exist here.

So, there were a few things that made me realise I was bi and Elizabeth Olsen was one of them - can you blame me? So I propose this!

Also, y'all please if I get any lore incorrect do not come for me, I haven't watched Marvel in a while, and nor can I be bothered to rewatch them either, SUE ME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Wanda were best friends and had grown up together in Sokovia - your home country destroyed by the supposed American hero Tony Stark himself. You remember it as clear as day - being huddled between Wanda and Pietro. None of you moved, still as day, and terrified - it was a kind of fear you'd hope you'd never have to experience again. You remember the cries of Wanda as you held onto each other - you were just children at the time, it was a diabolical event to be forced to endure.

To this day you were unsure of what happened to your parents - you could only assume the same had happened to them as had happened to the Maximoff's parents, but you couldn't say for definite, and it weirdly gave you some sort of peace not knowing the brutality of how they had died - although you'd hoped it was quick and succinct in nature.

You were all in your 20s now, and yet not a year had gone by since that day where you'd forgotten the trauma of it all - it weighed upon your shoulders day in and day out like a parasite. What followed the bombing wasn't any better…you were mutants - or at least that's how some people had described you. You felt stronger now though - it felt freeing almost, there was little to fear now. However, nothing could save you from the memories…you, Wanda and Pietro still fell victim to your childhood trauma - especially Wanda.

"Wanda?" you walked into her room tentatively after hearing the soft sounds of her cries - it tore your heart into two, knowing the pain she was in, and more so that she was enduring it alone was hurting you in an indescribable manner that you always felt upon seeing her in any severity of distress.

She was led on her bed curled up like a child clutching onto a teddy you'd got for her Christmas several years ago - it warmed your heart that she still held it so closely and for comfort. You watched as her head turned slightly - her eyes were red and slightly puffy, but she said nothing to you as you stood at the door.

You closed her door silently and moved towards her tentatively as you sat on the side of her bed staring down at her with soft eyes. Moving your hand, you gently carded your fingers through her auburn locks, watching as tears silently rolled down her reddened cheeks.

You remained sat at the edge of her bed, and gently beckoned her into your arms, "Come here, I got you". Instead, she pulled you further onto her bed, so the both of you could get comfortable before she then sunk into the comfort of your arms as she continued to cry into your chest. You moved slightly to adjust to a more comfortable position with her in your arms, and felt as her grip tightened, "I'm not going anywhere…I'll never leave you Wanda". She looked up at you with desperate eyes, "Never?". "Never", you confirmed and kissed her on the forehead as you pulled her against your chest again, holding her with a conviction that you'd only ever designate to her.

You don't know how long had gone by, but Wanda still lay in your arms, having calmed down now. You had been gently running your fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, feeling as she'd occasionally shiver from your touch.

"Y/N?"

She looked up from your chest with those round, soft eyes that made you cave to her every request.

"Hm?"

You looked back down meeting her gaze, watching as she searched your eyes.

"Thank you."

Tucking a strand of her hair that had fallen across her face back behind her ear, you smiled softly, speaking in a whisper almost, "I'd do anything for you".

"I know", and she stared at you just adoringly as you had been staring at her - neither of you quite aware of the emotions that had transgressed the platonic relationship you both maintained - fearful of losing one another over the looming prospect of an unrequited love. How naive you both were.

You let your hand linger on the side of her face - never having drawn back once her hair had been tucked. Your fingers delicately caressed her cheek - feeling the way it warmed under your touch.

You watched intently as her eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. Should you? You didn't know, scared to ruin things and lose your best friend, but she was also the woman you'd grown to love - she was more than your friend, and she knew that too - you'd both been yearning for this for years – too naïve to notice one another’s loving gazes.

"please", her voice was quiet, meek almost, but you could hear the plead in her voice.

Her eyes looked into your own – begging for your attention, and that's when you'd had enough, you leaned forward – teasingly stopping just before her lips.

“Promise me…promise me we won’t go back to just friends after this…please Wanda”, you searched her eyes for any doubt, and you couldn’t identify anything – her pupils were dilated as she stared into your eyes.

Wanda closed the gap between the both of you, catching you off guard while you’d awaited an answer, but this was the best way she could’ve answered you. Her lips were soft and you were quick to respond to her. You could still taste the remnants of salt from her tears, which had been long forgotten as the both of you were entrenched in one another.

It was euphoric - the way her lips moved along with yours - it was better than any dream you'd ever had about her; the days you’d deafly listen to her as she’d speak in front of you, only for you to have been too busy watching the way her lips moved as she spoke, before turning into a grin as she’d realise you’d been in a word of your own.

You let your hand drift from her face down her arm – feeling the way her skin goose-bumped as your supple touch passed over the exposed skin of her arm until you rested it on her waist as she kept herself steady with her hands wrapped in your shirt.

A soft moan reverberated in her throat as you lightly gripped her waist more – a smirk plastering your face as you continued kissing her.

The both of you slowly pulled away fluttering yours open. Nothing was said as you both smiled at each other before falling into a fit of giggles as she buried her face in your chest and you in the nape of her neck.

“We’re idiots”, she mumbled against you, as she gently lifted her face to meet yours again – both laying against her pillows with little space separating you.

“I love you”, you couldn’t hold it in any longer as it blurted out of you. She knew you meant it – you’d never looked so serious about anything as you did now.

She leaned forward pressing her lips to yours again, “I love you too…I love you so much Y/N”.

You both stared into each other’s eyes – soft gazes lingering as you gently stroked her waist with your thumb.

“Now you can really never leave me”, she smiled at you – referencing your earlier comment back to you.

“I never planned on it anyway”, you pressed a kiss to her forehead, bringing her close to your chest as her arms wrapped around you. "My girl", you whispered into her ear hearing her hum in content as you proceeded to lay in each other’s hold in silence with the occasional kiss – the reality a surreal eutopia that you’d both thought unlikely.

#fem reader #wlw #fluff #fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #avengers #mcu #lesbian #bisexual #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x y/n #wanda x y/n #wanda x fem!reader

[hongthoven]

Okay, hi my love <3

I can´t stop thinking about Yuyu and Mingi and my brain is like, CRAVING for fluff. Just cuddling or going on a walk and all that stinking cute, tooth rottingly cute fluff. imagine the reader beind shorter and them just being her protectors and best friends or boyfriends and them just showing her how important she is for them!

I´m alreay tearing up at the thought of them (or any of ateez for that matter) proposing to them in the cutest ways and i´m just... yeah, i´m sobbing. it´s a neeed <3

LOVE YOUUUUUU <3

i hope you´ll have an amazing day, my cutie patootie <3

Hi Kittykat ♥

I didn't think this through and fluff isn't my typical comfort zone so I'm sorry if that's terrible, but here's my attempt at fulfiling your needs for some cute comforting moment with Mingi.

Slight angst at the beginning, if that calls for a tw.

Love you ♥ @bethelighthalazia

I doesn’t take more than this for Mingi to immediately call you, cutting the texting short so he can hear your voice, looking for any sign of a breakdown. He knows every crack, every change in your tone and years of friendship have given him the luxury of anticipating that kind of conversations.

« Is it about that jerk again ? » Mingi’s voice is a little hoarse but soft as ever and you can’t help but sigh as soon as it wraps you up into an invisible blanket. While he has been trying his best to keep your mind off of your ex boyfriend, Mingi knows just how much you can get into your own thoughts sometimes, digging your own grave.

You’ve been laying in bed for hours now, spiraling into your darkest thoughts, hating yourself for the most and reminiscing the last time you have felt truly loved and desired, failing to pinpoint the exact moment. It is definitely « one of those days » you typically brush off, unwilling to make a big deal out of it but sadly settling into a pathetic routine.

A pity party you never asked for but still seem to secretely crave.

« No, it’s not » only half a lie. You have been thinking about him, but not quite as much lately.

« I was just wondering why no one ever loves me enough to stay, that’s all » while you’re aware of just how sad you must sound right now, there’s a sense of comfort and safety in your friendship with Mingi that makes i tokay for you to just blurt out anything coming to your mind, including your deepest secrets.

« What about me ? What about Yunho ? »

« I love you both dearly but… you’re my best-friends »

« And ? You don’t feel loved around us ? »

« God, Mingi… You just don’t get it… Nevermind » you sigh, a little hurt not to hear precisely what you need from him at that exact moment. Of course, your childhood best-friend being the stubborn man he is now, isn’t keen on giving up that easily.

« Why don’t you explain it to me then ? »

There’s a knock on the door and you’re suddenly aware of your current state. Hair messily wrapped into a bun, rotting in your pjs and you’re pretty sure your face looks like it hasn’t seen a ray of sunshine in days but still, nothing compares to the absolute shock of seeing Mingi standing in front of your door as soon as you reluctantly fling it open.

« I was in the neighborhood » he shrugs with a smile, ending the call as you stare at him in disbelief with your phone still tapped to your ear. You had noticed the traffic sound in the background earlier and while you could perfectly picture your best-friend walking around the city, heading to god-knows-where as he tried his best to cheer you up, you were nowhere near prepared to have him showing up at your door within ten minutes.

« So what is this all about ? » he adds as you remain with your back against the door for a while, nervous to put some actual words on your insecurities. But as Mingi walks closer to you with his typical gummy smile, his dimple digging into the flesh of his cheek as a reminder of the safe place you have found in this man, nothing seems too unbearable anymore.

« I just… don’t feel desirable lately… »

« That’s bullshit »

« Excuse me ? »

« You are desirable »

« Oh yeah, says who ? »

« I just said so, didn’t I »

« That’s not… »

« The same ? Yeah I know » he adds, his arms pulling you into a hug as you almost face plant into his chest. Sometimes, you tend to forget just how much taller he actually is, and though it’s not that obvious when you two are heading out while you perch yourself on some nice heels, today is quite the opposite. Standing on your tippy toes, you fail to even reach his shoulder and settle for the warmth of his chest against your cheek.

« You know you’re beautiful, right ? »

You nod, not entirely convinced but still appreciative of Mingi’s efforts to boost your confidence through his typical praises. You’ve been here before, seeking shelter into his arms while he tries his absolute best to cheer you up and though you would never admit it, there’s something about the way he looks at you, the intensity of his gaze almost burning through your skin, like there’s nothing left around for him to see but you, that makes you feel a little too special. More than you intend to be.

The sun has been replaced by a pitch black sky outside and the late hours of the night only occurs to you when you wake up, dizzy still, into the heated comfort of Mingi’s embrace. With his arm around you, your leg snaked around his hip as he rests lazily on the couch, the arm that isn’t keeping you safe simply settled behind his head as an extra pillow, Mingi only seems half-absorbed with the movie playing on tv, his attention caught with the very first flinch of your body against his.

« Well hello there, sleeping beauty » he smirks, immediately pressing his lips to your hair and you hate the way your skin reacts to a simple touch, shivers running down your spine as the warmth of his breath hits the back of your neck.

« How do you feel ? Any better ? » Mingi’s eyes are filled with a mix of worry and adoration, his palm reaching for your cheek to stroke it softly.

« Much better » you pause, reminiscing your prior breakdown « sorry ‘bout that ».

« Don’t you dare apologizing » his thumb hooks under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head upwards to meet his gaze, the intimacy of a simple gesture sending mixed signals to your brain though you decide to ignore those.

« I love you, don’t you ever doubt it » his lips find yours through a quick peck, nothing you haven’t done before but today, you feel him linger for a bit longer than usual, his fingers almost pushing into the plush flesh of your cheeks as you close your eyes to bask in the moment.

#request♥ #Kittykat♥ #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #that is very much a soft blurb #ateez fluff

[blacst4r]

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥🧸🎂

𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙩. solo sikoa x black fem

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮. tiana receives a special surprise on her birthday, and a lot more than that.

🔖: a fic from my first acc, I kept it saved so here's a repost with minor revisions.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIANA, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!" a loud roar of applause followed suit as everyone around the table clapped it up for the birthday girl turning "dirty 30," as her friends like to put it. Tiana shined as bright as the smile she flashed to her guests, mouthing a thank you and blowing air kisses as they settled down. Every year she aimed to celebrate her birthday like it was the most important day out of 365. But this celebration was one for the books, as she hit another important milestone in her life. And everyone she knew and loved went all out for it with lavish gifts and heartfelt words of adoration, making her feel the utmost important. They even rented out an entire restaurant for her special day.

She appreciated it all as she looked through glossy eyes at the small personalized cake they had made for her, it was heart-shaped and decorated in glittery pink icing with royal embellishments, the words Bad Bitch Szn imprinted in the center. It was topped with a single lit candle, waiting to be blown out. She had many gentle eyes on her as she silently made her wish, to live a long life full of prosperity. She took a deep breath and blew out the candle, opening her own eyes to see warm smiles.

"Thank you guys" she said wholeheartedly, fanning her face as she became teary eyed.

"Wait wait, before you fuck up ya makeup- snap some pics right quick" her bestie said to the photographer who went over to Tiana, snapping a couple shots that were likely being posted to the gram later on.

"Okay nooow cry" her bestie encouraged, making everyone laugh as Tiana used a napkin to lightly dab under her eyes.

The mood was light hearted as the conversation flowed smoothly, along with the food and drinks. Family and friends reminisced back on their favorite moments with Tiana, and vice versa. Soon the topic transitioned to a club they were gonna hit up afterwards to round out the night, or morning.

One of her girls leaned in to whisper, "you got one more gift" making Tiana's brow raise, "oh really? Is it outside?" thinking of a car possibly parked out. "It's comin' in." Now she was confused as what 'it' could be as she looked to the door, to see another girlfriend bringing someone over.

Someone, who made her jaw drop in shock as her hands flew over her mouth at just who was approaching the table. "Sefa??" her muffled voice seemingly confirming that last present.

She let out a squeal as she stood up and rushed over to a childhood friend, hugging him with her arms slinging around his neck, and his around her waist. A slew of giggles escaped her and they rocked back and forth for what felt like forever. His lips were dangerously close to her neck as he chuckled, "whats goin' on birthday girl." It was almost as if they were the only ones in the place at the moment.

She moved her hands down to his broad shoulders, caressing them some through the jacket he wore. "Oh my god look at you" she breathed, still overcome with emotion as she cupped his face, inspecting him real good. Damn, was he FINE fine now, she thought. He was donned in an all black fit with a gold link to accessorize the neck and a beanie. His facial hair was doing something extra for her as she felt a little flushed being this close to a now grown-ass Sefa.

"Damn I'm that ugly?" he joked as they both shared a laugh, he unhooked one of his arms to reveal a bag he was holding that she hadn't even noticed. "Happy Birthday T T," a slight shiver went up her spine at the nickname he used for her rolling off his tongue so sensually. She took the bag, planting a kiss on the corner of his lips as she grabbed his hand "thank you for coming stranger, long time no see. We gotta catch up, you want some cake?" she asked while walking him to the table. His eyes trailed down to her ass in that dress, "hell yeah" he answered huskily.

For the rest of the time spent, it was as if they were in their own world, too consumed in each other to notice anyone else present. They'd gotten right back on track where they left off of several years ago when they graduated from high-school. Updating each other on how their lives have been going, with Tiana being shocked at his profession now. "Oh you wrestle? Ion know anything about that but do your big one!!" he laughed at her compliment. "Appreciate it, and I am. I see you doin' yo big one too" his gaze traveled across her full figure as he bit his lip, making her tense up with a lil throb down there.

Her face flushed with a warmth as she giggled "stooop" she playfully pushed him as he captured her hand in his, making her nerves jolt. He inspected at her fingers curiously, "Ion see no ring, all them times you kept talkin about how you was gon be married when you got older." She sensed the tone in his voice for something deeper as they locked eyes. "I just haven't met the right one." He nodded, placing a kiss on the back of her hand that she then placed on his thigh.

"You comin' out with us? We hittin' up the club after?" she seemed eager for him to join, and he noticed that, agreeing.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

The dj was playing all the right songs too, as 'Hellcats srts' by Sexxy Red blasted through the speakers as Tiana drunkenly twerked on an equally drunk Sefa manspread in his seat enjoying the view. Maybe if she wasn't off several liquors she wouldn't have had the courage to twerk on him, but in their shared inhibited state, all that scary shit was out the window.

He tugged her down onto his lap, directly on his growing bulge earning a moan from the both of them. She leaned back into his chest, turning her head towards his with a lackadaisical smile.

"Wha'chu think you doin huh?" he taunted as she rolled her hips against his print, biting her lip at the friction, damn it felt big. "Makin up for lost tiiime," she slurred sexily as he snickered. "You crazy you know that?"

"That's not how you treat a friend" she whined in a pout. "Then how do you treat a friend TT?" the deepening of his voice anchored in her soul making her heat ache between her thighs. Especially from the way his hand kept feeling on her side, and along her curves. The way his fine ass was looking enticed her to bring his lips closer, and closer until they smashed into hers, moving harmoniously, with an intensifying desire.

She moaned as their mouths opened for their tongues to deliciously clash. He broke the kiss to mumble, "that still aint answer my question ma" as they eyed each other in lust.

Later on, that same lust that would emit from their naked bodies as they collided in passion on her king size bed, their clothes scattered around the room she welcomed him in.

Her friend dropped Tiana and Sefa off at her crib, already knowing what time it was when they couldn't keep their hands off each other in the backseat, making out. She smirked seeing them slightly staggering to the front door Tiana struggled to unlock, eventually doing so, and it was on from the moment they stepped foot in the house.

It took no time for him to be digging in her guts with that lengthy girth as she held onto him for dear life. Pounding her so good as her mangled screams bounced off the four walls while her own were being explored. The only sound that was just as loud was their skin clapping at a rhythm due to his fast paced, bottomless thrusts. He would barely even pull out before snapping his hips forward, driving back into her and making his balls slap against her hole.

His head was buried in her neck, whispering sweet nothings that coaxed even more of her nectar to soak his dick. "Shit, you like that? How I beat dat pussy up?" he grunted. She answered with more uncontrollable sounds of pleasure that made him lift his head up. "Nah that aint good enough, talk to me while I'm in yo shit" he snarled.

But she didn't have the strength to pronounce anything while having her soul snatched like this. And when he somehow speed up even more, it almost knocked the wind out of her. "Dick got you speechless huh?”

Shit, he was fucking her so hard the bed was rocking, with headboard hitting the wall like construction. He was workin on her pussy though, tearin it up. He had her back arched, toes curling about to pop, nails carving into his back surely to burn like hell when the hot water would hit it in the morning. But tonight the only thing hittin was his dickhead against her g-spot, over and over. She was about to explode as her fluttering eyes clamped shut, and her walls clamored around his massive flesh earning a deep groan from him. "Open that shit up and let it out, don't hold back."

"Fuuuck!!! Daddy!" she barely choked out before a series of stiff, rugged thrusts, stole her ability to speak. All he heard was blood-curdling screams before he pulled out, her hips lifting from the bed as she squirted projectiles at him with a squeal. Her body stiffened as her juices pushed out before subsiding.

He licked his lips with a laugh, "Damn I gotchu like dat?" amazement etched in his voice.

She panted, struggling to catch her breath, mind in a whirlwind leaving her light-headed, "oh my god! You missed me that much?"

He snickered, "you tryna joke huh? I’m tryna see how much you missed me too, so come ride this dick" he demanded, lying back on the bed. She was given no time to collect herself after being dicked down as he awaited her presence on top of that horse.

And gathered herself, watching him through hooded eyes still clouded by lust, sitting up and went to straddle him. Her manicured nails gripped his beefy mass to ease it through her slit while she lowered herself, taking every inch of him with her. "Mmph!...fuuuck!!" she gasped as he nudged that spot again, long and thick was a dangerous combination.

Flipping her hair over she palmed his chest, bouncing her ass at a slow but steady tempo to get adjusted to his size. She'd never had a dick this massive, whining about it in response. "You can take it…just like that” he coached lovingly as she rode him with agonizing whimpers, tediously stroking his pole up and down at a snails pace. He was a lot to take in, quite literally.

"Tell me how that feel baby" his voice dripped sweet honey nectar, sopped in a delicious desire.

"So fuckin good... you so big!"

“You got it baby, c’mere” he urged as she bent down, meeting his lips as they entangled sloppy with wet smacks from trading saliva. He hiked his legs up to pump her cunt a little faster. His hands groped her fat succulent flesh, giving it a couple harsh smacks before squeezing her ass. "Shit fat, who you get this thick for?"

She broke the kiss, "mmm, you daddy...f-fuck me harder" she begged.

"Thats whatchu want?" he asked, switching up the tempo before she could answer. His dick rammed through her at what felt like a hundred mph. Tiana unraveled at his torturous bliss as her mouth hung open, words lodged in her throat. Her lashes fluttered rapidly, eyes threatening to roll back into her head.

"This whatchu wanted huh?" Sefa goaded, fucking her hard and rough.

"Uh huh" she inhaled sharply.

"You gon cum fa daddy?"

"Yes! Yes!" she cried out weakly as he wrecked her insides with abandon. His arms entrapped her frame, holding her hostage. As she soon came, he chased after his climax with hurried strokes as his face relaxed, and his eyes clamped shut. He let out a low, guttural growl as released inside her, emptying his load with a gruff outcry, "uuggh shit!" His pumps slowed down, eventually stopping when he hollowed himself out.

They shared loud, short-winded breaths of exhaustion as she collapsed on his chest. He looked down at her, his fingers grazed her spine as he softly mumured, "how you like yo birthday gift?"

She smiled warmly, snuggling up against him, "I love it."

Mutual 🏷 : @trc-punzel @solefae @theninthwonder @empressdede @whatdoeseverybodywant

#solo sikoa #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa imagine

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Curious about this: What’ll happen to Tiff?

Also I love the AU!! Keep up the good work!

Guys I strongly suggest you read the first few chapters of The Knightmare's End for context... (it won't make sense).

I also want to take this chance to say:

The story is not only about Kirby becoming a Star Warrior, it's him growing up wanting to be one as well.

I guess you could consider this a continuation of these two previous posts: Post 1 & Post 2

Also wanted to do a Dame Morgan updated mask reveal (and being a little troll)~ Still don't know who I'm gonna put in the Kirby OC Tournament.

And spoilers ahead if you choose to keep reading.

@shibuya-toast

When I first wrote the story (a few years ago), I struggled to make Tiff a part of the story...

When mixing anime & game lore (of the Kirby series), it was difficult to find a purpose for Tiff & Tuff... especially after MK's reveal. I didn't want to just regulate them as support y' know. The role of Kirby's love & supporting guardian is no longer Tiff's.

What's the point if they're just going to stand around and make commentary? How do I make them in this story meaningful?

And when I came back to the story I realized something "Why don't I make that the conflict!" (Something to conflict with Kirby... the emotional conflict of the story.. let's make it meaningful."

Tiff & Tuff, in a sense, represents Kirby's "childhood" period in the series; Kirby grows in the series, and slowly, he realizes more of what he wants in life. I didn't set up the conflict with the cappies for nothing. The events of anime & the Knightmare's end carry.

It makes him realize how much of an outsider he is from the cappies. (and wanting to kick him out at the end of the series along with all the times they bullied Kirby too...)

They (the cappies) know it... and Tiff (being the problem solver she is) tries to fix it... which goes terribly! (And the whole: Kirby overhearing Tiff admitting she never wanted to be Kirby's guardian doesn't help the situation at all...)

This comes across as dismissive of Kirby's feelings... ouch! There are no more monsters to fight & Nightmare's gone... why are the problems still here. Making Kirby feel more isolated from everyone in town... (was it just him...)

This is why he opts to be with Meta Knight & his crew... more avoiding the (problem)... This is where basically Meta Knight reveals his (MK) past to Kirby. (Him being the cursed star & finding Jecra, Garlude & Team Halberd- the OG crew)

MK: Thought I was going to be an outcast forever... But I found my people you'll... find your people one day too.

Kirby: Poyo- Ka-bi's people?

Kirby re-establishing and growing a stronger bond with MK. And, of course, the new threat arrives... Dark Matter!

Throughout the series, Kirby does meet (his) people who seem to understand him better & know what he's going through. Through the madness, gaining a set of friends who know how to support him:

Kirby's People: The Star Allies - Highkey, the Star Allies (unintentionally) become Kirby's emotional support group.

Tiff & Tuff don't really trust Kirby's other set of new friends (the former baddies that tried to take over Dreamland... namely King Dedede, and Marx...). But this is what (sadly starts the drift (which I have hinted at in Marx's arch).

But by the time they're kinda let back into the loop and they forgive each other but it's never the same as it was. (Fall out during Marx's story& they make up before Planet Robot). (And have completely forgiven the former villains... KD & Marx)

They feel so out of place with Kirby's new fantastical friends who seem to fit in & understand him better... where does that leave them (Tiff & Tuff)? The group seems to have their own dynamic, with their little set of inside jokes... and Kirby's changed tremendously... It's almost as if Kirby's outgrown them...

And it's this unlikely rag-tag of reformed villains to friends that make him realize, "Hey, I really do want to be a star warrior... travel around the world, see distant lands, learn about other places, meet new people & make new friends, and help the lost become the better versions of themselves but..." He doesn't want to be Dreamland's hero...

One day Kirby has a big announcement! Inviting everyone to Dreamland & Star Allies, to share the news. Kirby is excited to share the news.

(After Kirby & the Forgotten Land... I made Star Allies the finale.)

Kirby: Guys, the galaxy council recognized Star Allies as an official group and we've been given a planet to make our own base!

Knuckle Joe: ALL OURS!?

MK: That's right *pats Kirby's head* "Brehmuhm" (the planet that was given to Kirby), and all Star Allies it's be considered almost another branch to the GSA. That's lead under Kirby!

Kirby:* shows the set of plans to everyone* It can be our own personal quarters that you guys can visit & stay whenever you want.

Adeline: Wait, we can live there too?

Kirby: Yup, it's set up in the part of the galaxy where everyone can access it, and it's right next door to the GSA base... Of course, I'll be overseeing the plans with Meta Knight there-

Tiff: Wait Kirby I-

Magolor: Hey, I thought you were gonna stay with us in Halcandara for a month?

Kirby: I still am I just have to check in with MK at the GSA HQ at the end of each week.

Tiff: Hold on-

Marx: Come on~ MK WHY YOU GOTTA TAKE CHECK-INS ON THE WEEKENDS AT LEAST MONDAYS-

Tiff: WHAT IS GOING ON!~

Bandee: Me & Kirby plan to tour around for about a year before uh-oh

Tiff: Before what?

Kirby & Bandee had planned to take a tour around the galaxy. And the first place he's planning to stay is HALCANDRA BABY (Marx & Magalor)! Then next month Ripple Star (Adeline & Ribbon), then Floralia (Taranza), and ending the tour with Patchland (Prince Fluff) and dropping Bandee home. (Basically where all the Star Allies live... I did not want to list all places but you get the idea.)

This tour was to help establish diplomatic ties throughout the galaxies for the GSA (but lowkey, it was just an excuse to buy Kirby a year-long vacation).

Then Kirby formerly planning to move into the Star Ally base with Meta Knight and the rest of his crew and start his formal training with the Star Warrior in the GSA headquarters. (Becoming a cadet.)

(This was before Meta Knight became leader... and they didn't know that he was going to become the leader of the GSA, so yeah they were gonna have to move there any way either way~)

Kirby does pass the baton down to King Dedede (who has grown to be a true king and defender of Dreamland). Which I did hint at here: (sorry for my second blog that doesn't get much attention due to the spoiler nature of it due to it being a prelude of the future....)

So Kirby was planning to officially step down as their hero and hand it over to King Dedede, announcing his departure from Dreamland in two months, and then go on tour with Bandee the week after.

Needless to say yeah they're not happy about Kirby suddenly announcing his departure... But what specifically happens to Tiff well... it's Morgan-related but that's for later~

This is basically a water-down version of events, so if it doesn't seem like it makes sense, it does (there are just a few things in the middle I wanna keep a surprise...) but, it all makes sense in the end, I promise.

(I may want to change up how happens, but yup this is the gist of it!)

Brehmuhm is actually a reference to the fairy tale: The Town Musicians of Bremen by the Brothers Grimm. It's just the pronunciation of "Bremen" spelled out for~ (If you know the fairy tale you know why I chose to name it Bremen :3)

#kirby #kbasw #meta knight #kirby tiff #kirby fumu #tiff (fumu) #kirby tuff #metadad #kbasw answers #spoilers #dame morgan #morgan le fay #Morgan's mask is a kitsune #kirby oc

[ningsols]

[CANON] MIRACULOUS dr

Kagami Tsurugi (Japanese: 剣 鏡; born November 20, 2005) more commonly known as Ryuko, is the holder of the Dragon Miraculous which contains the power of Perfection. She is not known as Rivera _____'s girlfriend as the two have promised to keep their relationship a secret in order not to be further pulled apart by Kagami's mother, Tomoe Tsurugi.

hero alias : ryuko

birth name : kagami tsurugi

date of birth : november 20, 2005

zodiac sign : scorpio

chinese zodiac sign : rooster

height : 163 cm (5'4")

mbti type : istj

nationality : french

how do we meet? : we meet at the private academy we both attend since our early childhood. we only get close within the past few years due to being partnered up in projects, otherwise we never would've run in the same circles.

relationship trope : friends to lovers to forced rivals to allies to lovers

relationship dynamic : moon & sun

things about our relationship :

✶ we’ll spend hours together not even talking; we really like to read together — we’re always recommending each other new books to read

✶ we help each other in school for the subjects that we aren't as good at

✶ most of my kitty section lyrics are about her, but despite how smart she is, she doesn't realize it

✶ we’re both also battling terrible comphet (kagami dating adrien; me thinking i like luka) and fears (tomoe threatening and forcing me to transfer schools halfway through the year is terrifying okay)

✶ but at the end of the day we both always choose each other

✶ she's very controlling of adrien because she wants him to act/be like me

✶ she instantly recognizes me as viveka

✶ she calls me noa so her mom doesn't know that we’re still talking

✶ 𓂂 ˚ ⭒ . ݁ . RELATIONSHIP PLAYLIST RIVERA X KAGAMI ♡

"You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good Luck, Babe!" Good Luck, Babe! Chappell Roan

Both Kagami and I have a hard time facing our comphet after Ms. Tsurugi forces us apart. Kagami finds herself attached to Adrien, becoming controlling because deep down she knows he will never be me. Meanwhile, I begin to think I have feelings for my bandmate, Luka, although he just reminds me of her.

"As we—Fall in too deep within our choices [...] What did our fate do to align?" Fragile Voices Adib Sin

This song encapsulates Kagami and I's relationship as we're on the edge of giving up on us because of the external forces forcing us apart. We're still so intertwined, in a way we don't even realize, and yet we feel each other slipping from our grasps.

"But with everybody watching us-our every move—we do have reputations. We keep it secret, won't let them have it" Once More To See You Mitski

Kagami has a lot on the line, and I have my own safety to worry about. We have to keep our relationship private—We have to cherish the little moments we have together so they don't take it away from us.

"So can we just close our eyes and undress our feelings inside? Our horoscope told me that we could be lovers—So, let's give it a try." Undress Adib Sin

Me after scripting even our horoscopes prove that we're made for each other!!! No but seriously, she's all about needing proof for everything to just trust, so this is my proof that we need to ignore whatever her mom or the world wants for us—we deserve to be together!!!

"You don't need a song, but just in case: You're my lover [girl] [...] My only you and no other [girl]" Lvr Boy Awfultune

Peep the Kitty Section reference. No but seriously, she's my lover girl as much as anyone tries to deny it<33

"Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid. [...] [She] was chaos, [she] was revelry." But Daddy I Love Him Taylor Swift

Kagami is the dutiful daughter, meanwhile I'm the chaos. It takes a lot of convincing before her mom is even okay with us being friends, given that I'm lesbian and supposedly "turning her daughter into one" .. But we push past the expectations and choose to be together

#✶ NINGSOLS #⭒ ∯ 𓏸𓈒 ⠀ ⃝ RIVER's drs #⭒ . ݁ canon miraculous dr 。 #shifting antis dni #desired reality #manifestation #shifting #shifting realities #manifesting #reality shifting #shifting blog #shifting community #miraculous shifting #shifting motivation #manifesation

[beanghostprincess]

hear me out I like zeff/yasopp I think it's great but just hear me out sora right? Mrs Vinsmoke instead of poisoning herself to fix her babies. She poisons her husband, killing him. She takes her daughter and runs away to the east blue.

She finds the nice humble island with a small village known as syrup village. She has a nice little home and delivers her babies in the village and raises them on her own. They're all completely normal well adjusted non-emotionally stunted children with their own passions and hobbies. Ichiji literature and poetry, Niji gardening and plants Sanji is still cooking and Yonji is sports mainly baseball Reiju ballet.

she befriends a lady named Banchina she likes to visit her once in a while and brings her son usopp to play with them. They get closer like really close Sora is catching feelings practically having a second sexual awakening with this woman. She doesn't know what to do She didn't even know she was bisexual until now. That's how trapped she was in that miserable miserable marriage

Banchina is a lesbian (insert lavender marriage backstory right here we know the lore yasopp is being gay somewhere this ain't about him) she fell for this woman the minute she saw her she was head over heels. Gorgeous, beautiful. She needs her She wants her. She pursues her

They kiss, they start seeing each other more often they get closer they're in love

NOOO THIS IS SO CUTE ILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEITILOVEIT-

The whole lavender marriage thing with Yasopp and Banchina is just amazing to me, tbh. I adore them. And Sora deserved so much better,, She deserved to escape from that hell and get a wife fr fr. And in this concept we're like, SO adding Childhood BFFs to lovers Sanuso right??? Right???

Because I can't stop thinking about Sora raising the kids on her own in Syrup Village and they all have their little personalities and passions. And Sanji still loves to cook and is the sweetest thing that has ever existed. Honestly, he might not get his stubborn and strong personality from Zeff but he could most definitely get it from his brothers. 100%. If in this concept they act like normal siblings I can assure you they are arguing 24/7 (but they're very protective of Sanji because you will have to kill me before I give up my headcanon of the brothers actually loving Sanji a lot). So yadda yadda yadda he meets Usopp and they are best friends and they grow up together and they are boyfriends and the story is similar to the original except that there's no Zeff BUT Luffy does end up making these two idiots join. Except that they're boyfriends already. And the story doesn't change because they already look like boyfriends in canon.

But this isn't about them because I like women more!

Okay so Sora is the sweetest mother in the whole world but since she has to raise the kids on her own she also has to act tough sometimes and you know,,, It is a hard job when you have,,, 5 kids,,, Poor woman. But she loves her little angels SO much it's insane and they love her even MORE and they all help in their tiny little home in the village somehow. Tiny little family that is not so tiny because those are 5 kids. Girl,,, I just know Banchina would want to help her somehow. Usopp doesn't have that many friends and Banchina thinks it's a great idea to go visit Sora and the kids so Usopp has somebody to play with. And even if it's a bit hard because his personality clashes a lot with the brothers, he gets along the most with Sanji. Instant best friendism because Sanji looks so sweet and quiet and sensitive and Usopp goes full superhero mode on him. My pookies,,,

Honestly, Banchina is so real for falling for Sora right away. Because. You know. Have you seen Sora? I think Banchina admires her a lot because sometimes it's hard for her to raise Usopp on her own without Yasopp around and you're telling her Sora can do that same thing with 5 kids??? And Sora falls for Banchina too because. Again. Have you seen her??? And she is also so fun to be around and so so helpful!

Wouldn't it be extremely sweet but angsty if they started to fall in love, meeting even when the kids aren't around and doing chores together, but Sora feeling guilty because she thinks Banchina is actually married married to Yasopp? She doesn't know anything about the lavender marriage yet,,, And Banchina doesn't want to ask personal, intrusive things, so she doesn't know more than "They escaped from a bad place" about Sora and her kids. She guesses she doesn't want a romantic relationship now-- But she does!! Of course she does!!

Banchina is just,, So sweet to her and so so helpful and thoughtful. Sora isn't used to this much kindness in her life,, You have to keep in mind she basically got out of an abusive relationship and it's the first time somebody actually wants her for herself and not to use her. Banchina always wants to cook for her and help her with her groceries and look after the kids when Sora wants to take a nap. And I think Sora also would see her with Sanji cooking, stopping fights between the brothers and playing with them (also fixing their stuff bc I hc that Banchina knows her ways when it comes to like, mechanics and art and such), and talking for hours with Reiju and dancing with her. Sora is so in love,,, She has never felt like this before. She didn't even know she liked girls. But she doesn't want to make any sudden changes for the kids,, Again,, Or ruin what they have. So she stays quiet.

And Banchina loves painting, by the way. Obviously, because I say so (and bc I want Usopp to have a deeper reason to love art). So Banchina is always drawing Sora, at first absentmindedly, and later on she realizes the only thing that inspires her is Sora,,, She has always been looking for that. A true passion and stability and knowing she can trust somebody to stay and to offer her their heart so she can paint it. She's a bit intense when it comes to helping Sora, maybe, but she wants to be helpful! And Sora is always taking care of her too and her health!! Looking out for her and being oh so gentle and fun to be around. Sora is the sweetest but she's also a bit of a tease and her laugh is the cutest thing Banchina has ever heard. But yeah,,, Neither of them wants to confess even though they've almost kissed,,, A lot of times.

Okay,,, But wouldn't it be cute if Sanji and Usopp's crushes on each other started very early in their friendship and Sora and Banchina realized they have to be honest about their feelings thanks to their kids??? Because they both ask for advice from them about how to tell somebody you like them, and when they're both like "If you truly feel like it's meant to be you'll know... You need to follow your heart and be honest..." they know they have to finally be together together. They wouldn't tell their kids right away because they think they need to get used to more to this dynamic first and it's a big change. So they stay quiet and keep it to themselves. But, you know, Banchina and Usopp basically live with them now at this point so it's hard not to know.

Also,,, Can't stop thinking about Sora being a badass and knowing Judge is the most horrible person to ever exist BUT still having issues with relationships because of his fault? She still has this feeling of like, thinking she's worthless and needs to do more and more and more? And give give give? And Banchina helping her all the time and sharing the burden and seeing all the pretty things Judge found ugly in her,,,, It does wonders for her heart. And Banchina also realizes that she doesn't have to be alone and can share her passions and true feelings with somebody finally??? What if I cry.

Aghhhh. I absolutely adore this. The kids grow up and do their own things and Usopp and Sanji go with Luffy and they are all happy and there's no angst! And once they're alone they can be cottagecore middle-aged sapphics in their little village.

Lil note: Somebody choose a shipname bc I am awful with these things thank you-

#and we're not killing the moms here because i am a good person #OMG YOU KNOW 'BEGIN AGAIN' BY TAYLOR SWIFT???? THAT'S THEMMMM FROM SORA'S POV #remember when i said zeff/yasopp was like hahaha old sanuso?? well this is better bc they're women and i love women #anon i am kissing you right now i love you you don't even know i owe you the world #I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT THEM #banchina sends letters to yasopp about sora btwww #usopp like. years later: our moms were totally dating right #sanji: what?! no--- no... right? oh. oh they were dating yes #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #vinsmoke sora #banchina one piece #vinsmoke reiju #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke niji #so many siblings damn #ask-bean!

[prefect30]

Little Dove

Instead of Lucy Gray, he got her younger, little sister, Rosalie Jade.

Chapter Four

Chapter Warnings: MDNI/18+/Mature scene - consented.

“I’m sorry ‘bout your friend.”

Today was the first “official” mentor-tribute interview day. Conveniently, the day after Arachne’s death. So here sat Rosalie Jade, along with the other 22 tributes, at a small table, where they were hand-cuffed to the table–the Academy didn’t want any more accidents–and each mentor was sat on the other side of the table, facing their tribute.

Coriolanus had already had an idea that Rosalie Jade was not one for violence, but rather peace and serenity. His idea was proven correct when he watched her throw up the food he had gotten her after watching Arachne be murder. It was further proven when he watched her comfort the one girl, who’s name he learned was Wovey, when Arachne’s murderous tribute had been displayed for all at her services, including the rest of the–very much alive–tributes. This was most definitely going to be a problem in the arena, where Rosalie Jade would be surrounded by destruction, violence, and death. She would not be able to hold someone’s hand as their head, and inturn, hers, would be cut off. So Coriolanus made a mental note to himself to make sure to work on getting her used to the site of blood, destruction, and death. How to do that, he would figure out later.

“It’s fine, Little Dove. She was just someone I knew from my childhood.” Coriolanus waved her off, sitting down across from her.

“She was a bitch and needed to die anyway.” Was what Coriolanus wanted to add, but decided against it, knowing how sensitive and fragile his tribute was.

“She was still your friend, though. Still someone ya’ knew Coryo.” Rosalie Jade responded, putting her small finger tips that the cuffs allowed her to, and traced small comforting lines back and forth on his hand.

Coryo. God, it sounded so good, I should have made her call me that from the start. And who knew that someone from District 12 could have such soft hands? They’re like fucking clouds. Can people feel like clouds?

“I guess you’re right. It’s ju-it’s been so different without h-her here.” Coriolanus lowered his head, putting his hand into hers so she was able to put her whole tiny hand on his large one, encouraging her to rub her thumb over his knuckles. Coriolanus would milk this tit all fucking day if he could. The sensations he was feeling from her hands on his just made him feel so comforted, wanted, loved.

“It’s ok Coryo. While I can’t promise you anythin’, just know that things will get better. You just gotta have hope.” Rosalie Jade tried to move closer to him, but a Peacekeeper near them put his hand on his gun, saying not to move any closer to Coriolanus, saying that the tributes were meant to keep a controlled distance away from their mentor. Coriolanus internally groaned at that and cursed Arachne for her stupid antics that now has everyone paying the price.

“Thank you, Little Dove.” Coriolanus smiled at her.

“Anytime Coryo.” Rosalie Jade smiled back at him, squeezing his hand in return.

Coriolanus, instead of doing his job and trying to help Rosalie Jade win, Coriolanus just sat there with a smile on his face that made him look like a teenage boy in love, trying to hold Rosalie Jade’s hand as long as he could, relishing in the wonderful feeling and burst of happiness he was getting from being touched.

“Hey, ah, where were you this mornin’? Everyone else’s mentors were here, but you weren’t. Thought you might’ve forgotten me!” Rosalie Jade joked, releasing her hand from his.

Feeling cold and wanting to get her warmth back, Coriolanus grabbed her hand again, in a comforting way, “Oh, I would never forget you Little Dove. I just had to drop something off for someone at the Citadel.”

It was true, Coriolanus was running late this morning because he needed to go to the Citadel first since he needed to drop off his paper of ideas for Dr. Gaul. The same paper that Clemensia insisted that she help on, which she did not. Since Arachne’s untimely death, Clemensia has barely talked to Coriolanus about the paper, let alone anyone. She seemed to have actually cared about that obnoxious little bitch that was going to try to blackmail Coriolanus. Coriolanus, however, couldn’t give two shits. He never really liked Arachne and when she started showed signs of wanting to blackmail Coriolanus, well that was the last straw. She had to go. But the day of her death, he found himself lying awake at night, not being able to fall asleep. Maybe it was guilt about not being able to save Arachne or maybe it was that her death reminded him too much of his mother’s. It was probably the latter. So that night, Coriolanus stayed awake and wrote the whole paper, putting all of his ideas down messily then fixing it up formally on the final copy. The last two nights had gone into revising the final copy so it would be perfect for Dr. Gaul. He needed this paper to be perfect for her if he wanted any chance of helping Rosalie Jade.

“Oh, ok!” Rosalie Jade smiled, leaning back in the chair as much as it would allow her, releasing Coriolanus’ hands for the final time. “So, whatcha’ got planned for me, Mr. Snow?” Rosalie Jade teased.

“Right! So for your final interview-” Coriolanus started but then was cut off by Rosalie Jade snapping at him, “I’m not talking ‘bout the interview, Coryo. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the Games. What can I do to live?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need to focus on your interview. That is what will help you.” Corioalnus told her, getting a little frustrated, that she cut him off.

“You want to help me?” Rosalie Jade questioned him.

“Of course Little Dove.” Corioalnus answered.

“Then start thinking that I can actually win.” She said, looking him in the eyes while leaning in closer.

Well, she does have a point there. But she is just so damn small! How can she survive?! Ohh!

“You're right. I’m sorry. When we get the tour of the arena tomorrow, we will look around for somewhere for you to climb or run and hide in. That is going to be your best bet. Don’t go into the Cornucopia right away, it’s just a trap to lure you into your death. That is where most of the deaths happen. We even call it the ‘Blood Bath’ whenever we go over previous Games in class because it is always so brutal and bloody.” Coriolanus tried to give her as much information as he could without overloading her small little brain.

Rosalie Jade didn’t say anything, but rather just stared at him in awe. In a terrified awe. Coriolanus saw as her sky blue almond eyes filled with tears. Other than the Reaping, where she almost cried in front of all of Panem, Coriolanus had never seen Rosalie Jade cry before. She had always been happy, making light of her horrible situation. Now, she sat in front of him with her head in her hands, crying her pretty little eyes out.

“Hey, it’s ok. I promise. My job is to protect you and keep you safe and alive. I intend to do that.” Coriolanus said, grabbing her hand and rubbing his fingers against her knuckles this time.

“I-I’m so-ory. I didn’t want to c-cry, b-but-I…I-I don’t wanna die, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade choked out.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to be sorry, Little Dove. You’re gonna be just fine. Ok? I promise, I am going to keep you safe.” Coriolanus said, taking his handkerchief out of his breast pocket, wiping away her tears.

“Why don’t I tell you what I got you for your interview, huh?” Coriolanus said, trying to distract Rosalie Jade.

“Y-yeah.” She hiccupped.

“I got you a guitar! Remember, just like you asked.” Coriolanus said enthusiastically, trying to cheer her up just like an older brother would do for their little sister.

“Really?” Rosalie Jade said, her tears glistening in hope.

“Yup! And my cousin is even going to let you borrow a dress just for the interview so she can wash your mother’s dress. She promises that she will be very careful.”

“T-that’s nice.” Rosalie Jade said, starting to come back to her normal, fun, light hearted self.

“Yeah.” Coriolanus absentmindedly said, so happy that he was able to make her happy and smile again. But as soon as he got her somewhat to her normal self, he remembered why he was here. Why she was here.

The form.

“Hey, so I need to ask you some questions to fill out this form on you. It’s to help with your interview.” Coriolanus said, hoping that the form wouldn’t upset her again and lead her to cry once more. He didn’t think his heart could handle his Little Dove crying again, this time because of him and not the Games.

Rosalie Jade just looked up at him, drying up her final tears with his handkerchief, and nodded.

“Great. So we have your name, age, District, and you already said that you have one sibling, your sister, Lucy Gray.” Rosalie Jade just sat there, nodding along with him in awe when he remembered her sister’s name, let alone that she even had one. She didn’t think that Coriolanus was listening to her when she had randomly brought up her sister.

“So that just leaves a partner, hobbies, and skills. We can cross off partn-” Coriolanus started but was cut off with Rosalie Jade saying, “Oh! I do have a boyfriend. Quite handsome if I do say so myself.” She smiled up at him, her previous sadness seemingly gone.

What!? Who?

Coriolanus internally growled to himself. Who could this little girl possibly be dating and why?

“Yeah? And who’s that Little Dove?” Coriolanus asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his composure.

“The baker’s boy of course! Ryder Mellark, but we all call him Rye.” Rosalie Jade said matter of factly.

That’s such a stupid fucking name.

“Why do  you care, though? You jealllllllous?” Rosalie Jade teased, dragging her L.

“W-what. No-o.” Coriolanus turned red at her accusation. He just wanted to know who thought that they were good enough to have his Little Dove.

Rosalie Jade just laughed at him stumbling over his words, “Oh my gosh, relax! I’m just playin’ with ‘ya. I ain't dating no one. Lucy Gray would rather have me hung than have me date someone. Though, the baker’s son is quite cute. Rye, not Corbin, he’s already datin’ someone…”

Coriolanus just let out a sigh of release as he let Rosalie Jade rant. He would let her talk as much as she wanted if it meant that she wasn’t dating someone. But for some reason, her thinking that Rye was cute, irked him.

“What about your hobbies?” Coriolanus cut off her rant as he realized that his time with her today was dwindling down.

“Oh, well I like to sing, but you already know that. I like to dance and swim too. Ooh! Before District 4 became District Four, when we were down there, Lucy Gray taught me to swim, so now I’m an expert! I swim so much down in the lake during the summer that my hands are almost always pruned up! You would like the lake, maybe one day you’ll get to see it.” Rosalie Jade smiled sadly at him, relaxing that she would never see her lake again.

“Or maybe I might visit you after you win and you can show me.” Coriolanus lied, trying to keep her spirits up. To that, she smiled back at him, this time more cheerfully. But there was no way in hell that Coriolanus was ever going to step foot in District 12 of all places.

“So I guess I can put swimming down as one of your skills. Do you have any more?” Coriolanus asked.

“No, sorry.” Rosalie Jade said, looking down, anxiously playing with Coriolanus’ handkerchief.

“Hey, it’s ok. At least you have something.” Coriolanus calmly told her, reaching his hands out towards her, wanting to take it in his hand again, but Rosalie jade took this as him wanting his handkerchief back.

“No, it’s ok. You keep it to dry your eyes whenever you need to.” Coriolanus told her.

It most certainly is not ok. You have no other skills than swimming in a dry land arena. How that fuck is that going to help you me?

“I can’t Coryo, it’s yours.” Rosalie Jade said, continuing to push his hand back to give him his handkerchief back.

Grabbing her hands and looking her in the eyes, Coriolanus said, “It’s fine Rosie Jay, it’s yours now. I have more at home.” He didn’t have many left, but she didn’t need to know that.

She finally accepted the handkerchief, but only in shock of him calling her Rosie Jay instead of Rosalie Jade or Little Dove.

“Alright! Time to go! Mentors, go please exit from the front left door! Tributes, stay where you are until a Peacekeeper comes to move you back into the monkey exhibit.” Coriolanus heard a Peacekeeper say.

He quickly stood up and walked to Rosalie Jade’s left side, giving her a kiss on the head, “I will see you tomorrow, Little Dove. I’ll make sure to bring you food, too.”

“Thank you, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade said, kissing him on the cheek in a sisterly love way, causing Coriolanus to blush and his body to tingle. Once he said goodbye to her, he started to walk away, contently until one of his peers, Festus Creed, started to join Coriolanus on his walk to his class.

“Quite the goodbye, huh.” Festus said to Coriolanus.

“I suppose you’re right. Just trying to calm her down.” Coriolanus defended.

“Right.” Festus laughed as he started to walk away from Coriolanus.

Idiot.

God, my pants are so tight.

Coriolanus was sitting in his seat, listening to Highbottom drone on about past Games and how the mentors could use them to their advantage to get a better chance for their tribute to win. But the only thing that Coriolaus could focus on was his pants. They just felt so tight.

Maybe Tigris did something to them or I outgrew them? Fuck.

Coriolanus kept moving in his seat, trying to make himself comfortable, but to no avail. His constant moving caught the eye’s of some of his fellow students, and Highbottom’s.

“Is there a problem Mr. Snow?” Highbottom raised his left eyebrow towards Coriolanus.

“Yes, I have a question.” Coiolanus said. He couldn’t say he needed the restroom without people thinking that he was about to pee himself.

“And what might that be, Mr. Snow?” Highbottom asked, condescendingly.

“You said that Cassius Heath was the first ever victor, from Two. The next from One, and the next, Two again. It has been a pattern since the start of the Games, with the occasion of one of the lower Districts winning every few Games. I mean, there have only been two winners from lower Districts. So why is it that the higher Districts almost always seem to win?” Coriolanus asked. He had made it up as he went, but as he finished, he heard the logic behind his made-up question.

Highbottom opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He looked stumped, like he didn't think Coriolanus was actually going to ask a question. Finally figuring out an answer to giver him, Highbottom said, “Are you proposing that the higher Districts are possibly preparing kids for the Games? Cheating?”

“I wouldn’t put it behind them. They have the money too, they could train them, maybe even get some to volunteer.” Corioalnus spoke confidently, amused that he had stumped High-as-a-kite-bottom for once.

“Hmm. Stay after class, Mr. Snow. I would like to talk to you more on this idea of yours.” Highbottom said, shrugging off Coriolanus’ answer. Coriolanus knew better than to think that Highbottom was going to actually talk to him about his idea. No, he was most likely going to lecture him about disrupting his class.

“Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom. Also, may I use the restroom?” Coriolanus quickly said.

“Yes, boy, go. I don’t need you disrupting my class any longer.” Highbottom waved him off.

Or maybe he’ll lecture me in front of the whole class.

“You know, that shirt looks quite good on you, Coriolanus.”

Oh fuck off.

“Thank you, Livia.”

Coriolanus was just trying to open the door to the men's restroom when Livia Cardew came up to him, flirting. Why? Coriolanus had no idea.

“Can I help you Livia?” Coriolanus asked, just wanting to try to fix his pants.

“No,” Livia said, bluntly walking up to Coriolanus, “but maybe I can help you with something.” She said, slightly rubbing her hand on his crotch.

Coriolanus immediately turned red, “W-what are you talki-what are you doing Livia?”

“Oh, come on, Coryo. You can't act all high and mighty in front of that tribute of yours, stump Highbottom and expect me to not be turned on. I mean, have you seen yourself. You look like a fucking Greek God. And that's with your clothes on, I can only wonder what you look like with them off.” Livia mumbled the end, continuing her ministrations on Coriolanus’ hard dick.

Coriolanus was about to speak up, to correct her when she called him Coryo, only Rosalie Jade could call him that, when he realized that he could use this situation to his advantage. Livia came from a wealthy family and with what she had said about wondering about him, Coriolanus could only imagine how many times she had gotten herself off to the thought of him. He had caught her on many different occasions staring at him or more specially, his arms, hands, and pants. He had caught many other girls, but Livia was a reoccurring face. What can he say? Coriolanus Snow was a catch.

Coriolanus, composing himself, grabbed Livia's hand and brought her close to him, and in turn his dick, causing her to whimper, “Why thank you Livia, but it seems that you want help from me though, doesn't it?” Coriolanus asked cockily, smirking to himself when he moved his free hand to Livia's waistband of her pants-skirt uniform, toying with it lightly drawing a soft moan from Livia.

God, I haven't even done anything yet and she is already a pathetic whimpering, moaning mess.

Livia just nodded her head as he lightly pulled her into the bathroom by her waistband. He let go of her wrist and locked the bathroom door, he knew no one would be in the bathroom during class, it was almost an unspoken rule of not going during class as it would ruining precious learning time, but Highbottom must hate Coriolanus so much, that he didn't seem to care much about his learning time. How rude.

Coriolanus moved his hand further down into her pants, lightly rubbing his knuckles over her wet underwater, drawing a gasp from Livia.

The second he ghosted his fingers over her clit, he pulled them away, “Too bad you said you didn't need my help. But I do recall you offering your help.” Coriolanus smirked as he watched her face go from pleasurable excitement, to disappointment, and back to excitement again. He continued to smirk as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him. 

“Good girl.” Coriolanus whispered, as she slowly brought down the lower part of his uniform. He looked her in the eyes as she brought down his underwear, watching his hard dick smack his stomach. He smirked as she gasped at his size and leaned his head back as she gently took his dick in her hand, pumping him up and down.

He closed his eyes in pleasure as she went faster. He let out small grunts and groans of pleasure, but nothing that would make Livia feel praised. She didn't deserve Coriolanus Snow's praise.

She slowly brought him into her mouth, taking as much as she could while jerking off what she could fit. The unexpected warmth caused Coriolanus to buck his into her mouth, making her gag slightly.

Coriolanus, deciding that her bobbing up and down on his length wasn't fast enough, brought his right hand down to her hair, roughly grabbing some of her hair, making her go faster. Livia whimpered from his hold on her head and gagged from the sudden movement.

God. I can't believe that I am doing this. I'm letting this pathetic, little self entitled bitch suck me off during class. But she came onto me, so it's not really my fault. Besides, I was already hard, I needed something or someone to give me some release.

Coriolanus slowly started to buck his hips more into Livia's mouth, causing her gagging to become more frequent.

I still can't believe that I am doing this in school. And right after talking to Rosalie Jade. Oh, Little Dove, what am I going to do about you? There has to be some way to keep you safe, to make sure that you live. That you can go back home to your sister, to me. We could be a family. You're like my little sister. Yes. My singing, fragile, cute little sister. I would protect you just like a big brother. I would do better than your sister did. I would have never let you get Reaped. I would keep you safe, my Little Dove.

As Coriolanus was thinking fantasizing about what to do with Rosalie Jade, he continued to fuck Livia's mouth, his pace increasing giving her mouth no relent.

Maybe I could keep you in the Corso, away from all the dangers of the world. Just like a bird in a gilded cage.

With that, Coriolanus' grip on Livia's hair tightened, keeping her on his cock as he released himself inside of her throat with a loud groan.

He kept her there for a moment, enjoying the warmth she brought that reminded him of Rosalie Jade, and reluctantly let her off to breathe.

Who knew blondes could give good head? I wish her hair was more golden though, like Rosalie Jade’s.

He went into one of the stalls and grabbed some toilet paper, cleaning himself off first, then walking over to Livia–who was still trying to catch her breath–and lifted her chin up with his two fingers, cleaning up her face, focusing on her mouth. He had to seem somewhat kind after he just roughly fucked her face, otherwise she might not like Coriolanus anymore with how he treated her and then he might lose a way to get money. But the lovestruck look in her eyes as Coriolanus cleaned her up told him otherwise.

Maybe she's a masochist?

He looked her in the eyes as he spoke slowly, “You're gonna keep this between us right? Our little secret?”

Livia nodded as she moved herself onto his left shoe, humping it gently, trying to relieve some pressure. Coriolanus quickly moved his foot away, gripping his jaw harshly, “Words, Livia.”

“Yes. Our little secret.” Livia answered, blissfully, for her dreams were coming true. Well, some of them.

Coriolanus just smirked, moving towards the door, exiting with cold words, “Then maybe you should go to the nurse, get an ice pack for your head, wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious of us both going to the restroom at the same time. It would ruin our secret, now wouldn't it?”

“Y-yes! It would. I will! Bye Cory-” Livia started, but was cut off with Coriolanus slamming the door on her face.

“What a gentleman, thinking about my head.” Livia said, dreamily as she got herself ready to go to the nurse.

“And why would you think this, Mr. Snow?”

Had Coriolanus known that Highbottom was going to tell Dr. Gaul about his “question,” he would have tried to at least prepare himself a little better. Instead, he stood across from a curious Dr. Gaul and a smirking Highbottom.

Fucking bastard.

“Well, while I know that the Games are still young, it seems that there has been a victory pattern. The higher ranking Districts seem to almost always win the Games, with the occasion of a tribute from a lower ranking one” Coriolanus was trying to make himself sound as serious as possible since he was now presenting his “question” to Dr. Gaul. Had it just been Highbottom, then Coriolanus would have been looking for ways to get Rosalie Jade food by now. He wasn't going to listen to whatever the incompetent man had to say.

“Are you suggesting that there is some sort of cheating going on in the Districts, Mr. Snow?” Gaul asked, with an eyebrow raised. Had she missed something? Was that why the ratings have been going down since the seventh Games? Were the people of the Capitol getting bored of seeing the same few Districts winning?

“I think there has been some sort of training going on in certain Districts. That they are preparing their tributes for the Games,” Coriolanus started, “That they are choosing certain boys and girls before the Reaping so they have a better chance of winning. The boy tribute last year even volunteered.” Coriolanus finished.

“But why, Mr. Snow? Why would a District go through all that trouble to just win back the same person they sent to die. They don't get anything else in return.” Gaul countered, getting more intrigued by the minute.

“For the sake of being the Victor. It is the only thing that they can win back from the war other than a kid they sent to die. But they can only be the Victor for a period of time. And that's what I wrote about in the paper you assigned Clemensia and me. I think that if there was something for the Districts to win other than the person back, they would be more inclined to try to win. To play our games.” The whole time Coriolanus was saying this, Highbottom was just watching the two of them, scowling in disgust.

What is his problem? He was the one that caused this. The Games and this conversation.

Gaul just looked at him in delight. She had a feeling that Coriolanus and her were going to get along just right.

“Yes, the paper. I read it and was very impressed. Please get Clemensia and I would like to see the both of you in my office at the Citadel in exactly 10 minutes.” Gaul answered, completely ignoring everything Corilanus had said except for the paper.

Coriolanus smiled as he nodded, his eyes watching Gaul leave the room. When he went to grab his damaged and decaying satchel, he heard Highbottom speak for the first time since this conversation had started.

“You are just like your father, you know that boy?”

What?

“How did you know my father?” Coriolanus asked, confused.

Highbottom just chuckled to himself and smiled at Coriolanus, “Some things are best kept a mystery.”

Coriolanus just stared at him, perplexed. He realized that this conversation was going nowhere, so he started to leave when he was yet again stopped by hearing Highbottom's rough voice.

“Hey, good luck with that little songbird of yours. You're going to need it.”

Fuck off. 

“Thank you.” Coriolanus decided to keep his thought to himself, seeing as he didn't want to get another dermit.

“Coriolanus, know that I will do everything in my power to keep you from winning that Plinth Prize.” Highbottom said, calmly as he watched the boy continue to walk away from him, seemingly ignoring him.

“And know that I will do everything in my power to win and keep Rosalie Jade alive.” Corioanus told the man as he closed the door on him, giving Coriolanus the last word.

However, what Coriolanus didn't know was that Highbottom had been watching him during his interview with Rosalie Jade. How he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself, how he was getting closer to her. He didn't like that and feared for poor Rosalie Jade. For he was worried terrified that Coriolanus was more like his father than he originally thought. And that Rosalie Jade would suffer a similar fate to Juliet Snow, Coriolanus’ late mother.

“Could you at least give me a run down of the paper so I won't be completely clueless?” Clemensia pleaded with Coriolanus.

Had you done it with me, we wouldn't have this problem.

Coriolanus had got Clemensia just like Dr. Gaul had asked, and they were walking to the Citadel to see her. But since Clemensia had blocked herself off from what seemed to be the entire world after Arachne's death, she didn't write a single word on that paper. So Coriolanus was just informing her the basic gist of the paper and key points he wrote about.

“I can't believe you actually were able to even write anything or do anything for that matter after her death. I-I wasn't able to even sleep. I couldn't seem to do anything.” Clemensia said, looking down at her feet as they walked up the stairs to the Citadel.

“Well I couldn't sleep, that's how I was able to write it.” Coriolanus told her, not wanting to sound like a complete dick for not being sad over someone wanting to blackmail him, die.

Clemensia just hummed at him in response, keeping her head hung low as they followed someone to Dr. Gaul's office.

Maybe they were closer than I thought?

As the woman who guided them to Gaul’s office opened the door for them, Coriolanus quickly realized why the woman left them so hastily. Gaul’s office seemed to be more of a mad scientist lab rather than an office. It was covered from head to toe with odd and crazy looking animals, mutations, and in the far right corner there was a large case filled with some sort of fluid, holding what seemed to look like a human.

Its body looked mutated, its bone’s piercing through the skin, eyes bulging out of their sockets, holding onto dear life like the nerves trying to hold onto a young child’s extremely loose tooth. There were bald patches all over its body that showed signs of chemical burns, but where there was hair, feathers could be seen growing out of its body, giving it a hunched back form from the heavyweight of them. But its mouth. Oh its teeth had been melted into sharp fangs, blood stuck on the corner of its mouth. And as if there were invisible strings, it was smiling right back at Coriolanus. Looking him straight into his eyes, into his soul. As he got closer, he could see the pain and misery in its eyes. And that when he realized that it had no tongue.

It's an avox!

Bang!

“Ahh!”

Coriolanus quickly turned around at Clemensia’s shriek. She had gotten too close to one of the mutations and it had banged its head against the glass, scarning her. She hurried over to Corioanus and grabbed his arm, “I don't like this Coriolanus.”

“Neither do I.” He responded, holding her hand in an attempt to comfort her. While Coriolanus Snow wasn’t fond of many people, Clemensia Dovecote was one of the very few people Coriolanus tolerated being around, even though she had her moments.

“There you two are,” Gaul’s voice boomed. They both turned around quickly to see Gaul smiling creepily at them, “Follow me please.”

As they walked up to her, Coriolanus got a better look at some of the other mutations. The others are animals, or at some point in time, they were. There was a bird that had the body of a mauled lamb, and sharp claws like a lion. It was a bloody, disgusting mess.

“Do you like my mutts?” Gaul asked Coriolanus, catching him looking at them longer than Clemensia could stomach.

“What?” Coriolanus ask, confused.

“My mutts. Isn't it marvelous how something simple can be turned into something so beautifully dangerous?” Gial asked, dreamily.

Coriolanus simply nodded, not understanding how something so horrible looking could be seen as beautiful.

“Speaking of beautifully dangerous, I read your paper, and I must say I am very impressed by you two. Your ideas brought up good points, and gave me a new perspective of looking at the Games. How we can help the tributes, reap the rewards, and let them figure out the inner themselves. Individually, you both are good students, but together you show incredible potential.” Gaul said, smirking at them.

But right as Coriolanus and Clemensia went to thank her, she cut them both off, “You did both write this, correct?”

Shit.

Coriolanus knew that lying to someone as powerful as Dr. Gaul wouldn't go over well, so right as he went to confess, Clemensia interrupted him, “Of course we did, Dr. Gaul. Like I said on the day you assigned this paper to us both, we are partners, we always work better together.” 

No, you idiot! Don't lie to Gaul!

Coriolanus went to say something, only to yet again be interrupted by Gaul, “Wonderful. However it seems my incompetent assistant put your paper inside my new creations home,” As she said this, she pointed over to a beautiful, large, tall case, holding rainbow colored snakes, “You wouldn't mind getting it for me, would you Miss. Dovecote?” Gaul asked, tilting her head, lightly pushing her and Coriolanus towards the case and up the stairs.

Clemensia just looked at the snakes in horror, asking, “Is there a point to the color?” To this Gaul laughed, stating, “Oh there is a point there to everything my dear. For them, I found that having the victims of their bites see a rainbow of color before their death, giving them a false sense of hope, is more amusing than watching them just die.”

Clemensia just looked at the mad woman in shock, not knowing how to respond.

Because the only thing more powerful than fear is hope.

“Now, are you going to retrieve your paper or not?” Gaul asked, tilting her head amused.

Clemensia gulped, “But how is this safe. I don't want to get bit!”

“Oh, relax child. You won't get bit, it is completely safe.” Gaul told her, reaching her own hand in, letting a snake coil around her arm. So Clemensia slowly started to reach her shaking hand in.

“Oh course if they have your scent, which should not be a problem because of your paper. But, if they did not, well once might not want to stick their hand in there.” Gaul told her, and just as Coriolanus put the pieces together, he was too late, again.

“Ahhhhh!” Clemensia screamed in pain, falling backwards onto the ground with a harsh thud.

Coriolanus quickly ran to the edge of the railless staircase. “Clemmie!”

“So it was your sweaty palms who wrote the paper?” Gaul asked him, nonchalantly as Peacekeepers quickly came in and put a shot into her neck, carrying her away.

“What, yes, is she going to die?” Coripanus asked her frantically.

“Depends on how hard she fights. Now your ideas, I liked them, all of them. I have already talked to my team about incorporating the sponsor idea and how to get them food and water there, but your other ones might take more time. The betting will happen this year though and it shall be the pinnacle of this year's Games.” Gaul continued, not caring about how one of her own students just got bit by one of her own creations.

Coriolanus, still in shock from what had just happened, almost missed what she had said.

She liked them, all of them. And she is going to move forward with them, some of them this year! This Is it. This is how I help Rosie Jay!

So he answered with the only thing he could get out of his mouth, “Ok. Thank you.” Gaul just looked at him, amused. “You may go now, Mr. Snow. I wouldn't want you to be late to your next class.”

With that, he turned on his heel and started to leave rather quickly, wanting to get out of this lab from Hell. But as he reached the door he was stopped by Gaul's voice, “Coriolanus, in the future, don't ever lie to me again. It will not bring you anything good.” She said, all amusement gone.

He just nodded.

Last night had brought much stress to Coriolanus, he had to somehow find extra food that he didn’t have, and bring it to Rosalie Jade. He would worry about getting the guitar and dress to her later. But once he came home from the Academy last night and was given time to himself, the event finally sunk in. He had watched Clemensia get bit by a poisonous snake that Gaul made and let bite her. She let one of her own students get hurt and possibly die by one of her own creations, and didn’t give a flying fuck. He watched, yet again, another person he knew get hurt when he could’ve saved them. This is the second time and Coriolnaus wouldn’t let it be a third time, not with Rosalie Jade. He needed to save her because she would save him in more ways than one. 

So here he was, walking up to the zoo as he heard something lovely. 

“Down in the valley, the valley so low 

Late in the evening, hear the train blow 

The train, love, hear the train blow

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.” 

It was Rosalie Jade. 

“Go build me a mansion, build it so high 

So I can see my true love go by 

See him go by, love, see him go by 

So I can see my true love go by.” 

She was singing again. 

“Go write me a letter, send it by mail 

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail 

The Capital jail, love, the Capitol jail 

Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.” 

Good girl. 

“Roses are red, violets are blue 

Birds in the heavens know I love you 

Know I love you, oh know I love you 

Birds in the heavens know I love you.” 

“You have such a beautiful voice, Little Dove.” Coriolanus told Rosalie Jade as he walked up to the cage. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Snow. You as well.” She giggled. 

Coriolanus laughed, “Thank you, Miss. Baird. My grandma’am kept me up all night practicing to make sure that I hit all of my notes.” 

“Well I think you did an awful good job.” She smiled at him. 

Awful good?

Coriolanus just smiled back at her and to her backwards way of talking. “I brought something for you.” He finally said, reaching into his satchel to give her the food. 

“Ooh, yummy.” She said, making grabby hands at him in a cute way. 

“Here you go.” He said, laughing at her childish actions. He watched as she split it into halves. Thinking it was for him, Coriolanus got ready to put his hand out to take it, but instead, Jessup came up from behind her. He crouched down to her level, whispering something into her ear, and taking the other half of the sandwich. As Coriolanus watched in shock disgust as Jessup took his food, he noticed something on the boy’s neck. A bite mark. 

He watched him walk away in confusion. 

What bit him and when? 

He looked back at Rosalie Jade, who was content eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, “What was that mark on his neck, Rosie Jay?” He asked her. 

“Hm? Oh, Jessup? Yeah, he got bit by a rat on the first night here. They put rat poison around the cage, but the rats know to not go near it. He just came over to get some food and say thanks for letting him use the handkerchief.” She told him, finishing up her sandwich. 

“Oh.” He just responded. 

She let someone else use the handkerchief I gave her?

Rosalie Jade looked up at him, sensing his disappointment, “Sorry, it’s just that I didn't really need it and it would have helped Jessup more than me at the time.” 

Didn’t need it? 

“It’s okay, Rosalie Jade. I just thought the sharing ended at the food, my bad.” Coriolanus pettily replied. She just looked up at him, feeling guilty now that she had seen Coriolanus was upset with her actions. Coriolanus, while feeling bad that she felt guilty, felt powerful that she felt guilty because she had upset him. That she felt bad because she disappointed him and he felt amazing about that.

“So what song are you going to sing for your interview?” Coriolanus asked, changing the topic, not wanting her to feel too bad. 

“Oh, I uh, have a good one picked out.” She said, looking down. 

Shit.

“I’m sure whatever you sing is going to be amazing, just like you.” He said, racing his hand through the cage to lift her chin up to him.

“You really think so?” She said, her eyes tearing up.

“Of course I do, Little Dove.” He told her, smiling softly. She smiled back.

“Alright, let's go!” A Peacekeeper said. It was time for the mentors and their tributes to see the arena for the first and only time before the Games.

“I’ll see you there, Little Dove.”

He could have her feeling bad for a little longer. She gave away his gift to her, she needed to be punished somehow.

“Enjoy the show!”

As all the tributes and mentors walked in, the phrase, “Enjoy the show!” was heard. This was because the arena used to be a circus before the Dark Days, a circus where Coriolanus would occasionally go to before the Dark days.

Coriolanus and Rosalie Jade were near the end of the line, with Lysistrata Vickers and Jessup behind them. As they walked through the dark tunnel, Rosalie Jade grabbed Coriolanus’ hand, holding onto it for comfort. He held her hand back in a tight grip. And when they reached the final entrance to the arena, where there was light and cameras, she went to let go of his hand, but he held on tighter, not wanting to let her go.

She just looked up at him as the two of them went to their own area away from the others.

 As Coriolanus was looking around the arena, trying to find places for Rosalie Jade to hide, he felt her wrap her arms around his waist, nuzzling her head into his chest, crying, “Don’t leave me die in here, Coryo. Please.”

He quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer to him, whispering sweet nothings into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. When he realized that wasn’t working, he reluctantly pulled her away from his chest, “Hey, hey. Look at me Rosalie Jade. You’re not going to die in here, ok? I promised you that I was going to  get you home and I plan on keeping that promise. I’m not going to let you di-”

BOOM!

And just like that, the world seemed to stop.

Bomb time.

During the Dark Days, whenever bombs were going off, Tigris and Coriolnaus had named it Bomb Time. And that’s what  this is. Somehow, someway, bombs had gone off in the arena. Coriolanus had gotten flung away from Rosalie Jade and had no idea where she went.

“Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, only getting screams as a response, but no her screams. He kept looking for her, trying to find her to get her out. She would not be the third.

CRASH!

“Ahh! Help!” Coriolanus yelled. He was currently getting crushed by something and that something was on fire. It was burning through his clothes, burning his skin.

“Ahhhh!” He groaned. He kept trying to move it off of him, but to no avail.

This is it. I am going to die.

Just then, he saw a flash of color.

Rosalie Jade!

She had come back to him, but there was someone trying to pull her back, away from him to safety. It was Marcus.

“He wouldn’t save you! Go, get out while you can!” He yelled to her.

Of fuck you.

But Rosalie Jade pushed him away and went to Coriolanus, trying to lift the piece of rubble off of him. He knew by herself, she wouldn’t be able to get it off, so he started to push again. And after a few good moments of pushing, they got him free. He went to reach for her, to get her out of here, but she was quickly taken by Peacekeepers.

“No! Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, but then quickly collapsed from the pain and exhaustion just as a Peacekeeper came to get him.

“Shh, look. He’s waking up.” Coriolanus heard someone say.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Sejanus and Tigris hovering around him.

Where am I?

“Hey, Coryo,” Tigris gently spoke while caressing his face, “I was so worried about you.”

Oh.

“You missed Bomb Time.” Coriolanus told her, slightly joking.

“Yeah.” She just told him, laughing lightly as a single tear rolled down her face.

“I’m ok, Tigris. I promise.” He told her, looking at Sejanus, wondering why he of all people was here.

Promise.

“R-rosalie Jade, is-is she-” He struggled to get his words out, in fear that something had happened to her, and Tigris noticed this, swiftly cutting him off with, “She’s fine, Coryo. I just dropped off the dress and guitar for her interview.”

“They are still going on with the Games? Wait, interview? How long have I been out for?” He asked, wincing as he sat up with the help of Tigris.

“You’ve been out for almost three days, Coryo. And I know, it’s ridiculous, I can’t believe that they are still continuing with the Games. Hell, Felix is laying on his deathbed right now.” Sejanus ranted.

“Was anyone else hurt?” Coroilanus asked.

“Yes, many. A handful of tributes died, as did some mentors. The Apollo twins, they, um, they died. Most everyone else just got injured. One tribute got away. Mark, I think was his-” Tigris choked out, only to be cut off by Sejanus saying, “Marcus. His name is Marcus.”

Your tribute. The one that tried to get Rosalie Jade away from me.

“Right, Marcus. Sorry.” Tigris said, apologetically to Sejanus. No one knew what was going to happen to Marcus when he was inevitably found, but when he was, they knew it would be bad.

“And now, for our last interview, please welcome Rosalie Jade Baird! Get up here you little songbird.” Coriolanus looked up at the T.V. hanging on the wall when he heard Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman's annoying voice. And that’s when he saw her, or rather, the dress.

It was meant to be a 12th birthday gift for Coriolanu’s unborn baby sister, for when Tigris found out her aunt was pregnant, she was so excited and was just learning how to sew. She had sewn dresses for each of the unborn baby’s birthdays up until 21 years. She didn’t think much about measurements back then, she just wanted to sew and show her love. But when his mother and baby sister died, the Snow’s ended up burning them for warmth or selling them for food. However, Tigris couldn’t part with the 12th one or the 1st. Both were a beautiful, white dress made out of silk and tool. The represented what the Snow name was meant to be, what it had been. Beautiful, elegant, rich, and pure.

“Hello Capital, Districts. I wrote this song for some people back where I’m from and I hope they hear it.” She said, as Coriolanus walked closer to the T.V. with the help of Tigris. She looked beautiful, like a true dove. But the second she started singing, Coriolanus finally figured it out.

“My father never talked a lot

He just took a walk around the block

'Til all his anger took a hold of him

And then he'd hit

My mother never cried a lot

She took the punches, but she never fought

'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids"

So she did.”

Watching her up there on that stage, wearing his unborn baby sister’s dress, golden wavy locks shining in the lights, making her look like an angel, he finally figured out what she reminded him of on the first day in the zoo.

“I say they're just the ones who gave me life

But I truly am my parents' child.”

She was what his baby sister was supposed to be like. She was what Coriolanus was supposed to protect from the world. She was his little sister.

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line.”

Everytime someone had told him, “Good luck with that songbird of yours” or “Your tribute,” they were right. Rosalie Jade was his tribute. His girl. His Little Dove. She was his.

“It's hard to put it into words

How the holidays will always hurt

I watch the fathers with their little girls

And wonder what I did to deserve this

How could you hurt a little kid?

I can't forget, I can't forgive you

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me.”

He had let her down, according to her song at least. He let his baby sister feel hurt, get hurt. And he was so angry at this. Why would her own family hurt her, hurt someone, something beautiful and pure?

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line

From my family line.”

He had let her down. He had let her get hurt in this horrible world, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Ever.

“Oh, all that I did to try to undo it

All of my pain and all your excuses

I was a kid but I wasn't clueless

Someone who loves you wouldn't do this

All of my past, I tried to erase it

But now I see, would I even change it?

Might share a face and share a last name, but

We are not the same.”

He heard a sniffle from his right, and looked over his shoulder to see Tigris silently crying. Then he looked around the hospital and realized that it wasn’t just Tigris who was crying. No, all of the nursing staff was. The audience on the screen was crying and that’s when he saw her donations. He was so focused on her that he didn’t even realize that her donations were way past 1,000. The singing had worked. She had gotten the hearts of the Capital, of Panem.

“Scattered 'cross my family line

I'm so good at telling lies

That came from my mother's side

Told a million to survive

Scattered across my family line

God, I have my father's eyes

But my sister's when I cry

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family line

From my family line.”

“Well, ding, ding, ding! We have reached a record high donations for the evening. See what happens when you do stuff?” Lucky joked, walking back into frame, quickly wiping his tears. Rosalie Jade wearily smiled at him, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from her cerulean, doe eyes.

“Now I don’t love your odds, but may they be ever in your favor.” Lucky told her as he pulled her into a gentle hug that Rosalie Jade visibly relaxed into. She needed a good hug and the last time she was given one, she had watched her mentor be blown away from her.

Don’t touch her.

He let her go and flicked a coin into the air, stating, “I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, the Capitol’s weathercaster and amateur magician. This was the first ever Hunger Games: Tribute Interview.” He finished, catching the coin, and then the screen went black.

“Thank you for being here. Both of you.”  Coriolanus told Tigris and Sejanus, which was answered with Tigris giving Coriolanus a light reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and Sejanus saying, “Of course, it’s what friends are for.”

Coriolanus just ignored the friend's part because he was thinking about how he needed to pay his little sister a quick visit, as well as the newly destroyed arena.

“Rosalie Jade!” Coriolanus called out, softly.

“Rosie Jay!” He called again, but for no one to come out. He went to call out again, only to see something move in the darkness in the cage.

Oh thank God.

“Coryo! Oh, you’re safe!” She whispered, quickly  coming over to him and reaching her hands through to take his. He saw how her hands had some burns on them, but they seemed to have been treated with something.

“Yes, yes I am. Here I have something for you,” He told her, keeping one of his hands in hers and the other to pull out his mother’s compact, “Here, take this for the arena. It was my mother’s. I wanted you to have it so you can have something to remember me with. It always calms me down when I have something to look at that was someone’s who loved me.”

She smiled, but shook her head, “Thank you, Coryo. But I can't, it's too fine.”

“Please, take it. I will feel better knowing that you have this on you,” He told her, but quickly realized that she wouldn’t take it because she didn't want to take it from him forever, “Think of it on loan. When you get out of that arena after winning, you can give it back to me, ok?” He told her, trying to change her decision. He just wanted something that she could remember their mother by.

“Besides, you can use it to help yourself in the arena.” He told her, subtly shifting his eyes to the rat poison that was within reach to her and her slim arms.

She looked him in the eyes and nodded, getting the hint. He continued to look at her, not wanting to leave her just yet. Not again. He had already lost his sister once, and he wasn’t going to lose her again.

“Is this real?” He asked, eyes starting to water at the thought of losing her.

She nodded her head, “Yes, Coryo. This is real.” She might have meant it in a different way than Coriolnaus, but right now, he didn’t care. 

“Listen to me. I went back into the arena and looked around. The bombs completely destroyed it, meaning you have more places to hide. There is a vent system underground that you can hide in, it’s near the back right hand side of the arena. Get there by yourself, alone. Promise me. Promise me that you will get to safety the second that bell rings.” He asked her, to which she hesitantly nodded.

He grabbed her head and kissed her forehead, whispering, “I promise that I am going to get you out of the arena alive, back to your family, safe.” Which family that was, well she didn't need to now.

She just hugged him back and they stayed like that until he had to leave.

“I'll see you soon, my Little Dove.” He told her, walking into the darkness of the night.

“Alright, everyone, smile. It’s why we have teeth!” Lucky yelled, energetically to all the mentors.

Coriolanus just sat in his chair, anxiously. He was watching as all the tributes were walking into the arena. He watched as Wovey took Rosalie Jade’s hand, comforting her. How they smiled at each other only to be ripped away from each other by Peacekeepers.

“Ok, we are going live in 10, 9, 8…” Lucky told everyone, but Coriolanus was too concentrated on Rosalie Jade, who was walking up to her spot.

“Hello. I am Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, your Capitol news weathercaster and amateur magician. And I am very pleased to tell you that I am hosting the Hunger Games for the very first time. Exciting, right! Now, cameras have been placed inside of the arena so we can get all of the action!” He said, happily talking to the camera while he flipped a coin into the air, catching it after her finished talking. He then pulled out an envelope, stating, “Here in this envelope, I have predicted the winner of this year's Hunger Games and I will reveal it after the winner is announced.”

10

9

“Oh, it's starting! Let's watch together, shall we?” He quickly said, allowing the camera to go off of him and transfer to the cameras in the arena.

6

5

Coriolanus had one and only one thought when he heard that bell ring.

3

2

1

May the 10th Annual Hunger Games begin.

RING!

Run.

Next Chapter

#dark!coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader

[firstfirerebel]

𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠𝕣

Sumary: When Levi was forced to join the Survey Squad, he left someone behind, someone who had grown to hate him since then...

(Levi was forced to join the Survey Squad by Erwin, that's also why I don't like the ship Eruri [I love both, but together it's just toxic])

Pairing: Levi x fem! Reader

Warnings: Mention of abusive childhood, many traumas (bullying, mental abuse,...), angst, hurt

Years have passed since you last saw him. The guy you grew up with, and the guy who betrayed you.

Growing up was hard for both of you. You had more luck with the standard of the family, but still, your life was hard. Being the kid of two people who hated each other and only communicated by yelling and fighting wasn't exactly a good place for a child.

People around you always found something to mock and bully you. Kids your age were the worst. Except for him, you met Levi when you were forced to go to a club with your so-called father.

He never stopped drinking, so you just went to search for a silent corner to wait till this horror was over. But the only place that was at least a little bit calm was occupied with a dark-haired slim boy.

"Family problems?", you asked him.

"Something like that," he awnserd, and you silently walked towards and sat beside him.

"Wanna talk?,"

He shook his head for a 'No', which you totally got. You also wouldn't want to tell a literal stranger your deepest and darkest secrets, but on the other hand, letting it out would be better. It seemed like your whole life purpose was to hold the burdens of your family, no matter if you could take it or not.

"What's your name? I'm (Y/n). My siblings wanted that to be my name. It's ugly. I know,"

"Levi," he awnserd short and quietly.

"You know, my father is a lot here. It would be nice to have someone here I could spend my time with. Would you mind?",

He just blinked, which you got as a sign that he didn't care. But you weren't someone to give up just like that. Otherwise, you might have never managed to survive.

Breaking the ice was hard when it came to this boy, but after a few times of being there, he even told you that he actually liked your name and thought it was pretty. A little while after that, you caught him crying because some neighbor kids made fun of him (this was before his mother died, so he didn't know how to defend himself cause no Kenny). Those weren't new for you. They also constantly mocked you.

"Hey! Three against one? You're cowards!" After you managed to distract them from Levi, you tricked them into believing you went home when you really went to search for your friend.

You found him leaning onto a brick wall and sat beside him in silence.

"Thanks, but why did you do that?",

"Because it's OK if they make fun of me, but not if they make fun of my friends. I don't care what they do to me. I look out for you. And I know you look out for me. That's what friends are there for,"

Since that incident, nothing parted you guys. You even switched your birth necklaces to show that you were connected. But everything good must come to an end.

When his mother died, you didn't see him for weeks, so when you went to look for him, you met his uncle Kenny. You both pep him up again, and since your family didn't care about you, you decided to be with Levi since he needed someone after losing his mother.

Kenny taught you how to defend and provide for yourself, but that was it. He left you when you had learned it all.

"Even if he's gone now, we still have each other. Nothing really bad can happen to us as long as we have each other,"

It was you. Always you. You were the one who comforted him when he had to deal with shit. You were there for him to fix what society broke. And even after you allied with others, you two were the closest. No one could come in between.

That's what you thought.

After your team took Isabel in, you thought it would only become better. She even called Levi, her big brother, to his annoyance. It was like a sting right to your heart. But Isa didn't know what you both had gone through together, so you felt guilty of feeling this way. Besides her seeing him like her brother, didn't mean you were replaced! Your bond was stronger than that of siblings or lovers. Once you swore to never let anything part you, you'd never be separated, never.

Until one order changed everything.

You thought it was the Military Squad, but nope, it was the Survey Squad. You were the only one who managed to get away. But you watched from a distance how a soldier pushed Levi into a puddle of mud that had the consistency of water. Hell for him...

But when you went to go closer to hear what they were saying. You only heard Levis annoyed:"I'll join the Survey Squad."

A punch into your guts. He'd leave the underground. He'd leave you! Breaking the promise HE made you. And for joining a squad?!

You weren't someone who cried. When your whole body was covered in bruises because of a fight that didn't go as planned, no tear. Your family yelling and insulting you, no sob. But now your eyes became watery, and your vision blurry. It felt as if you were suffocated. Breathing was almost impossible.

As if the whole ground you believed to be steady and safe just tore open to devour you.

No, you wouldn't cry! Not because of him and especially not while still seeing him.

A few weeks after that, you luckily met Kenny again. It was more like he found you.

Since that scene, it was like you had to go through every trauma you experienced again, but this time on your own without someone at your side. Kenny told you of his new job at the Military Squad and that he could need a tough girl like you.

Training and years in hiding. That was your whole life from then on. With nothing on your mind, then to finally throw this damn birth necklace of him away. It was your kind of connection, your bond, after all.

Allying with the man that once left you and him. Just to tell humanitys strongest soldier one thing.

And finally, the day came. The Survey Squad decided to turn against the Military Squad. And that was your and Kenny's time.

Fighting your way to his side, just to slowly rip his birth necklace off your neck, look at him with disgust, and throw it into a mud puddle before his feet. With one word on your lips.

"Traitor"

#levi ackerman #reader insert #x reader #fanfic #dark themes #trauma #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #aot x reader #aot x female reader

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Fourteen

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

no tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen

AO3 Link

Author's Notes: Back from hiatus on April 26th! (Chapter 16 is just about polished and I finally made progress for chapter 17). I'm sending huge, huge thank you to my beloved beta and co-pilot, @vampire-exgirlfriend for all her love and support and kindness. There's been a lot of times that I've thought about stopping, about not continuing this story, about maybe just keeping it to myself. It's been her love and very aggressive 'that is DUMB' affection that has brought us close to the end of Arc I.

And a huge thank you to the people who have liked this story. I genuinely would love LOVE LOVE to hear your thoughts. In inbox is open, reblog and tag me, however you want to let me know that you're here <3

we are now entering the 'oh my god these too are so fucking into each other they want to fuck so bad it makes them look stupid' era

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Love the World Like I Should

Grandfather Rodrik shows up with love and gifts, and there's some smooching on the dance floor at Aegon's nameday feast. Also some political anxiety.

King’s Landing was filled to bursting in the days approaching Aegon’s nameday celebrations. Never had Abby seen so many people crush themselves into the Red Keep. ‘More will be at Harrenhal for the wedding’, Helaena had said, their small group seeking solace away from the gaggle of the court for a while. Baela had come with them, overwhelmed with the crush of noise herself, even if she did not admit it. The Princesses Targaryen, Abby, Wylla, little Floris, and Baela’s two ladies had all sought the quietest part of the gardens to hide from the increasingly aggressive attentions.

Now, though, Abby could not hide from the crush of people.

The Reyne retinue arrived in the early afternoon, and while an ancient and powerful house as theirs deserved their pomp, the familial presentation was for Rodrik Reyne, uncle to the Queen Alicent Hightower, and grandfather to the future Princess Abrogail Strong.

Grandfather to the potential future queen, as the whispers and rumors flew around the Red Keep with the coming celebrations. Rumors that Abby wasn’t sure would come to pass, but could not deny that the king’s wishes still might change. That was a future she wasn’t sure what to think about.

His hair was more gray than auburn, thick and wavy as if he were a man of twenty instead of near seventy. Lord Rodrik was tall and broad, an imposing figure on his gray and white courser, its fine white mane braided into little knots along the elegant arch of its neck. To see him and the king that was only feet away from her had a curl of unease snaking through her belly. To look at the king was to see a man wasting away, a man at death’s door. To see Rodrik Reyne dismount with fluid ease was to see a man who, while past the prime of life, clearly had so much left in him.

“Your Grace.” Lord Rodrik mounted the steps, arm clapped to his shoulder in the Westerland sign of fealty as he bowed. “It is good to see you in fine spirits, my king.”

“No finer time than to celebrate such a joyous occasion, Lord Rodrik,” the king said with a smile. Rodrik clasped Uncle Otto’s arm in a firm grip, pleasantries exchanged and his smile broadened as he bowed lower before Queen Alicent.

“You are the light of the seven, aren’t you, my dearest,” he complimented her, genuine to the core. The queen’s cheeks pinkened at the praise and she readily embraced her uncle, fingers grasping his arms.

“We are so glad you are here to celebrate, uncle,” she said. “I am pleased to see you in such fine health and I’m so sorry Aunt Dalla could not come.”

“It is a long journey and she is not as quick as she used to be. She was quite happy to stay back with Daerion and enjoy the children. I am their favorite, after all. It’s only fair that I give everyone else the opportunity to receive some attention.” Alicent blinked as she registered the joke, a chuckle spilling from her as her uncle pressed a kiss to her hand.

Aegon stood between his mother and Abby, and she felt more than saw him straighten up as Lord Rodrik turned his cool blue eyes on him. Age had not shrunk the man, and Lord Rodrik stood as tall as Uncle Otto, and though there was a far less threatening air to him, it made him no less intimidating. Aegon’s chin tilted up to meet the man’s eye and he inclined his head.

“It is good to see you, Lord Rodrik,” Aegon greeted, his voice polite and steady, when not two hours before, he’d been with her in the alcove behind the tapestry of Jonquil Drake frantic with nerves at meeting her grandfather. It seemed like the kisses she’d given him, as well as the growing bruise that was barely visible above the collar of his deep green damask doublet had not eased his worries. “I hope your travels were easy and without issue.”

The last time they’d seen any of the Reynes had been near a decade ago, at her mother’s funeral. They had spent time with her and her father at Harrenhal before coming down to King’s Landing to spend time with the queen and her children, and that event was entirely different than now.

“Good tidings on your nameday, nephew,” he returned with all the formality as if he were addressing him by princely title. “Our travels were well, and it’ll be good to be off the road for some time.” An expression of mischief danced in the pale gray-blue eyes of Rodrik as he assessed the prince before him, eyes catching on the bruise on Aegon’s neck and then glancing at Abby and the arm she had laced through his own. He raised a brow. “It would appear that your betrothal has made a man of you yet, my prince. I might even say you’ve grown an inch or two since I last saw you.”

Heat flushed through Abby’s face and Aegon’s own, his sputter brief and confused as the Lord gave him an amused look, as if he might ruffle his hair had Aegon been a decade younger. Instead, he gave another incline of his head before coming before Abby.

“You are most certainly taller than I last saw you,” he said, cupping her face in his gloved hands, the scent of horse and spice clinging to him as he kissed her forehead. Her hand slipped from Aegon’s arm to clutch at her grandfather’s crimson sleeves beneath his brown leather jerkin, warmth spreading through her chest at the gentle affection.

“Not much taller than this, I’m afraid,” she said, a light, awkward laugh. Her grandfather reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, where the rest of her hair hung in a long, simple braid down to the small of her back. He cupped her cheek, and she caught a shine in his eyes, a slow exhale as the familiar look of grief she knew well crossed his features, aging him in the moment. “I’m very glad to see you, grandfather.”

Rodrik Reyne nodded, pushing past the emotion before moving on to greet the rest of his nephews and niece, and she felt Aegon’s hand slide around her waist, fingers bunching slightly against the crimson and silver damask against her hip. She hid her hands in the belled sleeves, knotting them together and taking comfort from Aegon’s touch. Her chest ached painfully but she gave him a smile when he murmured her name.

“I am well,” she assured him, leaning into him momentarily before their party went inside, her grandfather speaking of the gifts he had brought for all of them.

Over the past days, it had been a bustle and flurry of becoming reacquainted with her grandfather, of suffering through her sister’s company. The apartments that she technically shared with her brother had served as the hub for the activity of their family. Houses Strong, Reyne, and Lannister moved in and out of the modestly decorated space. It had been overwhelming, but with the arrival of her grandfather, Cory’s acerbic tongue and judgmental looks had been averted, and Abby wondered if there was jealousy hidden beneath all that venom. She had fallen into her own acquaintance with the Queen, whom she had known when she’d served as one of Rhaenyra’s ladies when they were young.

Abby also had to organize the gifts brought from the Westerlands that would be sent back with Uncle Simon. Bolts of fine cloth of gold and silver from the expansive Reyne mines, a peregrine falcon, lovely cream and gray with black specks and bright black eyes she’d named Caelus. There’d been books too. A small chest carved with mountains and flowers contained five books, mostly from Myr, and some from Braavos, including what looked to be an interesting treatise from a Volantine woman who advocated for the importance of women’s contributions, and another on teaching woman to cultivate what she had determined as useful qualities, to achieve worthy acts in their lives.

‘A woman’s success,’ it read, ‘depends on the ability to manage and mediate by speaking and writing eloquently and effectively, for men so easily dismiss the thoughts of women, especially when their power is threatened by them.’

Perhaps she should look to promoting more copies of the sumptuously illustrated work. Perhaps she might even try her hand at replicating some of the images therein. There’s been a box of paints and new charcoal among the gifts, as well as a newly bound book for her to sketch in. Abby smiled at the idea, and had tucked it away for later.

“Mind the dress,” Wylla’s voice came from behind, already dressed for the feast and bossing about the red-clad maids of the holdfast who had been helping Abby as she worked to put together her household. Theraxis lay reclined along the end of the bed, his great yellow eyes watching the flurry of maids with such focus as if he too were supporting Wylla’s orders.

“Only a single lady?” Grandfather had balked, perceiving insult before she’d hurriedly cut in, explaining Wylla was more than enough, she did not want to be demanding, and hadn’t needed anyone else.

Wylla had snorted, eyes flashing in the familiar argument. “She’s meant to be looking for more ladies over the course of the festivities,” with all the same annoyance aimed at her as she had aimed at Aegon in the courtyard so long ago. “She needs six at least, but will she listen to me? Nay, she’s a wee stubborn thing and Lord Larys doesn’t seem to push it either.”

The gifts had not stopped there, and she was currently staring, wide eyed, at the most recent one.

The ornate wooden box before her was made of varnished rosewood, with inlays of silver decoration along the edges, and an equally delicate lock that her grandfather had carefully opened with a tiny silver key. The tiara that lay inside was fit for a queen. Ten citrine sunbursts wove together like flowers, the colors of them running from red to gold to orange and in the center of each, diamonds glittered. It sat in the center of the box, resting on a cloth of silver pillow and her mouth went dry.

“Th-this is too much. Grandfather…” Abby’s voice faltered and she lifted her gaze to meet his. Never had she felt so spoiled, so doted on. She felt guilt for it, the way it warred in confusing uncertainty. So long she had never asked for more, and it wasn’t as if Larys was a doting brother who snuck her sweets and trinkets the way Harwin had.

Her grandfather’s gaze was a mixture of annoyance, affection, and more that she did not understand. “It is most certainly not too much, dear child,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. Wylla slightly raised her eyebrows when he wasn’t looking and gently lifted the tiara from the box. “You are the blood of Castamere. You are my blood, my granddaughter,” he had said, cupping her cheek in a warm, rough hand and pressing a loving kiss to her brow. “The realm would do well to remember that you are a Reyne just as the queen is. It is not simply Hightower blood no matter how much my good brother likes to pretend.”

At least her grandfather was honest and she could not blame him for that. This was how the game was played. This was how power was brokered, even Abby understood the simple truth of it. Unlike most, Rodrik Reyne did not hide his motives, and the care that he expressed towards her since his arrival a few days ago had proven genuine. He did not ask her for favors, had inquired about her wellbeing and made sure she had what she was owed to her station.

Wylla’s nimble fingers had ensured the tiara was settled in her hair, twists of braids securing the citrine that matched her hair. The Riverlands style was one that she was glad not to give up and she would not have anyone thinking she was anything but the daughter of the rivers, and now a child of Castamere.

Her grandfather had escorted her down to the queen’s party. The king and her brother and uncle were already in the throne room and she could hear and feel the buzzing of growing anticipation as they approached the antechamber. Her hand rested in the crook of her grandfather’s elbow and her fingers spasmed with nerves. His hand found hers and she looked up at him, mouth parted as if to speak. He smiled at her instead.

“You look so much like your mother,” he said softly, his blue eyes misty and his smile warm. It took Abby aback. She had not seen the Lord Hand smile so openly and honestly. Larys barely smiled and when he did it made her wish to avoid it more often than not. The last man who smiled at her in such openness was her father. “She is here with us and she would be so proud of you.”

“Would she approve of this?” Abby asked softly. It was a silly question, the kind of question a motherless child who could barely remember her own mother asked. She could see the queen through the doorway at the end of the hall, hear Helaena’s laughter echoing along with Daeron’s.

Her grandfather paused and seemed to steel himself. The emotion was plain on his face. The grief was palpable and he did not meet her eyes as he composed himself. “Your mother was in the very fortunate position where I could let her choose who she wanted to marry. She could wait, and find a match that she got along well with. Lord Jason was a possibility, but even if your mother wanted to marry him, I couldn’t let her resign her future to a foppish imbecile like him, Lannister seat or not. She fell in love with your father and he did not demand heirs of her or money or prestige. He simply wanted someone to spend his days with and they found that in one another. That is what your mother wanted for you. A world where you were safe and loved.”

He cupped her cheek and Abby lifted her hand to hold his, feeling her own tears threaten. “The future has one certainty and there will be hard choices to make. Know that your family stands behind you, and that you may be a Riverlands girl, but there is a lion inside of you. They say in the north wolf packs survive together. You are part of a pride and are just as fierce. Dragons could not take the Westerlands and fire cannot burn the rivers.”

“He won’t burn me,” Abby said softly. “I trust him. I… care for him. I want him, not for a title, not for whatever the future may bring. I simply want him and he wants me and we just want to be happy. I think we can make each other happy, Grandfather.”

“Good,” he said and dropped his hand. “Then should the Stranger take me this night, it will be knowing you will be happy.” He gave her a watery laugh, amusement on his face. “And should he mistreat you, then I will haunt him to madness.”

When they entered the antechamber, Lord Rodrik pressed a kiss to her hand and went to join the rest of the gathering in the throne room. Helaena was in conversation with Daeron, and Aegon…

Aegon turned to look at her upon her entrance and his face went slack. She blushed, smoothing her hands over her gown, watching as the candlelight shimmered over the green and blue layers of the skirt, the fabric diaphanous, like currents of water around her legs. Her fingers found the golden dragons embroidered over her waist, intermingling with the glittering red weirwood leaves, worrying at the material. Her slippers were as gold as the dragons on her bodice, peaking out beneath her hem as she closed the distance between them. Aegon reached for her and she slid her hand into his and watched the smile spread slowly across his face.

‘I think we can make each other happy.’

Abby was not meant to be on Aegon’s arm as they entered the feast. He should have been escorting his mother as protocol dictated since King Viserys had entered the feast already. It was a heady feeling to know Aegon would not let her go, even as he was forced to drop her hand so she could tuck hers into the crook of his arm. A thrill that continued down her spine and coiled in her belly with the rest of the bursting butterflies dancing inside that gave her the strength to tilt her chin up as all her lessons instructed her to do. The perfect posture, the perfect gait all came rushing to her in a way that she finally understood why it mattered.

The pride that she felt wasn’t about being Queen Alicent’s pet project, or even that she had somehow snagged a prince for a betrothed. She was Lady Abrogail, heir to Harrenhal, the legacy of her mother’s fierceness and her father’s wisdom. As they walked behind the queen and Lord Otto, Abby squeezed her hand along Aegon’s bicep. She was the daughter of the Riverlands, and Aegon was lucky to have her, for there were many others that she could be with.

He looked at her with clear and bright eyes, the lilac full of mirth in a way she hadn’t seen from him in so long, and there were broad smile lines around his mouth, the flash of white teeth as he grinned at her. His hair was freshly washed, the silver curls gleaming gold in the sea of candleglow. His doublet was new as well - a fine, black silk brocade with a pattern woven in that evoked a shimmer of dragon scales. Golden clasps in the shape of dragon heads gleamed down the center. The seams were piped with red silk, and red silk trim embroidered with golden dragons wrapped around from the center and over his back. The same embroidered trim encircled his sleeves, which were slashed open along the back of his arms from bicep to the buttoned cuffs, the Targaryen red brocade of his shirt beneath poking through.

For the first time, he wore a crown upon his brow. It was a hammered circlet of gold that rested gently around his head, interspersed with seven circles stamped with dragons. Before the realm, he truly looked like the prince that he was.

A son who was celebrated by his parents.

She was lucky to have him. Let them see it. Let Queen Alicent see how brightly they made one another smile when they got to choose one another. Let them see she was not beholden to The High Tower, or to the Targaryens, or to anyone. Let them see that for all they may want to whisper about machinations and intrigue, she wanted him, and he wanted her.

Abby curtsied deeply before the king before they took their seats. Aegon was on his father’s left hand - the place of honor for the evening, and she was beside him. ‘How lucky we are’, came the thought again. She had not realized she had spoken the words aloud until Aegon’s grin widened into a beaming smile, his eyes crinkling with his own joy.

This was how the past weeks should have been. This is what the welcoming feast to Lord Tully and his party should have showcased: the two of them united, happy now, even as they set out to figure out what their marriage would be, what it would look like. There was enough time for that.

“You know, people like us don’t marry for love often,” Wylla had said, words that had stuck to her ribs.

The queen, her brother, and her uncle did not care for her and Aegon’s happiness, that much was startlingly clear to Abby. They had not come together in this betrothal by choice, but beneath the heart tree, they had made a promise. They had made their choice.

As her elder sister, Corynna, and her husband, Erwin Lannister sat beside her, Abby wished for the comfort of Wylla and Heleana at her side. The latter was at the other end of the table, and Abby’s gaze sought the friendly face of the young woman at the table below.

Wylla sat with Uncle Simon and Aunt Mya, looking striking in her black velvet gown. It was cut in the southern style, the neckline edged in white and silver cut across the line of her shoulders, her raven hair twisted into three rope braids woven with white ribbon and strung with pearls. She looked like a dream, Abby thought. A maiden of winter with all her pale skin and dark hair; striking in a way that many other women were not and Wylla wore it well. Harrion was beside her, his head inclined toward a lovely, red haired woman beside him. Wylla had said that his betrothed, Lady Alys Bracken, had only just arrived. She was so slight next to the northman’s bulk, her smile soft, eyes crinkling at the corners as she laughed at something he said.

Wylla caught her eye and sent her a warm, reassuring smile that Abby returned with a little wave, uncaring of decorum at the moment with how shaky her nerves were starting to get now that everyone was staring up at her. Her dear friend had not shied about her own discomfort in crowds, declaring her own relief that she was not the one who would be center of attention in her teasing, sharp yet fond way.

A harsh pinch against her left arm made Abby jump and she turned sharply to look at her sister, who was smiling serenely as if nothing was amiss. “Stop it, you’re behaving like a child,” she hissed behind a gritted smile. “I’ll not have you shame me.”

“If returning a kind gesture and a greeting to someone across the room is childish, then I cannot imagine you have many friends, Corynna, that do not cling to your skirts.” She smiled at her sister, whose saccharine falseness turned quickly to annoyance. “Do mind yourself, Cory. You are not my mother, nor my guardian.”

She caught the sidelong glance Aegon gave her and she felt his warm hand on hers, drawing it to his mouth to press a kiss against her knuckles. Abby felt the spray of heat along her throat, pressing her lips tightly together to keep from biting at her lip and being too obvious. He kept hold of her hand, thumb running lightly along her knuckles in familiar reassurance, and leaned in to speak softly against her ear.

“Lady Abrogail, if that’s the kind of behavior you plan on keeping up, as your husband, it shall be my duty to discipline you for such talk.”

Abby’s mouth went dry, her flush deepening and she glanced up at him, demure beneath her lashes. “Prince Aegon, you get ahead of yourself. I am the image of propriety.” He smirked and they both drew back. Abby reached for her goblet to calm the different sort of butterflies fluttering through her stomach now.

The echo of a staff cracking against the stone floor of the hall reverberated through the hall and all fell silent as the king rose, the queen beside him in what was meant to be a show of unity. But Abby knew that she was there to steady him so he did not have to rely on his cane. The black, red, and gold robe he wore nearly swallowed him whole, and she wondered how heavy it was for him.

Beside him, Alicent Hightower wore the colors of her house instead of a glow of green. She was as regal as Abby had ever seen, in a storm gray damask gown with white flame embroidery along her neck and shoulders. A cape of gray silk felt about her and the gray sleeves of her gown hugged her arms until they flared out at her forearms to bell around her wrists. Her auburn hair was twisted back on the sides of her head before coming to a single twisted braid down her back. Upon her head rested her crown of state. It was a gold circlet with seven points of golden flame rising from it and in the center flame was a blood red ruby that matched the gold and ruby earrings dangling beneath her hair.

“Be welcome,” the king said. His voice had rarely been a strong one, but he had found the strength behind it to let the words carry now. “It is good to see so many happy faces here, as we come together to celebrate my son, Prince Aegon’s nameday.” He turned his head to look down at Aegon with a nod and a gap toothed smile that, while fleeting, was genuine. The people clapped, thumps on tables shaking the cutlery, and Abby grinned at him. Aegon looked taken aback by the well tidings, the shouts of wishes for good health and good fortune. The hand that he had rested on her knee tightened and Aegon straightened in his seat, smiling back and giving a wave of thanks as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him.

The King continued, “The Queen and I also honor House Strong this night. Since my ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, landed upon these shores, the Strongs have been a leal and loyal house. Ser Osmund Strong himself was the longest serving Hand, and through the decades, this family has proved themselves time and again, their fealty to the throne and their dedication to the realm. It is why upon the passing of the beloved Princess Rhaena, that my grandfather, King Jaehaerys, bestowed the great Harrenhal to House Strong. It is this dedication that before he passed, our late Lord Lyonel Strong, the Seven keep him, agreed to a proposal. We welcome you all to celebrate with House Targaryen and House Strong as I announce the betrothal of our son, Prince Aegon, to the Lady Abrogail Strong, and their investiture as the future Lord and Lady of Harrenhal, under the wise and clement eye of Grover Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.”

The whispers of the betrothal had already snaked their way through the keep over the past weeks. First the servants gossip, then the unofficial talks among the lords who had, by now, sent ravens back home to their holdings in the Riverlands. It was news that had passed naturally among the realm, and while Abby did not see any surprised faces, the cheers that roared up took her by surprise. The slamming fists on the tables, the clapping, the shouts of well wishes and even some crass remarks was not at all what she had expected. She felt her cheeks burn and the flush of it snake across all the exposed skin of her gown. She yearned for the coverings of her linen gowns so none could see how red she had turned at the attention.

Yet, Abby did nothing to hide how large her smile was, so wide it nearly hurt. She met Aegon’s eyes, his own grin crinkling the corners of his eyes, and she never, ever wanted to see him frown again if this was how bright his smile could be. He then looked at the crowd and she followed suit, waving at the smiling faces, blowing a kiss of thanks to all. She did not startle when Aegon lifted his hand from her knee to tuck beneath the fall of her curls and rest along the back of her neck in a possessive gesture that made her belly roil with heat. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and saw that his bright smile had set into something darker, more firm.

The feast began, servants coming out of the shadows. Trenchers of roast pork in red wine and plum sauce were placed before them, steaming with scents of ginger and cinnamon. Shrimp cooked in fennel and white wine steamed from large platters, boiled eggs cut and stuffed with fragrant cheese and herbs nestled among salads of other fresh herbs and greens. Abby gasped, admiring the hollowed out Stormland lemons with glistening pieces of Dornish blood oranges and lemon sticky with sugar dotted the table in pops of bright, delectable color.

Aegon was eagerly filling his plate with the roast pork he so adored, and she reached for one of the sour orange treats, popping a sticky piece of fruit into her mouth and hoping it calmed the knot of nerves that were growing insistently.

“They certainly spared no expense,” Corynna’s voice was soft at her side. Abby glanced over at her sister who was commenting on the wine being poured to her husband. Her sister was as beautiful as she was sharp, resplendent in the colors of House Lannister, a ruby red gown that set off her golden skin, and an overdress of golden silk. Her brunette curls were tamed and pulled back into a low bun at the base of her neck, encased in a jeweled net of gold and rubies, a heavy lion pendant hanging from her throat. She decided not to engage with her sister’s low commentary, for it was exactly what she wanted, and instead busied herself on the treat in front of her.

“Here.” Abby glanced at Aegon, who held his fork up with a piece of pork. She opened her mouth to decline, and he popped the piece in with that dangerous smirk flashing across his mouth before going back to his food. It was good, the spark of ginger cutting through the sweetness of the plum. It had also served to get her mind off the fact that they were eating at the head table, and she let her gaze drift, ignoring her sister’s tut of disapproval.

Abby caught Baela looking at them curiously. She was beautiful that evening in the colors of her mother’s house. The aquamarine gown was cut in the Pentoshi style like the previous one she wore to their family dinner, with a deep v cut into the bodice and the layers of fabric pinned like a chiton at her shoulders. On her head she wore a silver tiara shaped into the heads of seahorses with matching gemstones for their eyes. Abby gave the princess a small smile. “You look lovely tonight, Princess. I am truly glad to have you here and I look forward to us getting to know one another.”

Baela’s violet eyes narrowed somewhat at being addressed, and Abby felt Aegon shift beside her as he honed in on the conversation. “May your futures be bright and happy, Lady Abrogail. Cousin.”

“Thank you, cousin,” Aegon replied with his tight smile. “Perhaps it will be your nuptials we’ll be celebrating next.” The words were friendly, at least somewhat so. Abby suppressed a sigh, but knew it was at least a small win. Baela did not seem to mind sitting next to Daeron, for the pair of them had fallen into a discussion about their dragons and how Tessarion had fared in Oldtown. “I heard Mother wondering if her and Jace will wed next.”

Jacaerys.

Abby chanced another look at the incredibly awkward end of the table. There was the queen, then Lord Otto, then Larys, and then… Aemond, Helaena, and Jace. The three of them were utterly silent, like mimes in a play, and it was hard to tell what made it worse: the fact that Aemond and Jace had ended up wearing near matching doublets that evening, or the sapphire sun that was Helaena between them.

Aemond and Jace and Baela should have been separated, but Jace could not sit next to her, for the rumors that would cause and so poor Helaena was stuck as the wall to separate them.

She looked every inch the beautiful princess from a song. Her silver hair hung loose and free down her back with four braids keeping her hair from her face. The twists wound themselves into the silver tiara she wore, the sapphires winking out like stars from the woven metal strands that took the place of her usual braid. Her gown was diaphanous silk, her shoulders bared. The sleeves were a light blue and the sheer fabric hugged her arms. The gown went from a lovely sky blue to a deeper shade of twilight along the hem, and the silver embroidery evoked silver flames dancing across the gown. She wore the colors of Dreamfyre, dragonrider that she was, the princess of House Targaryen that did not need to evoke her house colors to state her place in the world.

The look on her face was blank and somewhat wide-eyed, focused on the shrimp in front of her. Abby’s heart ached, wanting to go to her and get her out of the situation she was in, but there was nothing for it. Helaena already grew anxious with crowds and she didn’t need the extra stress of being caught between two petulant looking boys.

Jace tilted his head towards her, saying something that drew a small smile from Helaena, and the knot of worry eased slightly.

The course was cleared away, the minstrels along the side gallery merrily playing songs from each of the realms present there today. Currently it was a Westerlands tune, fewer drums than the melodies of the Crownlands, and Abby caught Lord Tyland’s head bobbing to the music from his place at his twin brother’s side.

The next course was brought out and it was the largest pie Abby had ever seen, along with pottage of wild hare and cabbage, roasted lamb smelling of caraway and fennel and thyme. There was roasted chicken in orange glaze. Her gaze returned to the pie. It was as big as a wagon wheel, the pastry crust browned and caramelized and surrounded by many smaller pies like a crown. The crusts were slivered all around and gilt in gold along the top, and she could smell the saffron and cloves. They were stuffed to the bursting with more eggs and mixed meats and smelled delicious, but Abby’s stomach was knotted with nerves combined with the heady twist of arousal that pulsed every time Aegon’s knee bumped hers, or the way he’d tap his fingers upon her wrist to make sure she was alright.

Aegon inclined his head towards her, waving the servant away and pushing his plate between them. “You’re not eating. We’ll share.” He even pressed his goblet into her hand, taking hers and sipping from it in such an intimate gesture that Abby’s nerves were utterly forgotten about in that moment. She took a sip from his goblet, unsure of what to say. Aegon raised an eyebrow at her. “Eat,” he ordered and she knocked her slippered foot against his boot.

“You’re eating enough for the both of us, Prince. I couldn’t possibly keep up with you.” His appetite was a voracious one, and the plate he’d pushed between them had already started inching back towards him. She stabbed a piece of meat and gave him a look as she ate. He looked only somewhat abashed and popped a piece of crust in his mouth, licking juice from his fingers. She was reminded of the lakeside picnic, and the way his lips felt against her fingers while she fed him, the blushing heat as he fed her cakes in return and the kisses shared.

It must have shown on her face because a wicked gleam flashed across his eyes, gaze drifting to the low neckline of her gown and the gentle swell of her breasts. A voracious appetite indeed. He laughed when she busied herself with her goblet.

“Everyone is staring,” she whispered, unsure if she was chastising him or reminding him. Aegon’s gaze raked along the bare expanse of her shoulders, his hand twitching along his stolen goblet as if he was keeping himself from reaching for her again.

“Of course they are, hunītsos. Let them. Let them see how happy you look.” His gaze grew uncertain for a moment and she understood what words he held back.

“How happy you make me,” she offered softly. It was finally Aegon’s turn to blush, the expression uncharacteristically shy, and Abby could not help but lean over to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. Satisfaction was bright in her chest when his blush deepened before his own satisfaction crossed his features.

Let them witness. Let Edmund Vance and whatever moody River Lord conspired against them see that Aegon was hers, claimed by the rivers.

“Prince Aegon,” Erwin called halfway through the following course - mutton and stag and boar drenched in plum and wine sauces, brown sauces, and surrounded with dates and figs. The youngest Lannister brother was a gleaming gold lion, square faced with bright green eyes. He was not lanky as Lord Tyland nor as haughty as Lord Jason. He was a third son, bred for battle, and while he did not appear to cross swords with her sister, Abby wondered if that was a battle he had no desire to engage in. “I hear you’ll be participating in the melee on the morrow. Do you wield a morning star like Ser Criston, then? Or perhaps a battle ax?”

Corynna tutted, leaning back with exaggeration so her husband might speak. “It was only a matter of time before we talked swords.”

“The Prince is admirable with his sword skills, Erwin,” Abby piped up proudly before Aegon could speak, her turn to boast of him as he had done for her.

Aegon’s hand rested along the back of her chair as he leaned over with a grin on his face. “Some could say. It’ll either come down to skill or my lady’s favor, should she grant me. Mayhaps I’ll have the good fortune of meeting you in the ring?”

“Everyone knows the joust is where one proves themselves,” Baela cut in.

“Prince Daemon was quite impressive with his blade in the last tourney I saw him in, just as he was with a lance,” Erwin said with ease and a smile. “All the bouts require their own skills and strength.”

The conversation of the small tourney for tomorrow kept on, with Daeron joining in. Abby ignored her sister’s displeased muttering and her husband did as well. Perhaps that’s how the peace was kept in their household.

As the dessert course came out, those in attendance began to move about the room. No doubt they were eager to speak of the confirmation of what had been announced, judging by all the gazes that flitted in their direction. There were her favorite strawberry and cream cakes just out of reach, but she found that she had no appetite for the rich confection with the nervous energy building. Instead, she snagged a piece of marchpane dragon off Aegon’s piled plate of treats. He playfully snapped at her as if he was going to bite at her hand before handing her a marchpane crown without comment.

She leaned towards Aegon, brushing his ear and delighting in how he shivered at the contact. Her fingers tapped against his arm. “I’m going to speak to Wylla.”

He reached up to snatch at her wrist. “Stay,” he murmured, eyes searching her face. Don’t leave me alone next to him, she knew he was asking. Abby shook her head.

“We have to mingle, Aeg, We can’t sit up here all night.” He rolled his eyes and Abby tutted. “Go rescue Helaena.”

Aegon glanced down at the miserable end of the table and they spied Gwayne having come up, a hand braced on Aemond’s shoulder as he spoke to Larys and his father. “I’m surprised Aemond hasn’t stabbed him yet,” Aegon muttered and gave a nod. “Is this to be our duty now, my lady?”

Abby scrunched her face up in amusement and took his offered hand to rise from her chair. “Aye, it shall be, my lord. Save me a dance.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and they parted, Aegon going to join his uncle and siblings at the end of the table. She tilted her head, admiring him as he walked from her before heading towards Baela.

When Abby looked at Baela, she was reminded by the statue of Visenya that Aemond favored so in the gardens, or the tapestries that hung in the upper levels of the gallery: women who rode the skies with braids twisted into their long hair, the fierce and determined looks on their faces showing their command of the world. Targaryens were the closest one came to gods in Westeros. This fact Abby had grown with all her life. Everyone in Westeros did. She saw how the smallfolk clamored for the affections and attentions of the dragonriders during parades, the furrowed brows of the septons who disliked the competition to the Seven.

“Princess,” Abby gave the other a bright, welcoming smile. “Come with me, I have someone to properly introduce you to.” There was deference in her tone that Baela was owed, but Abby also clung to the reminder that she was to be a princess too. They would be equals in a few months, and the Queen wanted her to grow accustomed to this fact.

Baela, her lovely, violet eyes narrowed in her direction, seemed to have other ideas. Abby had asked Helaena the other evening what it was that Baela had said in Valyrian, and the princess had only said that she should not worry, for she did not believe Baela would speak so carelessly in the future. The other woman held her gaze, assessing in the way Abby was sure her dragon, Moondancer, would assess and Abby swallowed past the lump of nerves beneath the gaze. She realized after a moment that it was one of uncertainty. It had initially felt hostile - which considering whatever Valyrian she’d spoken upon arrival had been clearly hostile, it made sense - but it had also become clear that the princess was uncomfortable and therefore more judgemental, Abby thought, than she might normally be. At least, Abby hoped that was the case.

“You have people to introduce me to, Lady Abrogail?” The disdain was not obvious, and Abby wondered if this was what it meant to be unaccepted by the Valyrians. The family had kept to themselves since the landing. She had studied the Targaryen family tree in her studies and knew how rarely they married out of the houses. ‘The blood of the dragon must remain pure’, was stated when they’d learned about the Doctrine of Exceptionalism that allowed the practice of incest, and outlawed the multiple wives that The Conqueror and King Maegor had taken.

Would Aegon have wanted multiple wives? Would he have wanted someone more Valyrian to make him feel closer to his heritage? The curious thought flitted through her mind, and Abby felt a stab of jealousy at the idea of such a scenario, along with an uncertainty she couldn’t quite identify, but similar to the feeling of otherness that she found herself experiencing among the company of the other Riverlanders.

“I do. I hope, very much so, that your time here in the capital will be as comfortable as possible. I understand that it must be quite the change from Dragonstone, and the company of the rest of your siblings.” Baela said nothing at first, lips pressed in a thin line before looking down the table. Abby followed her gaze.

Jace and Helaena had a series of tarts and other confections in front of them, and Helaena was laughing brightly at the marchpane tentacles rising from a plum tart. Jace plucked one of them, slathered in cream to take a bite, offering the piece to Helaena who shook her head in amusement and reached for one of the candied lemons.

Aegon had pulled his brother away with a firm grip on his shoulder and the pair of them had headed towards the floor, goblets in hand with heads bowed towards each other. They were accompanied by some of the other young men at court; the Fossoway boys, Ser Leo Costayne, brother to Lord Owen, and their cousin, Lyonel Hightower, heir to the Oldtown seat.

Ser Leo was the eldest at over twenty, his almond eyes from his mother’s Lyseni heritage striking with the silver hair of Valyria that spread across the empire. He had already earned the title of The Sea Lion, the West taking pride in their own fierce seafarer as House Velaryon did with The Sea Snake, Lord Corlys. Little Floris had found him handsome, blushing when her avid gaze had been pointed out by Helaena. Abby had found herself readily agreeing.

At four and ten, Lyonel was as tall as Aemond with the promise to be taller, with the same cut cheekbones Abby could see was a Hightower feature, while Alicent, Aegon, and Helaena shared the soft roundness of their Reyne mother. His skin was swarthy from his Dondarrion mother, a contrast with his lighter brown hair. Her eyes drifted to the group of ladies, colors of the Reach and Westerlands in their clothes, and how they clearly were eyeing Prince Aemond, who was doing his best to pretend to be above it.

Far better for their attention than that of Cassandra Baratheon, who was stoically sitting by her heavy set father, face flushed with wine and quietly hissing at his eldest daughter. An unbidden pang of sympathy pulsed through Abby’s heart at how unhappy the other woman looked, momentarily overriding her displeasure.

Abby turned her gaze back to Baela, whose own eyes were sweeping the mass of people before them. She wondered if the rumor was true of a possible betrothal between Jacaerys and Baela, the future king and queen of the realm. Dragonriders both, in the Targaryen ways of old like Aegon and his wives, like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. She wondered if it had happened already and was simply unannounced, Rhaenyra waiting for the most opportune moment. Or perhaps the pair were simply siblings, mayhaps promises made out of stubborn pride. Would that explain Baela’s disdain for them? Did she see them as interlopers in a place that she considered her birthright by conquest and the Valyrian blood flowing through her?

Baela finally rose, fluid and graceful and confident in all the ways that Abby still found it difficult to be. The other woman stood a few inches taller - not a difficult feat by any means, but Abby was envious of the graceful turn of her neck. She was reminded of the descriptions of Visenya: comfortable in silks as she was in armor. What a sight the other would make upon dragonback with a war cry tearing from her. How confident Baela Targaryen was;in her sense of self, her place in the world, in all that made her Valyrian.

It struck Abby then how she did not feel like a child of the Riverlands no matter what she claimed. It felt as if she were spinning falsehoods into a cloak to shroud herself in, to distract from her own sense of confusion. As they approached the closer table where her Uncle Simon sat with the Brackens, listening to the conversation blend before her in the lilt and familiar cadence of the Riverlands, Abby found herself feeling like an outsider. It had not quite been like this at the welcoming feast those weeks ago, where they spoke the language of the capital. Her mother tongue had been one lost to her over the years since her father died, relegated to the dinner table and bedtime stories, of ephemeral memories of lullabies long sung. To hear Wylla’s own northern brogue share in the words of Old Tongue falling in a similar harmony, panic settled in Abby’s chest to find that she couldn’t quite keep up with the words exchanged.

The panic was frozen when Wylla turned her head, and all at the table gave move to rise and give their courtesies to Princess Baela. Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Baela shift a little, felt the whisper of silks brush against her. “This is Lady Wylla Karstark, from Karhold,” Abby introduced, her voice coming out higher than she intended as she forced past the lump in her throat. Wylla rose, nodding to her brother who was also getting up to speak with some of the other lords.

“Princess Baela, I hope you’re enjoying the festivities.”

Baela inclined her head but said nothing.

“She is my dearest friend and also far from home. Also quite the archer.” Abby reached for things that Baela might find intriguing and welcoming, hoping her instincts weren’t wrong.

Wylla shook her head slightly. “You are too kind, Lady,” she lightly teased with the use of the title.

Baela’s head cocked, the tinkling of the silver charms in her hair soft among the din of the room. “My, all that snow and ice. It’s a wonder you do not melt beneath the dragon’s heat,” Baela said and the challenge was clear in her voice.

Wylla smiled in her sharp way, ever the winter fox. “As a daughter of fire and sea, I would assume you to be well acquainted with contradictions. One must burn hot to survive the cold.”

Baela actually smiled at that and Abby took the chance. “Wylla is a far better archer than I, Princess. I hear you yourself are well acquainted with the bow.” Wylla’s storm gray eyes flitted to her and Abby did everything she could not to shift awkwardly beneath her friend’s gaze. Not in this dress, and not with the sunburst tiara that graced her head. Instead, she grinned back at her. The princess merely glanced back at her before shifting closer to Wylla.

“Do you hunt, Lady Wylla? I hear there’s to be a hunt later this week and I do so miss hawking…”

Abby released a soft breath, pressing a grateful squeeze to Wylla’s shoulder before moving on to her aunt and uncle. Her cousin, Gareth, had stayed behind at Harrenhal, and she had fuzzy memories of her Aunt Mya. The older woman was plump and warm, brushing a soft kiss with a greeting. The din of the throne room grew louder as the meal came to an end, servants dashing between the party goers, removing plates and replacing carafes of wine and small foods for guests to continue to indulge in. The music shifted to a more lively fair and the dance floor quickly filled with eager revelers.

Lythene Ryger of Willow Wood had drawn her into the shy gaggle of maidens who were standing expectantly along the edge of the dance floor, trading glances across the room at the lords and Abby had noticed the looks they’d thrown in Aemond’s direction. Lady Lythene was five and ten, soft featured with honey brown eyes, her strawberry blonde hair woven with strands of river pearls in the common half knot coil that was common in the Riverlands.

“If Lord Yorick were here, none of these men would have a chance to win tomorrow,” Melony Piper said, all dark hair and more freckles than one could count. “My sister says he was the most fearsome knight not so long ago.”

“Psh,” Lythene rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows Ser Gwayne is a force to be reckoned with. Besides, Lord Yorick never leaves Runestone and if he did, Lord Borros would throw a fit.” She looked smug with the knowledge imparted and whatever look on Abby’s face seemed to spur her on. She leaned in. “Lord Yorick is married to Lord Borros’ younger sister with a son of their own. Should Lady Elenda not have a son, it’s said his sister may push one of her son’s claims to Storm’s End.”

As one, their eyes swiveled in the direction of Cassandra Baratheon, perfectly coiffed, and everything the daughter of a Lord Paramount would be. Raven hair wild as storm clouds around her bare shoulders, her golden dress sparkling in the dancing torchlight with an opal the size of Abby’s fist nestled in the hollow of her throat. Abby’s hands twitched, smoothing over the cloud of blue and green silk organza, the golden dragons and weirwood leaves embroidered over her bodice.

A warm hand touched her wrist and Abby met the gentle, honey eyes of Lythene, who smiled up at her. “Tá cuma álainn ort, a bhean,” she said softly while the others tittered. It took Abby a moment to register the words, “you look beautiful, my lady”, and Abby smiled shyly.

“Go raibh maith agat,” she thanked her and Lythene bit her lip as if holding back a chuckle.

“Agat,” she pronounced softly, the inflection different. “A little closer to got, and less like goat.”

Her cheeks burned and she repeated it softly and Lythene took her hand, squeezing it. “I can’t imagine you get to practice with many people here in the South,” she laughed, a tinkling like bells that drew the attention of other men.

“I haven’t. I’m looking forward to getting to speak it more, but I can’t get that sort of practice teaching Aeg- Prince Aegon.”

“You mean he’s actually going to try learning our tongue?” came the aggressive disbelief of Lady Melony. “Targaryens aren’t ones to debase themselves so.”

Lythene opened her mouth but Abby cut in, a frown slashed across her face. “Aegon is a Targaryen and a Hightower, a family that traces their lineage and impact to before the First Men, some say.” She tilted her head, exhaling softly and shook her head. “The Targaryens may be above us due to the gifts of the dragon, but you can be assured that Prince Aegon will take his duties seriously.”

She was reminded of the words Edmund had sneered at her, of how none would trust a dragon coming into the Riverlands and it was foolish to think so. Lythene said nothing, watching her curiously while Melony Piper’s bright green eyes narrowed somewhat, thin mouth pursed. Abby’s grandmother had been a Piper, which made the two of them kin.

Seven and the Old Gods help her if Aegon did not live up to her promise, but Abby trusted that he would. That he would, at the very least, try.

Melony opened her mouth to speak again but murmurs danced through the crowd, attention towards the dance floor. Abby looked over her shoulder in surprise.

Jace led Helaena by the hand to the crowd of dancers as the next song started, fingers touching as they circled around one another. She was a glittering, blue dragon amidst the crowd, hair like mercury as it flowed around her. Helaena loved to dance and the joy was obvious on her soft features, Jace’s own smile a shy one, his broad frame more obvious as he circled around her. Not as tall as Aemond, but Jace would grow taller yet.

“Well,” Melony’s attention had changed. “That’s an interesting development.”

Abby’s eyes instinctively cut to the queen where she sat at the King’s right, a slight furrow to her brow, and the Lord Hand beside her, his attention also on the pair dancing. A fond smile cut across Otto Hightower’s face as Helaena laughed when Jace spun her, and Abby wasn’t at all sure what to make of it.

Helaena looked happy, though, and that was all that mattered.

Abby startled at the feeling of a warm hand stroking against her elbow and Aegon’s laughter was soft as he stroked his fingers down her arm in a way that had goosebumps flaring across her skin. His fingers twined with hers and the ladies around her bobbed curtsies, murmuring My Prince and Your Grace.

“You all look like you’re having so much fun here, but I must steal my betrothed away,” Aegon said, his voice light and amused, in his element as the center of attention and even more dangerous without drink to cloud his senses. Abby felt the heated flush creep along her throat when Aegon tugged her into him. “I promised you a dance, didn’t I, Lady Abrogail?”

Lythene looked amused, Melony uncertain and Abby turned under Aegon’s arm so that she was facing him. “You did, my Prince. Thank you for the conversation, Lady Lythene, Lady Melony,” she thanked as Aegon began tugging her away. “It was good to meet you.”

Everything else drifted away when Aegon pulled her into his arms. The contrast to the last time they’d danced together was palpable. There was no anger between them, no confusion, no fear. He twirled her as he drew her into the space as if he were showing her off, her skirt flaring around her, rippling greens and blues like the rivers of her home, the candlelight glimmering along the golden threaded dragons on her gown, and the citrine bursts along her tiara. When Aegon pulled her into him, she could feel the heat of his body barely pressed against her, the flush of it coursing through her with every hammering beat of her heart.

“I wish we were somewhere more quiet,” Abby murmured to him as they turned around one another, clapping their hands before reaching for each other again. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Aemond tugging Wylla on the floor, her friend caught between surprise and a pleased flush along her cheeks. Abby would have to tease her later, in return for how merciless Wylla had teased her.

“Do you?” Aegon asked, grinning at her, eyes full of heat. “We could, you know. It is my nameday.”

“We’ll be caught, and I’d rather your mother not find us,” she chuckled, spinning away from him to turn around Lord Tyland, who smiled down at her indulgently while Aegon politely moved around Lady Johanna Westerling, Tyland’s goodsister and dance partner. Her gaze kept pulling back to Aegon whenever they were separated in the dances, and when they came back together, there was an ache in her chest that she could not identify. Relief? Want? Longing?

Everything?

“Remind me to get you a map of the tunnels,” he murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss against her temple and she couldn’t help the bubbling of giggles that escaped her. Aegon looked incredibly pleased with himself, and as the next song started, he pulled her closer to him, hands possessive on her hips as he lifted her in the air and spun her around.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked. Then it clicked. “What, so I can sneak to your room?”

Aegon winked at her. “Clever girl.”

“I try.”

As Abby turned, her eyes caught on the furious, dark gaze of Edmund Vance across the hall, accompanied by Lord Piper and some of the other River Lords. Abby blanched, the joy she had felt abating like water on a fire at the ugly look in his eyes. So distracted, she was, that she stumbled her steps of the complicated dance, nearly falling had Aegon not pulled her to him in time. She saw his gaze follow hers, his own smile morphing into a hard look.

“I’ve taken care of it.” Abby didn’t understand, trying to find the steps again without ruining the entire dance, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Aegon’s hand brushed soothing along her arm, his other hand warm on her waist and giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Focus on me, eyes on me, hunītsos.” His voice was gentle and firm all at once, quiet and earnest and Abby focused on the sound of it, her gaze finding his, softened now. “Aemond saved me from making a scene, but I’ve handled it.” He tilted his head. “I don’t need to take his hands.”

Abby struggled to find words, a strange and unfamiliar thrill coursing through her that she could not examine too closely in the moment. “And what have you decided to take instead?”

As the dance came to a close, Aegon reached up to cup the softness of her cheek, tilting her head back with his thumb on her lower lip. He leaned in, mouth brushing against hers, and the vow he made was full of promise.

“His pride,” he murmured, and kissed her in front of the realm to seal it.

What was your favorite moment of the chapter? What's something you're looking forward to? Any fun theories!? I'd love to hear your thoughts on what you're enjoying about Maiden and any curiosities you might have! And if you're not sure what to say, just a kind reblog with a heart or something would be lovely <3

[Chapter Fifteen]

#fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen x oc #hotd #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #house strong #aegon x abby #my fics

[minotaur-asterion]

Cold [insert entire emoji list here]

Do it >:)

This took me 20 days, Sal! Curse you! (Shakes fist)

🏳️‍🌈 Sexuality: Unlabeled! I don’t label any of the voices’ sexualities

🏳️‍⚧️ Gender: Unlabeled, UNLESS within Stubborn’s line of sight, in which case they’re both female until they break line of sight

😇 Religion: I mean… Cold’s a fragment of a god. He probably should believe in his progenitor? He’s not the type to worship, though

🧸 Childhood: In my human/magical girl AU, Cole’s raised by a single father. Him and Hernando are childhood friends (I’m just a sucker for childhood friends)

👻 Fear: Already answered!

🎶 Music: He prefers super energetic music, like breakcore and hyperpop. Classical is alright, but it can get a little boring if he’s not doing something while listening to it

👽 Quirk: He loves loves loves knives. Throwing knives, cooking knives, stabbing and parrying and hunting, he loves them. He has a collection in his closet; they’re in tip-top shape but he never uses them

💤 Sleep: Cold sleeps like the dead. No dreams, no talking in his sleep, no moving around in the middle of the night. It freaks everyone out until they see his chest move

🦾 Disability: Some of the star-shaped scars on his body will give him bouts of weakness or phantom pain when touched

💝 Love language: Physical touch all the way. If he’s sitting with someone at least one of his limbs is draped over them or touching them somehow. Cold likes to lay on top of others like a cat

🫂 Friendship: He doesn’t normally verbally express to his friends that he loves and supports them, but even so, he’s always in their corner and is willing to defend them

💔 Angst: Somehow, despite not having any parents, Cold has mommy and daddy issues /lh

🪢 Family: Since he’s so deeply connected to The Long Quiet and the idea of what they were supposed to be, he considers them the closest thing to blood family he has. There’s the other voices, sure, but that’s more found family than anything. He still thinks about The Long Quiet sometimes. Misses them, maybe

📓 Hobby: Already answered!

👗 Clothes: Cold’s wardrobe mainly consists of sweaters over revealing clothes. The sweaters are always worn off-shoulder. Always!

🔪 Fighting: Cold is an incredible ambusher, able to go for the weak points quicker than the eye can follow. However, he’s horrible at defending himself- a glass cannon of sorts

🌟 Desires: Cold wishes he were easier to entertain. Interesting stuff can come and go but it’s hard to land on something long enough to feel as though he can stop trying to look for the “next thing,” so to speak. It’s exhausting in of itself

🥇 Excels at: Cold’s good at killing. He’s good at the guitar. I don’t see what other skills he would ever need /j

🍫 Food: He’s not good at eating whatever’s put in front of him. Most foods are the wrong flavor, wrong texture, wrong smell, or some combination of the three. Liquid foods are usually the safest, so those are usually his go-to

🎭 Lies: His biggest lie, he has told to others and himself- he doesn’t feel anything. The others have preconceived notions about him that causes backlash when he tries to expand beyond them and express his feelings, even unintentionally, and it causes him to retreat back to his stoic shell

❤️‍🔥 Romantic: Cold has trouble trying to differentiate between platonic and romantic attraction, so he usually tries to look to the other person to determine what he should be feeling. Once he decides their relationship is romantic, he’ll begin to develop a little crush

💄 Appearance: If he doesn’t close his mouth the right way, sometimes his fangs stick out from beneath his lip. Think of this like a cat mlem

🖕 Anger: The sight of a visibly angry Cold is rare, since his anger is implosive. He’ll bottle it up and let it out in private and resorts to complaining to blow off some steam

🐱 Animal: If Cold came across an animal, chances are they’d get along. (Unless it’s Beast. Beast will eat him) He thinks snakes are neat

😬 Worst Thing Done: Besides slaying damsels? He eats cereal dry. FOR FUN.

😭 Worst Thing Happened: Probably the stuck in the void thing. In his opinion, metaphysical death is so much worse than physical death

😶 Random: Cold’s favorite piece of media is Waiting For Godot. The play features characters who are waiting for something that’ll never come- something he can immensely relate to

#slay the princess #slay the princess headcanons #voice of the cold

[razzafrazzle]

the madelines! moon, mars, venus, and uh... that guy?

[image description: four headshots of original characters. on the top left is moon, who is a dark-skinned older woman with short white afro hair and freckles. on the top right is an unnamed dark-skinned man with dyed burnt-orange locs pulled into a ponytail, stubble, one blind eye, and a large mole. on the bottom left in mars, a younger dark-skinned man with thicker dyed red locs, thick eyebrows, a dyed red goatee, and freckles. on the bottom right is venus, a younger dark-skinned woman with dark brown and blonde dyed hair pulled into afro puffs, small round eyebrows, and freckles. end id]

#thats right its Father #literally the only father in alt pantheon im pretty sure. im not anti-dad i swear #he doesnt have a name yet i am WORKING ON IT!!!! #hes the childhood friend of moon n sadie!! sadie uh. is a little bitter toward him. but ultimately theyre all chill #he n moon got a divorce when venus n mars were pretty young but it was a friendly mutual thing. they still love eachother just. platonicall #he moved away but he still visited the kids often :o] #mars got his love of weird fashion from him and venus got her love of photography from him!!!!!!! #everything else about him is SPOILERS so this is all you get <3 #doc talks #my art #my characters