#I keep saying that but I'm at a loss of words. I am sending so many vibes your way do you feel them. the vibes. I'm sending them

[bookwyrminspiration]

Hey Quil!

There's literally so much to say here my dude. Like-I just physically cannot put into words as to how much I love what you do for this fandom.

I have never in my life, met such an incredibly talented creator like you. /gen

The way that you can put words down on a page is so elegant, it's a talent that is just simply unfathomable to me. You just kind of suck me in with your writing--I have to clear a time to read the next chapter of the wings au because of how deeply you're able to weave your words to pull me into the narrative.

The world that you've built in your head, and the ideas that you churn out onto the page are so very incredible. And that's not just about writing either.

Seriously!! When I found out you could draw my reaction was pretty much. Well I guess it's over now, Quil's over here, hoarding all of the talent and stylistic choices of writing and art. /lh

I remember vividly when I first saw the wings AU. I was actually on my phone, at school, in the hallway (no shame apparently) and I saw Shattered Upside Down on the list of things. And I read the description and I sat there for a minute and I went.

Huh. That seems kind of weird. And I clicked off of it.

Can I just say!!! How funny that is!! Like I think I've been this invested in two fics ever, and my first reaction to seeing this was "eh I'll pass" ?!?!?!

Past Tobi this is literally right up your ally. It is dystopianizing + dragonifying your kotlc. Why the fuck would you want to pass on it????

Anyway, it was only three days later that I came around and gave it a shot (after seeing the one chapter and the word count.) And let me tell you. I knew I was hooked.

I knew it.

I remember so well sitting in the dark, on vacation, excitedly stimming on my bed after the fourth chapter came out. I had the Wiggles from a story!!! This had never happened before. I'd gotten squirmy yes, but I had to stand up!!! Because whew this story was really fucking good!!!!!

And Quil. Quil I cannot tell you how much the wings AU means to me. Like as a story but as an idea as a whole. And ik we're getting to the ah ha moment, and I know this means that it's ending, and while I'm so sad to see it go I'm also really excited to see how you write a conclusion to this.

Anyway if you want to see my shitty doodles of the wings AU from like...omg over a year now. (Quil it's been over a year since I drew those) just let me know.

Anyway, enough talking about my lord and savior (Shattered Upside Down) /hj

Thank you so very much for inspiring and writing every day. You're honestly such a cool human being, and it's been so fun getting to see you create on here <33

Oh my gosh this is so incredibly kind of you I'm at a loss of where to start to try and articulate back how much this means to me and how much I appreciate it.

Hearing that my words just kinda suck you in because of how I weave my stories makes me laugh a little because it feels wildly out of proportion with my writing approach. I think I've said this before, but I basically don't edit like at all. Everything you read is what I first wrote; it is the first draft. So you saying is both greatly appreciated and also amusing because I'm just winging it

And thank you for the compliments on my drawing, as well! You're not the first person to say that (discovering I could draw later on), which is wild because there was a time in the fandom where I was foremost considered a fanartist compared to...whatever I am now.

I love that you clicked off the wings au because if I am being 100% honest...I probably would do the exact same thing. I think if I saw the wings au out in the wild, I wouldn't read it. I'd go "huh, I don't really like aus, and this is too long" and just move on. Because it's true! I don't really like aus (they're great! just not for me most of the time) or long fics, so if it wasn't my story I'd absolutely skip right past it without a second thought.

I'm incredibly flattered to hear you were hooked, like that is such an amazing thing to hear as a writer than someone is that invested in your story--and giving you the wiggles!! You are giving me the wiggles right now as I'm reading through this just in awe. I'm thrilled you think the story is good because it's truly expanded beyond what I ever thought it would be, which is terrifying, but also so excited to watch (I say as if I'm not writing it). And I can't believe you were reading it on vacation like please enjoy your vacation the wings au can wait

Tobi. I cannot explain to you how much it means to me that the wings au means something to you. I started this story purely self-indulgently after I started mindlessly associating characters with wings, making the joke "well no fandom is complete without a wings au" to cover up how invested I was getting in such a "silly" concept. Like really? A wings au? Could it get any more basic?

And while the story is starting to come to a close (there's a lot left to write but like timeline wise...we're getting there), I really hope that I can live up to the rest of the au and the expectations. I've known what I wanted the final message, the final hurrah to be since I started; it's all been working towards that, but I don't know exactly how we'll get there or what shape it will take.

I'm both terrified and ecstatic to see what the wings au will become and I just hope I can do it justice.

Also I would absolutely love to see any doodles you're comfortable sharing. Seeing art of the wings au always makes my day and I'm incredibly honored that my story inspired you to create something.

Thank you so much for everything you've said, I don't know how to explain my appreciation for this. I hope to continue creating things and sharing them and having fun with everyone here for as long as possible, so thank you for being so receptive and encouraging about it all, this seriously made my day <33

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

[aemondfairy]

My Sister’s Keeper

summary: Aemond intends to send you away to protect you after he starts the war, but Aegon isn't ready to let you go.

pairing: Aegon & Aemond x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, mention of death, incest, threesome, p in v sex, oral (m&f receiving), voyeurism, male masturbation, infidelity (reader is married to Aemond), lactation kink, choking, cum play/eating, spit, Aegond kiss!! (oop) 18+ MDNI

note: Uhhhh. I'm sorry??? I feel like I just breezed through this, idk I was horny lol. Feedback is appreciated!

You’ll never forget the look on Aemond’s face when he first arrived back to the Red Keep from his journey to Storm’s End. Your family was desperate in the inevitable, upcoming war against Rhaenyra so Aemond had been sent to help strike up a proposal between one of Lord Borros’ daughters and the youngest son of the late king Viserys, Daeron Targaryen.

Sitting in the large bed of your shared chamber, you had been anxiously awaiting his arrival, chewing your fingernails down to bloody nubs.

“Aemond!” you practically leapt into his arms when he appeared sopping wet in the doorway. Overjoyed to see he’d returned in one piece, but something was off, something was wrong. He was vacant, like he had seen a ghost.

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”

With that simple sentence you knew your lives would be changed forever.

“You cannot just make me disappear,” you said to your husband through gritted teeth, as your voice trembled, lump in your throat forming as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

“If we are not here they will just go looking for us.”

“Anywhere is safer than here, my love.” Aemond answered coolly.

“If you think this decision was not difficult to make, you are wrong. It is simply what's best for the both of you. You and the babe will be staying in Dorne until I know for certain that it is safe for you here.”

“But –”

“But nothing! This is not up for debate,” he growled at you, “the decision has been made and it is final!” His words cut through you like a knife.

“You cannot make a decision like this. You are not the king.”

“No “ he retorted, “but I am your husband, therefore, when it comes to you and my child, what I say goes!”

You got up and exited your shared chambers with haste, not wanting Aemond to see you cry.

Your bare feet padded against the cold stone floor of the Red Keep, the walls echoed and groaned as you made your way to your eldest brother’s chambers.

Aegon’s head perked up when he heard you come in. He stared at you sheepishly from behind his goblet of wine.

“Has he told you?”

Letting out a deep sigh, “he has.”

“I cannot leave you. I will not leave you, Aegon.”

“I know, I know,” he says, patting the spot next to him, motioning for you to come and sit.

“Our half-sister is unpredictable,” he replied calmly, “there’s no telling what she might do… not to mention, Daemon.”

As much as you did not want to admit it, both of your brothers were right. Accident or not, Rhaneyra’s son was dead. You would be a fool to believe she wouldn’t be out for blood.

Aegon pulled you into his lap, his cock already half hard. You kissed him deeply as he grinded his hips up into yours. You ran your fingers through his unruly silver hair, enjoying the feel of his mouth on you. Completely lost in the moment, you hadn’t heard Aemond enter the room.

He cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.

“Aemond!”

Your brother-husband stalked into the room, his violet eye scanning over you with amusement.

“Oh please, do continue.”

Your chest rose and fell as you struggled to find the right words to say.

“Did you not hear me? I said continue,” Aemond repeated, as he approached you and Aegon.

“Aemond, this is not what it looks like —“

His brow furrowed at you as he gripped your chin forcing you to look him directly in the eye.

“Do you mistake me for a fool? You believed me to be unaware of your little arrangement?”

Still at a loss for words, you and Aegon just stared at your brother nervously. Aemond moved away a few inches and started to remove his tunic and his trousers. His cock strained hard against his small clothes, which he removed not long after. You gawked at him as he pumped his cock in his left hand, making his way back to you.

Aegon’s violet eyes beamed with excitement at this, pupils blown with lust. He took no time to nip at your neck, your earlobes, grinding against your core once again.

“I fear this is inappropriate,” you began.

“What’s inappropriate is you sneaking away from your husband to come fuck this wastrel,” Aemond began, his words thick with venom.

“Clearly, you want the both of us. So have us… while you still can.”

A slight moan left your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing Aegon easier access to your throat, your gaze never leaving Aemond’s, his expression unreadable as he nodded his head at you.

Aemond had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the tip bright red, lushed and angry, his arousal already dripping from the tip.

Aegon leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, and began to suck harshly. Being that your babe was only two months old, you were lactating. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt the milk begin to flow.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, “just like that. You’re doing so good.”

You could feel his cock twitching against your leg at your praise as he continued to ravenously lap at your breast.

As he switched to your other breast he sucked harder at your stiffened peak, the milk coming almost instantly. He palmed your abandoned breast with his large hand, squeezing gently. Shivers ran down your spine as the sweet feeling of relief washed over you once again.

A growl erupted from Aemond’s throat and he unexpectedly pulled Aegon away from your chest. To your utter surprise, he crashed his lips against Aegon’s, tasting your milk on his tongue. You watched with bewilderment as your husband passionately kissed your brother, tugging at his unruly hair, moaning into his mouth. Arousal seeped from your core and onto Aegon’s thighs. Aemond broke the kiss abruptly and stared at you.

Aegon’s hands gripped your waist, flipping you around so you were underneath him. Your eldest brother positioned you so you were laying on your back comfortably against the pillows. He nestled himself between your thighs and hastily hiked your nightgown up over your waist. You shivered as his warm breath fanned over your folds. Before you could blink his tongue was prodding at your entrance. Your hands flew to the back of his head on instinct, pulling him closer into your center.

Aemond approached you carefully. He tapped his cock against your lower lip a few times, a signal for you to open your mouth. Just as he did so, Aegon’s tongue had reached the right spot, causing your mouth to gape open as a loud moan escaped your lips. Aemond took this as an opportunity to forcefully shove his cock into your mouth. You felt a rush of pleasure as Aemond's cock filled your mouth. You began to suck and lick it, eager to make him moan even louder. Aegon's tongue continued to explore you as you pleasured Aemond, and you felt your body quiver with pleasure.

If you knew being with another man in his presence would have this effect on him, you would have brought your affair to light long ago.

With a low groan of your name he pumped in and out of your mouth mercilessly, the salty taste of his precum evading your tastebuds. The air left your lungs as you gagged around him. You could feel the pent up anger Aemond held for the entirety of the situation with each brutal buck of his hips. Ever so slowly he pulled back, giving the you the illusion he was going to give you a break. But before you were able to catch your breath, his cock found his way to the back of your throat again. The faster he went, tears began to stream down your face.

As bubbles of spit began to form around the corners of your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks to the best of your ability. With Aegon now three fingers knuckle deep in your cunt it was almost impossible for you to focus on Aemond; but as the pace of his thrusts quickened you knew he was going to cum soon. You moaned around his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch, you could feel every throb of the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock.

“No,” Aemond growled as he pulled himself from your throat, “I need to feel your cunt around me.”

Aemond all but shoved Aegon away from you, almost knocking him off the large bed. Aemond lined his cock up with your center and sheathed himself inside of you with quickness.

As Aegon now sat on the upper left corner of the bed, he watched intently as Aemond’s cock disappeared into you repeatedly. One hand tugged at his painfully hard cock and the other wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cooed, “look at how you take him so well,” he praised.

You nodded your head at him enthusiastically, pleasure overwhelming you. Aegon hooked his thumb into your mouth and you sucked and nipped at it intently.

There was no doubt that Aemond enjoyed the praise as well, snapping his hips even harder into your own. His cock bullied your sweet spot mercilessly. Your body tingled with a mix of pleasure and pain as Aemond's thrusts intensified; pressing hard against your cervix. His large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, making it difficult to focus on anything else but the raw desire consuming your every thought.

“Fuck, Aemond, I’m going to cum!” you screamed as your hot waves of pleasure coursed through you.

Aegon watched intently as your orgasm wracked your entire frame, his own following not long after. He let out a loud groan as he came into his hand. He flashed an evil grin at Aemond as he brought his fingers to Aemond's mouth, shoving them down his throat.

Your husband gagged around his digits, sucking Aegon's release from them.

As the aftershock of your orgasm continued to pump though you, your cunt squeezed around Aemond’s cock. The depravity of it all overwhelmed him and Aemond cum with a shudder. With one final thrust and a loud grunt, he was spilling himself inside of you.

As Aegon removed his fingers from your husband's throat, Aemond leaned over you, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Open up, baby," he said before spitting directly into your mouth, a mixture of his saliva and Aegon's cum evident on your tongue. You swallowed with a contented hum.

Aemond pulled himself out of you and got up quickly.

You curled up in the bed next to Aegon, Aemond’s seed seeping out of you onto the sheets, sleep finding you almost immediately.

“She can stay here for the night,” Aemond said as he leaned down to kiss your sweat-drenched forehead.

Aegon frowned at his brother.

“Aemond, we cannot make her leave,” he rasped, desperation clear in his voice.

“I think she needs to leave now more than ever, brother. To ensure nothing like this ever happens again.”

A loud sigh escaped Aegon’s lips as he diverted his gaze from Aemond to you, pushing your hair out of your face, admiring your beauty.

“Enjoy your time with her tonight. She will be on her way to Dorne by morning.”

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.

Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.

Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.

When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.

The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.

And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.

If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.

It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.

It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.

And it's suffocating.

Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.

Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.

Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.

And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.

I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)

Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.

You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.

And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.

[buckysegan]

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two

Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.

John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.

It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.

With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.

Dear Friend From Home 

You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 

I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 

There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 

May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 

If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration

Major John Egan 

“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 

With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”

The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.

At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.

Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.

"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.

An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.

Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.

"Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays! Do you have any zagreus interacting with other gods? Thanks so much

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Other people are learning about Zagreus.

Not that they know it's him, of course. He goes by the moniker prince.

Just enough to direct prayers and pay tributes, but a nameless god standing against Demeter? It's enough to send the whole pantheon in an uproar.

It's enough to send Demeter to heights of rage that Artemis previously thought her incapable of reaching.

There are gardens that her frost can't touch. Fruit she she has no hand in growing.

There are people who will not submit and die as she wishes it, blaming mortals for her daughter's death and so making them pay the price for a lost goddess.

Not even Zeus has rained destruction upon the mortals like Demeter had and not even Zeus can stop her.

It's too much. Too much taken, too much suffering.

Persephone was a sweet girl. But her loss is not worth the life of every mortal upon the earth.

Artemis is with Aphrodite, both of them having been evoked powerfully enough to send shivers down their spine. She leans against her spear and tried to think of any other way to fix this.

It's a town on the edge of collapse, a thick forest between them and the rest of civilization. In spring the journey is long but easy enough, but it hasn't been spring for a long time.

There's no game to hunt. Loved ones are dying. They beg and beg to any god that will listen but while every god can hear them no god can save them.

None but one.

But how would they know? This far out, there only contact is other isolated villages too deep in the world.

"I'm tired," Aphrodite whispers, knees pulled to her chest, something about her coltish in her helplessness.

Artemis has never tried this. She doesn't even know if it will work. But he won't ever find his way here on his own. "Can you keep a secret, Aphrodite?"

She shifts her head enough to look at her with a single garnet eye. "What secret do you have, sister mine?"

"Aphrodite," she says warningly.

She huffs, amusement aging her. "Yes, yes, my silence or my life. What is it?"

Artemis hopes she doesn't regret this. She hopes it works. "Prince Zagreus!"

"What's Zag going to do?" Aphrodite blinks. "He can't even-"

She cuts herself off and Artemis knows she's thinking through the first part, coming to the obvious conclusion and rejecting it out of hand.

"Artemis?"

They both turn and Zagreus is standing there. Not as image or projection like he was the last time they met face to face, but solidly beside her in the flesh.

He grimaces in pain and raises a hand to his side before straightening and forcing his arm down. Whatever it is that keeps him in his father's realm still has some hold on him, it seems.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something," he says. There's blood on his teeth. There wasn't any a couple seconds ago. "Oh, hi Aphrodite. Er. Please don't tell anyone."

"It's you?" Aphrodite demands. "You?"

"I am me," he agrees.

Artemis would beat him if they had the time for it. "Can you help them? This village will die. Word of you hasn't reached them and your temples are too far to travel too even if they had."

He grins it's all red. His blood drips down his chin. "It's not going to be pretty."

Artemis has never thought about how exactly the god of life and blood spreads his blessings. She thinks she's regretting that now.

"Pretty's my domain anyway," Aphrodite snaps. "Help them."

Zagreus moves too quickly for Artemis to stop. He grabs her spear and slices down his chest and then there's blood everywhere, pouring out of him, more than should be in any one body.

Aphrodite screams and Artemis wrenches the spear away, horrified. "This is celestial silver! You can't - even gods can't heal from it!"

"Death heals all wounds," he says and there's blood down his chin, spilling out his mouth with his every breath.

Then he's running.

They talk off after him and it's easy to follow his trail, the deluge blood and smell of copper filling her nose as they chase him.

Zagreus is mad. When she wasn't looking he went insane and now she's killed him.

They have to slow him down, have to get him to Hermes. It should be easy, they're goddesses and he's dying, but he stays fast enough to stay just out of their grasps.

He's lose a body's worth of blood a dozen times over and yet still more flows.

He finally trips and falls, giving gurgling breathes.

"Zagreus!" she shouts as she and Aphrodite fall into the snow beside him. "Zagreus, hold on, it's going to be okay."

He laughs and pats her cheek. He's too pale. "Relax. I die all the time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aphrodite demands, trying to put her hands over the wound but it's too long to stem.

Zagreus doesn't answer.

His body goes slack and it takes Artemis several seconds to realize the person screaming is her.

Aphrodite is sitting there shell shocked and bewildered and then Zagreus's body sinks into the earth, not even reacting to Artemis's attempts to hold on.

"Oh."

She looks up and Aphrodite is looking behind them. Artemis slowly follows her gaze.

Every place blood touched the ground, there now grows bushes of bright purple berries, more vibrant than any fruit she's seen grow that shade. They grow thick and fat on every branch and if there anything like the other food in Prince's gardens, it will keep them alive and they'll be able to grow more themselves.

If they're willing to sacrifice the blood.

The next time Artemis sees Zagreus, she's going to kill him.

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 2

I have no idea what I am doing with this space each week. Am I thinking thoughts? Am I recapping the episode? Am I getting anxiety that I'll have to be more selective with the images I use since I'm only allowed thirty yet every second of this show is color-coded? Am I lusting after Pin and my girl Prik? All of the above?! Once again, I have no idea, so let me just get this post started at the beginning with Pin being the saddest Pink Person and cutting all the mangoes within 50 miles because her girlfriend is leaving.

The Blue Beauty Anin sends her loyal and trusty sidekick Prik to keep her girlfriend company while she is busy preparing for her move.

Because she knows no mangoes are safe and apparently papayas too! And while we get a flashback, we see that Pin is wearing blue ribbons in her hair because even if she can't put words to it, she's been in love with her Blue Beauty for a long time.

Probably before she even knew the word "love"

So while Anin is busy making arrangements with her color-coded brother,

Pin is haunting the halls already grieving her loss

Refusing to acknowledge that Anin is leaving (same girl, same)

Losing her appetite (and will to live), which her color-coded mother picks up on

And crushing Prik's spirit with the realization that Anin will be abroad for SEVEN DAMN YEARS!

Basically, Pin is in her sad girl era as she holds Anin's handkerchief and cries into her pillow.

But thankfully Prik acts like a ghost and snitches to her Blue Beauty Boss that their Pink Person is turning into Britney Spear's 2000 classic "Lucky" since "she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking 'if there's nothing missing in my life then why do these tears come at night?'"

So Anin, in true Blue Beauty, fashion decides to make her girl happy by making food with her and eating it . . . alone since Pin still isn't eating.

And takes up every single waking moment of Pin's time.

They even celebrate Loy Krathong together, but the mood turns sad once Pin finally vocalizes that Anin is leaving FOR SEVEN DAMN YEARS!

So it's time for Anin to leave, and she says goodbye to her color-coded girlfriend and her color-coded aunt.

Oh, and her color-coded brothers!

But she immediately gets to writing her girl because if a letter is late, according to Prik, Pin is painting her nails black and listening to My Chemical Romance's "Ghost of You" on repeat until the letter arrives. Same girl, same.

However, Pin can read between the lines, and even though Anin is saying she is happy and writing about other friends (Anin knows other women?! Not in this sapphic love story she don't!),

Pin knows Anin is not happy and can see the teardrops on the letter as clear as day because they are the same album, but different songs. Alexa, play My Chemical Romance's "I'm Not Okay"!

Fuck it! Just play all of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge! I'M in my emo feels!

But their SEVEN DAMN YEAR separation is coming to in end which we can tell because their hairstyles have changed, and our Blue Beauty has a plan up her sleeve!

Sidenote: The snow globe on her desk has one character in green and blue and the other is in red and pink. It's them!

But back to the plan! Now that Anin is graduating, she triple-checks with her color-coded family that the highly esteemed prince who just happens to be her dad is going to keep his promise of giving her anything she wants.

Because this bad (blue) bitch is getting the custom-made house she promised her girl! Sis secured the bag!

And Pin is proud as hell of her smarty-pants skirt (since the clothing is historical accurate?).

But as proud as she is of her, in the middle of a room filled with pink, blue, and purple (!!!!) flowers, she looks shocked to see her Blue Beauty right in front of her when the episode ends.

Anin is just full of surprises like appearing out of nowhere and coming back queerer than when she left. Good for her!

Bonus: Anin's mom is a Yellow/Orange Oddity, and I think as the girls continue to age, they will inherit more of their moms' colors into their wardrobes because of generational trauma, gender norms, and whatnot until they break against tradition and be gay do crime each other.

But either way, me and my huge emo album collection will be here doing whatever this is all season!

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part thirty-two

summary: the end.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(

ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!

if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!

just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')

see you soon!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.

Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.

It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.

Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.

"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.

"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.

"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."

"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."

"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.

"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.

"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.

The funeral.

All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.

"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."

"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"

You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."

"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."

"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.

"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."

The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.

You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.

It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.

Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."

You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.

You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.

You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.

Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.

He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.

Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.

He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.

As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.

Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.

"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.

"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."

"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."

You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.

"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.

"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.

"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.

"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."

He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."

"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.

This was it. This was your breaking point.

Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.

Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"

"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.

When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."

You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."

"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."

You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.

"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.

"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."

"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."

You pry your eyes open to face him.

"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"

"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.

"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."

"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.

"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."

"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.

"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"

"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.

He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"

You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.

"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.

Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.

"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."

"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."

"That should not be enough, though." You insist.

"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.

He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."

"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.

He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"

"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.

You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.

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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

I hate to ask again but I had and idea. Also the last one was so cute thank you. If you can can you please write a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader is in love with this book but no one has read is so they have no one to talk to about it so Kaz reads it and starts a conversation about it with the reader and they get really happy and start ranting about it to him and he’s just happy to sit and listen to them and make comments from time to time

Dude, send me all the requests for our boy Kazzle Dazzle your ideas are so creative!

Book Club (Kaz x reader)

He needed an opening. Just one solid reason to actually talk to you. You had been in the Dregs for years now and Kaz was still struggling to even breathe around you. He had this crush on you that he refused to admit was there. Inej saw it, even dumbass Jesper saw it.

You'd assume that Kaz was mute if it hadn't been for your presence in the Dregs. You had been there for a long time but disappeared on a mission far off for three years. The room above Kaz had been vacant and then suddenly it had life. Kaz had no idea anyone even lived above him until you knocked on his door your first night back and asked him to join you for tea.

There you sat on a nice couch with a cup of chamomile. Kaz was perplexed by who you were and why the fuck you wanted to drink glorified leaves in water.

"Why am I here?" He asked.

"You tell me." You said, sipping from your cup. Kaz furrowed his brow.

"You asked me to have tea with you." He said, watching you with those daggers for eyes.

"You didn't have to say yes." You shrugged.

"I did."

"You did not." "I did." He said. "Okay then, why did you have to accept?" You asked. He sighed, looking at you with his gloved hands gripping his cane.

"Because I needed to know who was suddenly living in the room above me." He said. You rose a brow.

"You could've asked Inej to investigate." You said. He blinked.

"You know Inej?" He asked.

"I've been in the Dregs for three years, of course I know your main lot. Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan and that off-putting convict Mattias." You said.

Kaz was confused. How did you know so much but he was ignorant to you? How did he not know who you were?

"I'm a sharpshooter. I use that-" you pointed to a rifle on the mantle "rifle to kill whoever you want dead." You said.

"Why do I not know you?" Kaz asked.

"I was off in Shu Han for Haskell." You said. "For what?" Kaz asked.

"You do your business, I'll do mine." You said.

He liked that response. It meant you'd keep any secret that slipped through your ears. "I will work for you when you need me. Say the word, I will be there no questions asked unless one of ours is bleeding." You said.

"Why tea?" He asked. "We easily could've done this over something less detestable."

You chuckled. "You've not had the right tea then." You said with that smile.

That fucking smile. From that moment on Kaz was hooked. He couldn't help it. It was hard to not fall in love with someone like you. You were always there when he needed you, apparently you had taken some training on stealth from Inej, leaning to be one with the dark making you even more deadly.

But for the deadly persona that the streets simply knew as "the bullet", you were a gentle person. Kaz often noticed you with stray animals, seeing that kind smile. The one that made Kaz at a loss for words. You'd often make that same smile at Kaz when you'd pass him with a gentle "hi boss."

Sure, technically Per Haskell was the "boss". You however knew damn well Kaz was the brains behind everything. You had become close with the other members of the Dregs, including Inej who called you a sister. She loved being around you. You gave good advice and that was probably why the rest of the group would flock to you.

So there you all were, your head in Jesper's lap as you read. Kaz had noticed your sudden interest in this, everytime he saw you, you had that book in hand now. Wylan looked over at you.

"Care to join the game?" He asked.

"I'm good." You said, turning the page.

"You've been reading that for two weeks now, come up for air." Inej said.

"I need to know if Alistair lives Inej, the prophecy is strongly implying he will die and I don't think Cousland can handle him dying." You muttered, reading.

"None of that made any sense." Nina said.

"It'll make sense if one of you would at least read it." You said.

"We're all too busy. Kaz keeps giving us stupid b&e's.(breaking and entering)" Jesper said.

"Not all of you are busy though. Wylan?" You said.

"Kaz has been training me for lockpicking." Wylan said.

"He take you to the financial district?" You asked, looking up.

"Once or twice." He shrugged.

"Course he did. Best place to practice." You said before going back to your book.

"Alright, who's in?" Jesper asked.

Inej noticed Kaz at the bar, occasionally looking over at you. "I'm out." She said.

Inej made her way to him and he cleared his throat, turning back to his drink. It looked like scotch but the smell... it wasn't scotch it was tea.

"Didn't you say that tea was just leaves in water that is hot?" Inej asked.

"I hadn't drank the right tea." Kaz said, looking at the glass with vacant eyes. Inej recognized the expression. Kaz was at war with himself, as usual.

He never handled his innermost feelings well, especially the ones that left him vulnerable. And what was more vulnerable than love? You were a plague to his mind, always there. When it wasn't your face that he was smiling internally at, it was your laugh. When it wasn't your laugh it was your smile and so on. He wanted so badly to talk to you like he once did over tea but he didn't think it was a good idea.

You were just so perfect in his eyes. So beautiful, so smart. If he tried to converse, he'd make an ass of himself. He needed an opening something fierce. Something to give him a reason to talk to you instead of "hey, your face is anestheticly pleasing to look at, which I do. Frequently. Without you knowing."

"You're staring at your glass mighty hard there." Inej said. Kaz looked up. "You should just talk to her." She said.

"It's not that easy." He muttered.

"I do it all the time." Inej said with an eyeroll.

"Because you are friends. You know her. I am not that lucky." He said.

"You do know her." Inej said.

"Not like that. I know her from afar. Where it's safe." He said, drinking the glass.

"Kaz, she's right there. Just talk to her." Inej said.

You got up, stretching with a yawn. "I'm heading out " You said to Inej.

"Kaz will go with you!" Inej volunteered.

If looks could kill, Inej would've been six feet under at that moment Kaz glared at her.

"Alright..?" You said confused. Kaz sighed looking at Inej and then you before standing up.

He walked out with you, noticing the dark clouds that hung in the sky. "Looks like it might rain" he said.

"Good reading weather." You said.

"You're usually reading nowadays." Kaz said.

"It's a nice escape from things when they get too intense." You shrugged.

"What is it that you're reading now?" He asked.

If you were a dog, your ears would've perked up. "It's amazing- it's about this girl who joins this legendary army and has to rebuild what was-... Sorry." You cleared your throat.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asked.

"Well apparently everyone thinks I talk too much about this book." You said.

"Who said that?"

"Well Nina." He'd kill her

"And Jesper." He'd shoot him with his own guns

"And Inej." Wait what?

"And pretty much anyone who asks me." You finished.

"Wow." Was all Kaz could muster for words.

You shrugged. "I wish they'd just listen to me and read the damn book." You said.

"Why do you think they haven't?" He asked.

"They're all busy. They have their own lives and I have mine. It's nothing personal, I know. But I just wish sometimes I could talk to someone about it and have them actually know what I'm talking about." You said walking.

Kaz then realized this was it. This was his perfect excuse to get closer. "What's the name of the book?" He asked curiously.

"Rise of the Grey Wardens. Why?" You asked.

"I figured I could read it." He shrugged.

Your eyes lit up and Kaz felt intense joy. He made you happy. He actually made you happy. He didn't mean to but he did and my god were you adorable to him when you were beaming. "Then I know where we should go!" You said walking ahead of him.

Instinctively he followed. "Where are we going?" He asked.

You looked back, a breeze blowing your hair in such a beautiful way as you turned to him. "My favorite place in Ketterdam."

He asked no more questions after that, just following you quietly through backstreets. Kaz watched you approach a side door to a building, knocking on it rhythmically. The door open, an older woman smiling at you.

"Weren't you just here a few days ago?" She asked.

"I brought a friend." You said with a smile, stepping back and motioning for Kaz to introduce himself. Kaz couldn't help but feel a little giddy of your use of 'friend'.

"I'm-"

"I know." She said. She didn't say it with disdain though, which shocked him. "You're the reason we're still open. Come on in Mister Brekker."

He didn't know what that meant but accepted the invitation, walking in. "Do you have another copy of 'Rise of the Grey Wardens'?" You asked.

"I do, why did you burn through your other copy?" She asked.

"Mister Brekker wishes to read." You said with a grin. Kaz's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Bookshelves lined the walls both on the first and second floor of the building. There must've been thousands of books in front of Kaz.

"Here you are mister Brekker." The woman said.

"Thank you er..."

"Miriam." She said with a nod and a kind smile. She gave off the feeling of a doting grandmother with how fond she seemed of you. "Right! Y/n dear, I made some sugar biscuits if you'd like to try them" she said. You seemed to have found your way upstairs when you responded back with a

"Be right down!"

You returned with a new book in hand and Miriam grinned as Kaz took the book. "I see you've found the sequel." She said. You had the biggest grin.

"I had no clue it was a series." You admitted.

"The second one tends to be slow but it is vital for the third." She said, handing you a cookie.

You smiled, taking it. "Thank you. How much do I owe you?" You asked.

"Nothing. It's on the house." She declared.

"Miriam, if you ever wanted to apply for sainthood, I do believe you to be eligible." You said making her laugh.

"Thank the saints you didn't know me in my youth." She teased making you laugh. Kaz couldn't explain it. Usually smalltalk annoyed him but something about this was nice to him. You and Miriam seemed to have a tight bond.

"We should go, it does look like it'll rain." You said, peaking out a window. Kaz nodded but Miriam held her hand up before handing you and Kaz paper bags.

"For the road." She told the both of you. You gave her a kind smile before walking back to the door. "One moment Mister Brekker." She halted. Kaz turned around as Miriam motioned for him to lean forward for them to whisper. "Keep her safe, will you? There's not many a good person in Ketterdam but she's one of them." She said.

Kaz with possibly the sweetest look of adoration he could muster simply said "I will, Miss Miriam." Before he followed you out. The two of you began your trek back to the Slat. "How long have you known Miriam?" Kaz asked.

"Going on ten years now. Saved her cat from a town fire, she's been grateful since." You said, opening the paperbag and pulling a cookie out. Miriam gave you both cookies. Maybe Miriam was just a village grandma.

"Has any of the others met her?" He asked.

You shook your head. "You'd be the first I've shown to the Archive." You said.

"Why me?" Kaz asked as a crack of thunder sounded off.

"Because you asked me about what I read." You said before walking into the Slat.

Kaz winded up spending a good week reading that book. You were right, it was an amazing story. When he finished, he had that same urge that you did to discuss it.

All of the crows were back in the club, this time Kaz and you both playing a round of poker. Jesper hated this. You were way too good at poker and kept winning, hand after hand. You had a nice stack of chips. Inej seeing your smirk as you leaned back in your chair.

"I win again!" You said.

"Why is this so hard?" Wylan asked.

"Because Y/n is way too good at this." Jesper groaned, smacking his head on the table. Nina sighed.

"I need a drink. A very large one." She said.

"I've got my own little army of chips." You said, stacking them.

"You could rebuild the Cousland estate with your winnings." Kaz said, you looking up slightly shocked. "Course, I could always pull a Howe and, y'know. Knock it down." Kaz added.

You looked bewildered as Inej rose a brow.

"Kay, is it just me, or did none of that make sense?" Jesper asked.

"You just made a reference." You said.

"I did." Kaz nodded.

"You finished it."

"I did."

"And!?"

"You were right. The book is fantastic, I could not put it down." Kaz said.

Inej and Jesper exchanged a look.

"Fuck poker. We need to discuss the book NOW!" You said excitedly.

"Yes! Put me out of my misery!" Jesper said.

Kaz looked at him and then you. "Let's have tea." He suggest. Nina's eyes went wide as she realized what was happening before her, her looking at Inej who had a smile on her face.

"I'm grabbing my coat! Let's go!" You said getting up. Kaz followed you as you practically bounced out the door with excitement.

Nina gaped. "How long has he been in love with her!?" She asked as the door closed.

"Oh a while now, like since she got back." Wylan shrugged.

Jesper and Inej looked at Wylan as he moved your chips.

"You knew?" Inej asked.

"It'd take a blind man not to see."

You ended up back at the Slat, sitting cross legged on your sofa. You two must've discussed the book for hours, Kaz loving every moment of it as he heard you passionately talk about the story.

You sighed with a smile. "It's funny, I didn't think you liked me." You said, looking at your empty tea cup.

Kaz rose a brow. "Why did you think that?" He asked.

"You just seemed so... I dunno. Angry that I returned." You said.

"I wasn't."

"But you seemed it."

"I didn't know who you were. I was on my guard" he said. You rose a brow.

"You're not anymore?" You asked. Kaz bared a gentle expression that made your heart almost explode inside your chest.

"I'm not. You're one of the few I trust. The only I'd trust with my entire being." He said. Kaz didn't have faith in a lot of things. But he had faith in you and it showed. He looked at you. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

You gave him a look of pure adoration. "Of course." You said. You had spent your life reading books about the greatest romances of all time. You'd get lost in those stories of how the man always loved the girl but she didn't realize it until a pivotal moment.

"Kaz... you said you trusted me." You breathed. "Please. Please let my intuition be right." You thought to yourself as Kaz gave you a questioning look. "Do you... love me?"

Your question hung in the air for what felt like the longest minute of your life. Kaz definitely seemed caught way off his guard by the question, his eyes widening the second he realized what was happening.

This entire time he has been hoping for an opening to talk to you. A moment to truly get to know you. Well he got one. And he fell in love with every bit of you. He swallowed hard.

"Forget that I asked, I am so sorr-" "I do." He said.

You blinked. "What?"

"I love you." He said. Your jaw must've hit the floor. You knew how guarded this man was. You heard that any semblance of vulnerability was practically impossible from Kaz and yet here he was. Being the most vulnerable he could be with you.

You looked at him before getting up. He thought his words might've done something bad. Maybe you didn't want his love. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything, maybe he was a fool for thinking there was-

You kneeled in front of him. "Kaz, may... Uhm... May I touch you?" You asked. With hesitation he nodded as your hand gently held his cheek. The touch of humans was deeply unsettling to Kaz. That feeling brought him back to a place he never wanted to be in ever again and yet somehow...

Somehow your gentle touch made him feel safe. If it had been anyone else he'd probably be in the process of murdering the fool who touched him. But it was you. You were like an angel on earth to him.

"When I look at you, do you know what I see?" You asked softly.

"No." He muttered.

"I see someone else who's been through hell and came out on the other side." You held his hands, Kaz looking in your eyes. "We've suffered long enough and we deserve to be happy." You said softly.

Kaz had a momentary loss of control. He kissed you, you leaning into his touch. He pulled away with wide eyes. "I am so sorry-" "shut up and kiss me Brekker."

The next day you were at the crow club reading at the bar next to Inej. Jesper yawned. "It's a boring day. Wish Kaz would give us something to do. By this point I'll take a fucking b&e." He whined.

Kaz, as if he were summoned, walked through the doors of the crow club, sitting on your other side. For once, Inej watched you put your book down as you gave a gentle smile to Kaz. "Hello" you said.

The dead give away that something had changed was the fact that Kaz smiled. He actually smiled back at you. "Hello." He said softly.

Inej and Jesper swapped shocked looks. "Y/n, do you mind helping me with this? It's a rifle mod and I wanna make sure I've got the measurements right." Wylan asked. You looked over.

"Alright." You said walking off.

Jesper and Inej looked at Kaz who now had a drink in his hand. "What the hell happened last night!?" Jesper asked.

"Nothing important." Kaz shrugged.

"We just had tea."

[rorichuu]

Hello Rori!! <33

May I request Sniper, Medic and.. hmm, maybe Scout or Pyro with comforting the reader?

To be more precise, if it's alright:

Reader is sweet and always trying to keep everyone happy as well as the vibes up around the base- always making sure everyone is appreciated and cared for, but maybe they're starved for affection themselves? Maybe they're afraid of being too overbearing or 'bugging' everyone. So one day they go up to (merc) and ask if they're being too much and that's when they get comforted? Maybe some comfort cuddles and such- whatever you think suits the character!

A drabble would be preffered, please!

-@simp999 ♡

(Also, thank you for being so kind and sweet to interact with!! I'm so glad I found your blog- lots of respect for all the effort put in as well!)

shy away ; mercs x reader

pairing: sniper/medic/scout x gn!reader

authors note: hello! and thank you!! your words mean soso much, i love this ask!! - also i apologize for posting so late :(

disclaimer: none! pure fluff, mentions of spy/engi in scout's. :)

SNIPER:

The battle neared its end, BLU considerably pushed back this time around and it was unbearably visible. Y/n was shooting around; running up to any merc who needed the assistance they needed. Sniper took a seat at the table in the rec room, observing you. You had just gotten water for Heavy and were conversing with Demo, his slurred mouth pouting from their loss as you kindly spoke praises to lift his mood.

Of course, everyone noticed how sweet and considerate you were, it was your best trait... and they appreciated you deeply for it. But Sniper had always wondered if you had been taken care of all the same.

As the room began to file out, you let out a heavy sigh, knowing you did the best you could. Sniper stood, making you turn your head; you send a smile at him. "Didn't notice you were here," you say. Sniper nods, sending a small smile in return. "I have some water I grabbed from the supply room. I know today was... rough. Is there anything that you need?" You asked with your eyes pointed up with question. The New Zealander shook his head, shifting the rifle on his shoulder.

"No, roo. I'm alright," With his head tilted down, he about walked off before you opened your mouth; the sound of you shifting your shoe against the pavement lifted his ears. Sniper looked behind him, eyes on yours. You stood small, shoulders low, and eyes the sweetest he's seen. His eyebrows furrowed now. "Well, on with it then..." He spoke, turning his body to you.

"Am I too much sometimes?" Sniper was caught off guard by this. "Like, when I'm always checking it... I can understand if it's annoying or overbearing when I'm always asking." With every word you spoke, Sniper felt his heart sink just a little bit more. The team needed someone like you. They needed your tender heart when the battle was unforgiving. Your gentle hand when the rough of the gun scarred and tore theirs. They needed someone like you.

Sniper huffed, walking over as he placed both hands on your shoulders, leaning to meet your eyes. "You've never been," you gulped, feeling your cheeks warm. "You mean more to this team than ya' believe, mate." You dip your head to hide your face, Sniper smiles before wrapping his arms around you.

"This is… nice." You laughed as you melted in his hold, comfort washing over you.

"You deserve the care and attention just as much as we do."

. . .

And as time passed, he rubbed your back as you held him. Frequently, he'd sway, but only to find your eyes closed. Sniper then took that as his cue, one hand on your shoulder and the other taking his hat off. The Aussie laid it on top of your head, leaving you looking up at him.

"Let’s go watch a movie.”

MEDIC:

You were helping Medic pick up, politely asking where goes where and what does what... curiosity always found in the dusted books and pristine tools that scatter his room. It was nearing the end of the day; time had settled and nearly everyone was asleep. The clock is sung at 12AM, letting you know it is time for you to head to bed as well.

You have always helped clean up and provide assistance to those who need it... especially with Miss Pauling. Always lending out a hand when it's needed. The day was long, the mercs were exhausted, and you sure as hell were too... but you could always get sleep the next coming hour, right?

Medic let out a hefty sigh with a rub at his temples, your instincts kicked in. "Medic?" You hummed in question, the man looking up with tired eyes.

"Ja?" His voice croaked, his eyebrows now raised with inquiry. As you started to place his surgical tools neatly on his steel table, you began:

"Are you alright?" You look up at him, and the man huffs a small smile. His, then leaned stance, against his operation table was left to approach you.

"Yes, mein freund," (my friend) he puts a hand on your shoulder as he takes the rest of his tools from you. "Go get some rest. You need your 8 hours!" He chirped despite his sluggish posture, not convincing you enough. You noticed the eyebags that slumped, the movements that slowed, the yawns that escaped... undeniably, he was tired.

"Well... what about you?" You ask, leaving Medic slightly confused as he turns his shoulder, glasses falling to the tip of his nose.

"How do you mean, Y/n?" You take a deep breath and cross your arms. Medic raises an eyebrow, his free hand pushing his spectacles up to their original place.

"You should get some sleep... I can pick up the rest. I know it's been a tough week, so I can help!" and in response, Medic's lip quirks humorously. "Really, I can!" As much as you try to persuade him, he doesn't budge.

"I know you can," fondly, he looks at you. "But doctor's rules, Y/n." He walks past you and continues to aid to his unkept office. You were left biting your lip, hands clasped together in front of you as you continued to let your mind race. Perhaps you were pushing Medic towards something he didn't want? Maybe he was annoyed with your continuous advances of lifting the heavy load of his job... what were you to say about what he can and cannot do?

With a knitted brow, your mouth gapes open with the intention to speak. "Hey," you nearly whispered, intimidated by your own question. The German man's head pops out from his desk, a small 'Ja?', making you aware of his reply. "Am I too much sometimes?"

"Wie bitte?" (Excuse me?) Medic, caught off guard entirely, lifts from the floor with his palms leaned against his workspace. You swallowed hard, his tone higher than usual.

"Like... when I try to help or ask if you're doing alright," you timidly voiced. "I understand how it can be draining with my constant check-ups and stuff." The doctor sent you a small smile, whether you saw it or not with your chin tucked close to your chest... he let out a laugh, walking towards you with both hands now placed on your shoulders. You look up at him, cheeks flushed with his sudden hold.

"As a doctor, nobody checks up on me. I'm always delighted by your check-ups, Liebling." With every word he spoke, your lip curled into a pout, your heart softening. Medic patted your head. "You always do the best you can for everyone, but remember to take care of yourself, ja?" Suddenly, Medic is met with a breath-losing hug. Though his chuckle is shallow, his arms wrap around you just as tightly.

"Thank you."

"No," he shakes his head, hands now cupping your face. "Thank you!" He cheeses, leaving you a small laughing fit of his big smile. "You're help is always deeply appreciated, schatz." (Treasure).

Coo

"Ooh, even Archimedes thinks so!"

SCOUT:

Scout was... undeniably, very beat up. He groaned and whined as you gently pressed alcohol swabs against his injuries upon his arm. "Ow! Y/n, is this really necessary?" You sighed, throwing the swab in the trash and retrieving a large bandaid in turn.

"Yes, Scout... I can't have you getting infections or something, it's a pretty big gash," You spoke as you placed the wrap on the lower part of his elbow. "I can't have you whining all hurt like this."

"And Scout, please keep drinking your water."

The man scowled as he took a large sip from his cup, the swirly straw found from the back of the cabinet in the kitchen. (Scout likes the swirly straw, wink wink... but tell no one.)

. . .

As time passed, and Scout continuously cursed at the sting of the alcohol... he was finally all patched up. You lifted from your arched position, back cracking as you stretched. "Alright, you're done." You huff in exhaustion. This boy knows no boundaries when it comes to the battlefield...

The Boston boy leaped from the couch and placed his cup down, water splashing out with a plat; Scout was thankful he was done. "Are you feeling okay? If not I can get some painkillers, I bet Medic has some..."

"Y/n! C'mon man, I'm good!" His balled fist hits your shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes as he checks out the bandaids on his arm. "Stop worryin' over little ol' me, it'll save you from getting greys... take Spy for example! He's just as bad as Engi being a helicopter mom... god, how did they even become a thing."

You chuckled softly, hand holding your shoulder as you listened to him ramble on again. For as long as he talked, he hadn't realized you weren't listening, your eyes spacing off. The boy tilted his head. "Y/n?" ... "Y/n!" Your head perked up at the sound of your name.

"Hm? Yeah?" You hummed. Scout read you like a book; your hand placed at your shoulder, spacing off, sad face... that's 'anxious Y/n face'; he somethin' was up.

"You good? You seem kinda off." He asked, furrowed eyebrows as he leaned forward... arms crossed as he looked you over to see if anything was upsetting you.

You shook your head, waving a hand as you backed away. "Oh, yeah! I'm good, just. Oh, just thinking." You turned and immediately started to pick up the first-aid supplies and his half-finished cup. But before you could lift the glass from the table, Scout's hand surrounded yours to keep the cup where it was.

"Talk to me."

Scout was a sweet boy. He may talk a lot, and may not think much of what he says... but when he knows when to listen, he does. You take a deep breath, pulling your hand away from his. "Do you ever get annoyed by me? Genuinely..." You ask, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. Scout blinked.

"Huh?!"

"Well, you know what I mean!" You exclaim in response, shrugging. "Y'know I'm always making sure you're alright and if you need anything... people can get annoyed when I'm always checking in." You frown, and Scout places his hands on his waist now before approaching you.

"Which people?" He asks and you tilt your head.

"Wha-?" Your nose scrunches in confusion.

"Which people find you annoying when you check up on 'm?" There was a moment of silence, your head slowly lowering in thought. The boy lifted his hand and tapped your chin, motioning for you to look at him. "Y'know I'd beat them up in a millisecond if someone said somethin'!" With a swift lift of his arm, he flexed. You huff, worry still washed over you. Scout eased up, turning to slump down on the couch. He patted the seat next to him. "C'mon, sit."

You sighed and followed, sitting down next to him, only to have an arm wrapped around your shoulders... You were now leaning completely against him. Scout shook you slightly. "You really don't know, do ya?" he finally speaks, your head turned to look at him. You blink. "Oh boy..."

"'Oh, boy,' what!" You frown, your heart picking up a pace as you tense in his hold. The Boston boy chuckled.

"Everybody loves your help!" He chimes, looking up at you brightly. "You remember the other day when Pyro was yabberin' off about something?" "Yeah..."

"They were upset because they messed something up on their drawing. They immediately thought of you, Y/n." Your heart begins to warm.

"Oh, and Spy needed your help on whatever the hell he was doing. Kept saying, 'Where's Y/n? Where's Y/n?' It was like he was a broken record, pfft, embarrassing."

"That was... you, Scout." Your lip curls into a smile, and Scout blushes.

"Well, whatever! Moral of the story," he waves his hands in a dramatic flare. You chuckle. "People love ya! And we're always there for you as you are for us." He pats your shoulder as you lean against him once more. "But that also means you gotta take care of yourself too... you're just as important. Ya always will be."

Sniffle.

"Aaalright, c'mere," swiftly, Scout grabs the blanket from the arm of the couch, wrapping you up. "Take a nap, Y/n. You deserve it."

And you did. With a warm heart and a proud Scout, life was pretty good.

.

.

.

rorichuu!

[the-power-of-a-pen]

A Way Home

Fandom: Spiderverse

Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.

Word Count: 4654

Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.

Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)

A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!

------

"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.

She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"

"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."

"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."

Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"

"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.

------

"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."

"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"

"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."

"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."

"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."

Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"

Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."

"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."

"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.

"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."

"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."

Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"

Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.

"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."

Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."

"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."

"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."

For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."

Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.

"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.

------

Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.

He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.

"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"

"Wait."

"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."

"Tell Jessica to report to my office."

"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."

"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"

Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."

Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."

"Should I get someone?"

Miguel sighed. "Just go."

------

“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”

Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”

Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”

Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love. 

Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”

He shook his head. “What?”

“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”

Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”

Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”

“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”

------

“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”

“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.

Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”

You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”

He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”

You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”

“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”

“Did I fucking what?”

“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.

“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”

“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.

“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.

“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”

Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”

“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”

Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.

“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”

You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”

“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”

Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

------

“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.

“On the move?” you asked.

“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace. 

You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.

“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”

“Got it.”

“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

 You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft. 

Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below. 

Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”

“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop. 

The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground. 

“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time. 

In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down. 

The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.

When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”

------

A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel. 

A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.

“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”

Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.

By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.

“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”

You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall. 

Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.

“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”

“Yes!”

“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him. 

You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.

Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest. 

“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.

“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”

------

You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”

That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.

He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.

“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”

“What did you really come here to say?”

“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”

He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”

You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”

He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”

“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”

Now or never, Miguel.

“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”

“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”

“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.

“Are these adoption papers?”

“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way. 

“And this isn’t a joke?”

“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”

------

Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex. 

“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”

“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic. 

“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”

You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face. 

“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.

You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”

He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

------

It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door. 

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”

He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”

“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”

Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”

He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment. 

“What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”

“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”

“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted. 

“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”

Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch. 

“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you. 

He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”

He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”

------

[homestylehughes]

jack Hughes- noise

noise- jack hughes

summary: where jack is the only noise you ever want to hear.

wc:725

PSAAAA: hiii!!! if you clicked on this story thank you so much!! I'm new to writing on tumblr so I'm still learning!! so pls be nice ( I promise I'll get better) anyways hope you enjoy, let me know what you think below (omfg I'm sorry this is so long I'll stfu now<3)

fic below:

time is moving slowly, each time i look at the clock. time is moving slower and slower. I used to love being alone, i used to love my noiseless life, or the noises that i found simple and easy. like the noise of my ac blowing when doing my homework. or the occasional noise of my favorite records i’d play, and dance too around my apartment at 2 am. now i have a different type of noise in my life, jack hughes. 

if you would have told me a year and half ago, i be waiting to hear noise fill up my life and apartment; i’d tell you you’re crazy. my noise being jack hughes. there’s nights like these where i really want him here, to feel his noise.  

the devils lost to the Sharks tonight 6-3. after coming off a 3 game heater, i knew this loss would be hard for them. for him. i waited for him to call, to hear the noise of his ringtone, for it to ring through my ears. constantly glancing at the clock on my wall, as i see the time ticking by, slower and slower. i just wanted to hear my favorite noise. after most losses, jack didn’t come over. i respected that, i knew he needed space sometimes, and i would always give that too him. but right now i was missing my noise, i wanted nothing more than to grab my keys and head out the door, drive 40 minutes to his place. i wanted nothing more than to call in 15 times, spam him with texts, to let him know that i missed him and that i’m here for him. that i missed his noise.  

the game ended 3 hours ago. i keep looking at the clock, time is still moving slowly. i make my way to my bedroom, throwing on one jacks shirts. i slowly make my way to my bed, a bed that feels cold without him. i close my eyes, and try to think of something that can send me off to sleep. all of my thoughts are about jack, and how much i miss his smile. his laugh. his sassy comments. his kisses, oh god how much i miss his kisses. and most importantly his noise. my thoughts are starting to slowly fade, my eyes start to slowly close. as my eyes flutter close for the last time.

 i hear a pounding at my door, i glance at my clock and the time reads 3:30 am. who’s here at 3:30 am? i slowly make my way through my apartment, turning a light in the hallway, in which i immediately regret. i turn the handle at the door, not knowing who to expect. my mind goes foggy when i see jack standing in my hallway. all my thoughts are immediately consumed by him again. all of my thoughts are consumed by his noise.

“hi” i say, as i look at jack who’s still standing in the hallway outside my apartment. “hi” jack breathes back out to me. our eyes never leave each other. i can’t take the space anymore, i can’t take the silence. i need his noise.

 i pull him into my apartment and slam the door behind us. the next thing i know is jacks body slamming into mine. pulling me into the biggest and tightest hug ive ever received. we stand in my living room of my apartment, embraced in each other arms. no words need to be said between us. i slowly pull apart, too look into his eyes. scanning his face to see any sign of injury, instead all i find is love and calmness.

 i grab his hand and led him into my room. knowing my bed will no longer be cold with him in it. no other words have been exchanged yet, no other words need to be exchanged. we get into bed, and jack quickly pulls me into his flush body.

i can feel his noise. i can hear his noise. the steady sound of his breathing. the sound of his heart beating beneath me. this is all i need. his noise. my favorite noise jack. my jack. i slowly fall asleep to the sound of his noise, and now i'm no longer alone. my noise, my home is back.

[moonselune]

hiii it's revivify anon again (can I be 🐶anon?)

ahhhh your takes for the male companions reactions are so real!!

as a galemancer myself, I absolutely see him going the god route to bring them back. he's probably spin it as something like, "it was my ambition to bring you back. Therefore, i am allowed" (honestly, I could see him becoming so much darker if he brings back his fallen love. He'd probably keep them in a gilded cage of sorts. Always saying that he has their best interests at heart, that he's better and more reliable than all other gods. That no one, god or mortal, could love you better than him, so you should worship him just as much as he worships you... man... the potential.)

Thinking about astarion losing his love just hurts because like... they came and healed his heart only to shatter it all over again? If it was BEFORE the cazador fight, I think he'd definitely ascend himself. Why worry about losing your soul when you've already lost your heart? If it was after the cazador fight, I think he'd just kick himself for letting you convince him not to do it, and eventually circle back to the idea that he should've ascended. Maybe then, he could've saved you....

Oh, Wyll.... I get what you mean about not wanting to immediately go down that route of trading his soul to another Patron. I think if Mizora caught wind, she'd absolutely taunt him with it. Always hanging around like a bad smell, dangling the chance to bring his love back as long as he signs away his soul in a Pact eternal with her. I think as long as he had his friends around, he would be able to stand firm and remember that his lover would've shattered at the idea of him sacrificing himself. I'm not sure if I'm misreading his character or not, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't take another lover. He'd probably 1) blame himself for the loss of their life, and 2) think he isn't worthy of love again, and 3) probably love them until he dies tbh. He wouldn't want another lover, because they wouldn't be his lost love :'(

DARK HALSIN!!! Girl... your mind.... you are so onto something. I could totally see him going shadow druid tbh. He'd probably stop and be like, "you know what? Maybe they were right. Maybe I should've embraced the shadows. Maybe I still should..." or like, if people venture far enough into the woods, they might come across a corpse perfectly preserved as if theyre just sleeping, reeking of druidic magic. There's tons of plants surrounding the body. Some consider it a holy site, some consider it cursed. But all agree not to linger too long, lest the beast that guards it finds you...

CW: Dark Content

Of course 🐶 nonnie !

Oh my god yes yes yes yes, I have done a galemancy run and it was one of my favourites. The way this man would be like "I am doing nothing wrong" and there's just a pile of bodies behind him because he keeps messing up this necromancy spell that requires a sacrifice. Oh my lord and when it finally works and you are alive, back and well. He is overjoyed and is like my love! You have returned! Don't look at all the blood and bodies, just come this way my love! No the outside world will harm you, my love, just follow me! Look at this room it has all your favourites! Those windows have never opened my love, here's your favourite tea!

And he is NEVER going to let it go that he brought you back- ever. You are his masterpiece, the fruits of all his labor, the perfect embodiment of his ambition. He is your creator, you, the perfect creation. You belong to him. You will watch him ascend and you will take your place below beside him.

Resisting is pointless, you wouldn't want to go back to that cruel afterlife. Maybe if you are being particularly ungrateful, you would like a taste of what he rescued you from? Sending you into a spiral of nightmares until all you can do is cling to him in fear. He strokes your hair as you cry and murmurs how all he did was save you from this and you want to defy him? Hurt him by saying all those cruel words?

Well shit this is gonna end up as a fic isn't it?

YES, pre cazador, definitely would ascend and I can go see him going after people who look like you but as soon as they do/say something that is out of character for you, he just murders them. Justifying it by saying if you don't get to live, then neither do the poor imitations of you.

If he didn't ascend I reckon he would make a deal for him to get some sort of power, as you said, his heart died with you, what does he need a soul for? And then that takes us back to his ascended behaviour.

Oh baby boy Wyll, I agree, I do not think he would take another lover, but he would move on, I can see him becoming Grand Duke and shaping Baldur's Gate into a City that you would have survived in. He would name so many things after you, you liked books? He would build a library in your name? You always said you wanted kids or a big family, he builds an orphanage for you, telling the children stories of you. I think eventually as Wyll gets older and Mizora still tries to tempt him, he eventually enjoys her presence - as every time she tries to lure him into darkness, he can hear his beloved guiding him back to the light, and that he would never give up. Mizora is like wtaf, fine, you will never see me again, and then she's bored and shows up.

Dark Halsin !!! We love you !! He would have such a guilt complex about the shadow druids, how they were right etc. AND YES OMG you read my mind, parents warn their kids not to play too deep into the forest and for those wayward ones they come back, trembling with fear as they say how the beast roared and swiped its sharp paw at them. (Halsin would scare them away, I can never imagine him being violent with kids). But for those trying to prove their strength and valour by rescuing the beautiful maiden - they are never seen again.

Oooooo I cannot wait to sink my teeth into this!

[justmystyles]

literally just came up with this so suddenly but imagine plusiszereader being like an old member of the band or something. like she was apart of the love band back in 2021 but left just to do her own stuff BUT her and harry have been in a relationship since then. it’s obvi private but fans like absolutely love and miss her. then, for the final show when harry is doing the 10 minute ballad she comes out as one of the flute players for one last show and people just going nuts.

then at the end just a shit ton of love dovey stuff like them both crying and comforting each other cause its the final show.

OH LORD IM DELULU YALL

Heart Song

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.7k

summary: as a former member of the Love on Tour band, and current girlfriend of Harry, he asks you to reprise your spot for the final show.

a/n: this was such a cute ask, thank you so much for sending it! this is the last final show fic i have planned for the time being. who knows what the future holds? i'm trying to catch up on asks, so if you're waiting on one that you've sent in, keep an eye out!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You sit on the piano bench beside your boyfriend, at a complete loss for words at the song he just played for you. He had been so excited to show you what he was working on, he said that it was a song for his fans, that he wanted to play it for them at his last Love on Tour show.  

“Is it… do you like it?” He asked tentatively. 

“Baby, it’s so beautiful. No words?” He shook his head. “It’s perfect.” 

He grins, his dimples making your heart melt. “Well, almost.” You give him a curious look. “It could use some accompaniment, perhaps a flute?” He said with a wink. 

“Who, me?” Harry laughs at your reaction. “But I haven’t been in your band for a year and a half.”

He takes your hand in his. “And I’ve missed you every show. So have the rest of the band, and the fans too.” 

“I don’t know, Harry.” 

“Please, baby?” He pleaded. “This has been such a huge tour for me. For us. We fell in love on this tour, it would mean the world to me if you were by my side when it was ending.” 

Your expression softened at his words, he was right. You had been hired to play in his band, and got so much more than you bargained for when the two of you fell for each other. You fell hard and fast, but before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to Love on Tour. You had only signed on temporarily, leaving to pursue some solo work. Just because you said goodbye to the tour, didn’t mean you were saying goodbye to Harry. The two of you maintained your relationship, keeping it out of the public eye, allowing Harry a modicum of privacy.  

You let out a sarcastic sigh. “Well, I suppose I am going to be there anyway. I was looking forward to just being an audience member, but I guess I could pop onstage for a few minutes.” 

Harry threw his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. “I love you so much, thank you thank you thank you!” 

After finishing Fine Line, Harry retreated to the backstage area to prepare for the encore. This was your cue to head back there yourself to prepare for his final song. Before you head into the changing area, you rush over to the wings, hoping to catch him before he goes back onstage. 

You finally see him, he’s pacing, clearly trying to compose himself. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not you want to bother him, but when his eyes lock on yours you feel drawn to him like a magnet. 

“How are you holding up?” You ask, brushing a loose curl out of his face. 

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “It’s almost over.” 

“I know baby,” you place your hand on his cheek, stroking gently. “You’ve still got a few more songs, go out there and give it everything you’ve got.” 

“You’re still coming on for the finale?” He asks hopefully. 

“It’s why I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m gonna run and go change real quick.” 

“If I send someone to get your jumpsuit for you, do you think you could just throw it on here?” He pleads. “I need you close while I’m out there. You make me stronger.” 

You smile softly, placing your lips against his in a soft kiss. “Whatever you need, Harry, always.” 

He smiles gratefully, kissing you once more before running up to one of the production assistants, and instructing him to get your outfit and flute from his dressing room. He returns to you, taking your hands in his. “It’ll be here in a second. Thank you, my love.”

“Nothing to thank,” you say plainly. “Nowhere I’d rather be. Now get out there and knock ‘em dead.” 

He brought your hands to his lips, kissing the backs of them, and headed back onstage. You followed as far as you could without being seen so that you could watch his final few songs. You looked on proudly as he gave his all. 

You loved this man with all your heart but more than that, as a musician you admired him more than anything. His dedication to his craft, and his fans, was unwavering. Time and time again he would give himself to everyone, first with the heartfelt music he would write; and then dedicating nearly two years of his life to traveling the world in an effort to bring that music to his fans. 

The PA that Harry had sent to retrieve your things promptly returned, handing you your things. You thanked him quickly, not wanting to take your eyes off of Harry. You slip your jumpsuit on over your clothes, and change into the custom Love on Tour adidas sneakers that had been made for the band. 

Kiwi ended, and Harry waved and bowed to the crowd before running offstage and immediately into your arms. 

“You were amazing, Harry. I’m so proud of you.” You whisper to him. You feel him nod against your neck in reply. 

You allow him a few more moments of comfort before you know you need to set yourself on stage. The band had stayed out there, getting position for this final song. “Baby?” You ask softly, getting his attention as you step back from your embrace. “I’ve gotta get out there, you going to be okay?” 

Harry nods, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “You’ll be close, yeah?” 

You smile at him, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. “Right next to the piano.” You give him one last kiss and make your way to the stage. 

You step out, smiling and nodding at your former bandmates, hearing the whispers and questions from the crowd start to pick up.

“Is that Y/N?”

“He must have asked her to come back for the last show.” 

“But why is she only coming out now?” 

The murmurs quickly turn to cheers when they realize that it is in fact you on stage. This meant that whatever was about to happen was definitely going to be something big. As you waited for Harry to re-emerge, you looked out over the crowd. You had been in the thick of it during the show, but seeing it from the stage was an entirely different experience. 

As you were admiring the hordes of people who had come out just to see Harry, you were pulled from your thoughts by an eruption from the crowd. You looked to your left and watched Harry return to stage, quickly wiping away the remnants of the tears he had shed backstage. 

He took a seat at the piano, looking up at you. When you looked back, you saw a storm of emotions, but mostly you saw vulnerability. Harry was never one to shy away from expressing emotions onstage, but this was different. 

He spoke a few quick words in Italian before moving the microphone away and beginning to play. You had heard him play this song so many times since he had initially brought it to you a few weeks ago, but hearing it like this, as he intended it to be, was an unreal, once in a lifetime experience. The crowd of over one hundred thousand people were completely silent, everyone’s attention directed at Harry. 

You felt a nudge, and your attention quickly turned to your right. You saw the rest of the band preparing to come in, and you remembered that you were there to do a job. Your time just being the supportive girlfriend was on pause, you had to be a musician now. You lifted your flute to your lips, and joined in, your eyes never leaving Harry. 

Before long, the last note was played, and Harry stood from the piano. The crowd burst into cheers and applause like you’d never heard before. He bowed to the crowd before turning to face the band, mostly to express his gratitude to them, but you knew it was also a chance for him to compose himself. 

His eyes locked on you, and he immediately started moving in your direction, wrapping you in his arms. You returned the embrace, rubbing soothing circles over the bejeweled fringe on his back. 

“You did amazing, Harry.” You tell him. “This is all for you, go take it in. You deserve it.” 

He pulls back and gives you a tearful smile before taking your hand and walking to the center of the stage, signaling for everyone else to join. The group takes a bow to thunderous applause. As you all stand, Harry steps forward, drinking in every second of the fanfare. He moved to either end of the stage, thanking the fans by waving and blowing kisses. When he returns to center stage, he pauses again this time dropping to his knees, his hands covering his face. Completely overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment. 

Even though the band is sharing their own moment, hugging and congratulating each other, you are frozen in place, eyes locked on Harry. You were so focused on him that you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face. 

When he finally stood, he gave the crowd one more smile and wave before turning to exit the stage. As soon as he turned around, he saw you and smiled walking straight for you. You both moved at the same time, cupping each other’s faces in your hands wiping the other’s tears away with your thumbs. Chuckling at the synchronized movements. 

You pulled him into your arms, and his face immediately nuzzled into your neck. You could feel the moisture from the new tears dropping onto your skin. 

“I’m so proud of you, Harry.” You coo. “It couldn’t have gone any better.” 

He pulled back to look at you. “Thank you for being here.” 

“Nowhere I’d rather be.” You state plainly. He smiles and starts leaning in toward your lips. You jerk back quickly. “Baby, we’re still onstage.” 

“Don’t care,” he leans back in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. 

You pull away with a smile. “Ready?” 

He nodded silently, stepping out of your embrace and turning to the crowd one last time to blow them a final farewell kiss. He then took your hand and led you off the stage and into your new post-tour life. 

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- pregnancy, 18+ words and themes overall, Child Birth, Description of childbirth, Angst. Gender reveal!!!

// A/N: just wanted to apologize for the broken links at the beginning of the book since i changed my username they haven’t been working but i assure you I’ll get to fixing them. I will also end up making a goggle docs with the entire book for downloading when this series ends//

previous chapter here.

CHAPTER 21

Winter fell as cold as it maybe in the middle of winter, is not nearly as cold as castle black, being on the absolute edge of the frozen waste land. You do not have to layer as much and once in a while a spot of sun peaks in from the frozen clouds. 

Although there is far less to do now with a full staff you still find a way to enjoy yourself. Playing little games with Sansa, or reading books from the library. You even enjoy watching joss spire with podrick as they’ve spent more time together, though you’ve been avoiding his lady Brienne of Tarth. 

You do so now as you watch the two of them spire with wooden swords as they laugh.

”your grace. It is an honor to speak to you once more now so at such a high standing.” A familiar graining voice hits your ears as lord petyr Baelish, little finger walks up beside you. 

“Lord Baelish..” you say he nods a bit before opening his mouth and speaking once again. 

“I want to personally apologize for the loss of your husband, Ser clegane. you are far too young and beautiful to be subject to widowing status.” He says. 

”you flatter me.” You say dully. Not really interested in what he has to say. 

“I try my best as i-“ 

“What do you want lord Baelish.” You interrupt him. 

“Nothing your grace, except for your happiness and safety.” He answers. 

“Mm I am safe. i'm surrounded by family and friends and I have joss and the other guards to protect me.” You speak.

“What about happy?” Baelish asks you turning his entire body to watch your facial expression drops. 

“Why arnt you happy? What do you want that you dont already ha-“ before he can continue his words you cut him off Turing your head to look his straight in the eyes. A sort of anger burning within. 

“My husband.” You speak plainly starring daggers into his soul. Heavy footstep sound through the frozen boards of the deck behind you interrupt the conversation. 

Baelish looks up slightly knowing its Breanne as she's the only as tall as where his gaze lands to be. Lord Bealish opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he gets the chance. 

“No need to grab the last word my lord…i will assume it is something clever..” you say turing your focus back to the landscape. 

He huffs before speaking. 

“My lady…your Grace.” He says and turns before taking his leave away from 

you. 

“Your Grace-“ Brienne begins. 

“I dont wish to speak to you.” You say as you turn walking down the platform

“Your Grace please, if you’d just allow me to apologize!.” She calls out to you following you. 

“What part about i do not wish to speak to you do you not understand?! I do not want to speak to you? Should i say it plainly for you to understand, shall i have to shout it out to you?!” You bark at her angrily. She drops, kneeling beneath you. 

“Your Grace please. I am deeply sorry that the fate of your husband was met by my hands. If i had known-“ 

“If you had known that it was my husband would you have ceased your actions? Or would you continue to ‘protect’ the stark girls. From any a threat?” You huff out.

 She dosnt speak just keeps her head low. Your anger is pushed aside by a painful flare as your hand places itself on your belly. 

“I know there might never be a state of pardon for my actions tword your family but i rest assure you i will do anything and everything in my power you try and make up for the loss.” She says you place your hand on her shoulder not as a console but to keep yourself steady as another pain passes through you rendering your knees to almost buckle. 

“Your grace..?” Brienne looks up at you seeing you in pain. 

She stands and takes hold of you to help steady yourself. You gather up your skirt slightly to see blood and liquid.

“Fuck..the babe is coming.” You say looking up to her.

”w-what? Are you quite certain?!” She asks worriedly. Another uncomfortable pain pulls through your body as it nearly takes you out. 

”JOSS! JOSS!” Brienne yells he looks up and drops everything running as fas as he can up the steps to you both. 

“The babe is arriving get the midwife and maester NOW!” Brienne yells at him. 

“Ive got you your grace. Can you take steps?” She asks you nod taking a few steps before the pain buckles under you. 

“Its alright.” Brienne says before carefully lifting you up into her arms hurriedly but carefully carrying you to your chambers when your ladies in waiting arrange everything as best as they can. 

”my lady.” You hear joss's voice as the master and the midwife rush in. 

“GET HIM OUT!” You yell 

“come along joss.” Brienne says. 

“NO! Him!” You yell about the maester not wanting to be examined or touched by a man, maester or otherwise. 

“Your grace i do not think-“ the master is interrupted by another groan of pains from you before Brienne shoves his out of the room. your ladies help out of your restricting dress leaving you in your under dress. 

“Your grace you need to lay down so i may examine you.” The midwife speaks. You let out a shaky breath as you take to the bed and lay back. Brienne closes the door and her and joss stand on either side of it watching outwards. 

————

Your groans and screams of pain can be heard through almost every part of the castle, leaving everyone to stop in their business and wait in hopes for a baby's cry. 

You hold onto Lucy’s hand and the side post of the bed as you endure the worst physical pain. She tells you words of encouragement, but you know something is wrong as tears pour down your cheeks. 

“no… NO NO!” You scream.

“It’s alright your grace.” Lucy says pleading with you.

“n-no no.. something’s w-wrong.” You panicing, shaking.

“he should be out by now…something….s-someth-AHH!” You scream the pain overwhelming you.

You let go of her hand as you pull away and move to stand up. 

“Y/n?!” She protests. 

“let me up!” You say to your midwife. 

“Your grace you need stay.” she says. 

“UP!” You yell they nod and help you up the only thing covering your nude body is the blood stained cotton sheet wrapped around you. Yet even that falls to floor as you hobble to the edge of the room lucy following close behind waiting for any moment.

“Your grace you need to push!” One midwife says you lean forward against a table holding your self up looking down as blood drips onto the stone flooring. The weight of your self fall in as you drop to you knees.

“NO NO PLEASE!” You scream at your unborn child 

You scream as the pain surged through your body. You hand grips side of the chair so tightly your knuckles turn white and and the skin peels back on your palm. You scream murder into the air as your lungs burn. 

Your arms and legs shake leaving your muscles to ache. Sweat pours through your skin. Your vision is blurred, stained with teary eyes shut tight. Your hands and legs bloodied the fear you’ll die during this. A rush of the last bit of pain follow through your body. As you look down between your legs seeing a baby, purplish pink and pale only slightly misshapen from the effects of birth. 

Your midwife runs to you checking on you briefly before taking a hold of the baby and taking a towel to it before tying off the cord. Your worry fills your heart as you were told a healthy baby is supposed to cry. But just as your worry was placed it fades with the loud and hearty cry of your child. 

you sigh in relief as you sucsesfully gave birth but a soreness washes over over as the other women help you up and back to the bed to help ease the after birth. As your child is placed in your arms. 

“Its a boy your grace, you have a son.”

You cant help but begin to sob as he rests in a towel and blanket in your arms. You shakily breath trying to catch your breath from crying and the after birth pains. But they soon go away as your focus on your sons face is so perfectly combined of yours and sandors. He has his fathers hair color, but for now he looks like a chubby little new born baby, early, tiny but healthy. You can hear slight cheering outside your door from those celebrating the new prince's arrival. 

“May i get him cleaned up your grace?” Your midwife asks. You nod, handing him back to her carefully as she takes his aside in the room to begin cleaning him up a bit. 

“Well done.” Lucy says giving you a hug you hug her back. She helps you up a bit so they can help clean you off change the bed sheets and change out of wear putting you in something comfortable before making sure any residual bleeding will be taken care of. 

You rest in bed as the wife gives him back to you now all cleaned in the tiny nightclothes and a blanket. Fore the first time out side of his safe place in your womb, he has his first meal as he latches onto your breast with ease. 

Once hes done and you’ve rested you allow them all to vist first Sansa runs into your room and is in absolute awe of him his little hand gripping her finger. 

“Y/n he’s precious.” She says you smile proudly at what you and sandor created. 

“Hes going to grow into a strong man just like his father your grace.” The midwife says smiling. You nod a bit sad. 

“If only he were here.” You say. Sansa gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Lucy? Will you let joss in please?” You ask she nods and goes to the door opening it as joss enters. 

“Your grace.” Joss says giving you a smile. 

“Come here, come meet the little prince.” You say he smiles and hurries over to you leaving over as you show him your son. He smiles at the baby. 

“Hes got the lord cleganes hair.” He chuckles making you laugh and nod. 

“Would you like to hold him?” You ask. He looks worried at first but you place him into his arms and he holds him perfectly. 

“Oh. Have you thought up any name?” Sansa asks. 

“I did. I was thinking maybe i should name his after his father carryon the sandor clegane second of his name…” you trail off. 

“Perfect name your grace.” Joss says as he admires the little human in his arms. 

“Indeed…but then I remembered someone whose name I would love more for my son to have than his fathers…Joss.” You say. 

“Hmm?” Joss asks, humming as hes still glued to the baby. Sansa giggles as he hasn’t figured it out.  He looks to you confused for a split second before you nod to your son. His eyes begin to well up in with tears. 

“Wh-what?” He asks. 

You smile at him nodding. 

“Joss Dortain clegane.” You speak your brothers name as your sons middle. 

“Your gr- y/n. Im so honored.”he says you smile to him opening your arms and giving him a hug your son still in his arms. 

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[be-lovas]

Serendipity- part 2

How can I apologize for these months of inactivity??? omg guys i'm SO sorry....... I spent the whole summer working on my master thesis so I got carried away from this but I am back now!!! I've tried to tag everyone who asked me to do so, tell me if something's wrong with the tags &lt;;33

Warnings: some men being dicks (but what's new), loose proofreading (I really suck at this I'm sorry), reader's bit sad, helaena being a sweetie

(Flashbacks are in italics) previous part - next part

"Tell me it is a farce, Aemond. I beg of you."

Alicent is on the verge of tears: she thinks of Rhaenyra and how she must be feeling. The loss of a child. She also feels sad for the boy himself, because although he was a bastard, he was merely a child. A feeling of regrets washes over her as she recalls that night in Driftmark, when she wanted to claim his eye for Aemond's lost one.

Aemond does not say a word. He does not feel the courage to do so. He never killed someone before. He has always thought that killing someone wouldn't do anything to him. Yet, to take someone's life,despite the someone being the boy who took his eye, procures him no satisfaction and no sense of justice. All he can think of is his nephew's body hurtling into the sea foam.

Aemond solely waits for everyone's anger, but not everybody seems angry. His mother definitely is, but his Grandfather and Aegon do not seem furious. Otto Hightower seems worried, because he has known Daemon for a long time, and he knows having him against you is not a luxury. Aegon is simply trying to supress a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Well done, brother," he comments.

"We need to secure Aegon's position," Otto eventually says, ignoring Aegon's comment.

Alicent lets out a histerical laugh, unable to control her nerves. "I believe Aemond just did that by killing one of Rhaenyra's heirs, Father."

"By marrying Aemond and Daeron off to great houses from the Realm."

"I chose Floris Baratheon," Aemond intervenes. "I intend to perform my duty."

He does not want to marry her, but he always promised himself to do his duty regarding his family. He has always seen Aegon minimizing his and wandering around the Silk Streets as he has always had the heavy duty of potentially becoming King someday. Aemond hates the fact that his brother tarnishes this honor, and he does not intend to do the same.

"We must find someone else," explains Otto.

"Perhaps the Dornish Princess? They might send troops in exchange," Alicent offers.

"They would rather die than openly take part in this war," Ser Criston comments, stepping up into the conversation for the first time since they entered the Great Hall.

"The Lannisters do not have any female child. Same goes for House Tyrell."

"What of the North?" Aegon suggests, and everyone goes quiet.

The North is ostracised. Its people may be a part of the Realm, but they do not identify as the rest of the Country. Otto Hightower has always seen them as a group of savages that attempt to appear civilized while hiding their gods in forests. However, Otto Hightower has always granted them their blinded loyalty towards each other and their considerable army.

"Rickon Stark swore loyalty to Rhaenyra," Alicent hastens to say. "He would never break his oath."

Her voice is unequivocal. She does not appear to acknowledge what she just suggested, but Otto does and gives Ser Criston a sidelong look.

"Rickon Stark is dead, My Queen."

-

You slowly emerge from sleep and keep your eyes closed, afraid not to recognise the ceiling of your chambers in Winterfell and to have the confirmation that you are indeed into your personal purgatory. You're feeling uncomfortable, and you remember that you're still wearing your wedding gown from yesterday. Worse, you realise you are alive. You thought that you would be dead by sunrise, but your husband finds it was not an express necessity to get you executed for mocking him.

A soft knock on your door startles you, and as if you were scared to be caught doing something wrong, you quickly get off your bed. You allow them entering and when the door opens, you are relieved to see that it is just a young servant.

"Good morning, my Lady. Queen Helaena and the Dowager Queen would like you to join them for tea," she indicates.

You rub your hands on your gown, looking at your dress before glancing back at her. None of you says anything, but you are positive that she has definitely understood your husband and you did not fulfill your marital duties last night.

"I will fetch a maid to help you get dressed, my Lady," she bows and leaves without expecting a reply, and you feel sick at the hearing of the way she adresses you.

-

As your feet obediently follow the maid who came to wake you up this morning through the dungeon's hallways, you gradually realise where you have been taken: in some of the books of the Winterfell library, the fortress is described as being so high that not even the three original dragons could penetrate the walls. The stone that built the tower was more refined than the stone of Winterfell's walls: in the North, everything is more raw. Here, everything seems shaped and moulded.

Your feet mechanically come to a full stop when your eyes spot something very familiar: an heart tree. You think of the leaf your brother gave you before leaving Kings Landing, claiming that the gods will travel South in order to protect you. For the first time since you got here, you somehow still feel close to home.

Just as you were expecting to have tea in the Dowager Queen's chamber (which you know too little about), Anna, Queen Alicent's servant, takes you to the court garden, which you did not know existed until now. When you arrived, you thought you would have to live within four walls and never see vegetation as far as the eye can see again. To your great surprise, you find the garden delightful and it is, in your eyes, a breath of fresh air in this fortress that seems far too anxiety-provoking.

When you see the Queen and her mother sitting at the table among the flowers, you force yourself to smile and slowly approach, a servant pulling the chair out for you to sit on. Before doing so, you make a brief curtsy to greet them.

"Good morrow, goodsister," Helaena is the first to greet you.

If you have prejudices about all of Aemond's family and Aemond himself, you have none about his sister. On the contrary, she seems very kind and gentle. It doesn't surprise you that you've heard that she is very popular with the people of Kings Landing.

"Your graces," you reply, verbally greeting Alicent simulteanously.

On her lap sits a small boy with silver hair. The child is eating a sweet without caring about what is going on around him.

"Did you sleep well?" Alicent asks, and you see her eyes drift to her maid for half a second.

Anna must surely have told her that she found you in the same dress as yesterday when she came into your room this morning. If she hasn't already, she's probably giving her a little nod, letting Alicent know that things didn't go as planned.

"Uh, I—"

"I was told you bled last night. Do not worry, it is completely normal. It means the wedding has been accepted and granted by the gods," she smiles, cutting you off. "You were saying?"

Words struggle to come out of your mouth. No one has checked your sheets because the only people who have been in your room have guessed that you were not deflowered by your husband last night. Or maybe it's just a set-up by the Queen Mother so that people around can witness her words, and thus seal this marriage. Whatever it is, you don't stand in her way.

"I slept well, thank you," you evasively reply while nodding your head.

"I have not yet seen Aemond. He usually stops by to greet the children before starting the day. Do you happen to know where he has gone?" Helaena asks you, wiping off some crumbs from the boy's mouth. "Maelor has been asking for his uncle since he woke up."

In all honesty, you do not care about Aemond's whereabouts. You'd rather not have to see him. Given the short but heated exchange the two of you had last night, you feel it would be better for both of you if you two come across each other as little as possible, it will make this marriage easier to bear.

"He has not spoken to me about it. I—"

Maelor's voice prevents you from finishing your sentence. The little boy flaps around on his grandmother's lap while babbling words you don't understand.

"Aemond!" Helaena stands up quickly, almost running towards her brother. "Where have you been?"

If Helaena looks excited to see her brother, the Queen Mother's features cannot say the same thing. Sitting across from you, you see the Queen's features harden, which tingles and causes you to turn around to see what could the cause of such a change in Alicent's humour.

Opposite you is Aemond accompanied by a woman. Not a young woman like you. A mature woman.

You analyse her without shame: slender, with hair as black as berries and an unmatched beauty. She is incredibly beautiful. You feel her gaze on you with an air of competitiveness, as if she is trying to challenge you.

Then it strikes you, and you find yourself wanting to laugh, feeling foolish for not understanding Aemond's words last night.

My heart will never be yours.

It can never be yours because it belongs to someone else.

Somehow, you find the empathy to feel bad for him. You did not want this union because your heart did not choose it and it was forced on you. Aemond did not want this union, or the union originally planned with one of Borros Baratheon's 4 daughters, because his heart belongs to her and as strong as his words were towards you yesterday, you feel some semblance of sorrow for him.

"Mother," Aemond greeted his mother with a nod. Then, just like a child afraid to be grounded, he glances at you. "Wife."

It still sounds off to hear this word. It still seems odd to consider yourself married, you do not really feel married. But that is only because all your life, you've pictured marriage in a very different way.

"Husband," you mutter as you swivel around on your chair to get back into your original position.

Facing you, Alicent's features harden even more as she keeps her eyes on her son, who sits silently at the table. The mysterious lover imitates him, searching for the Queen Mother with her eyes.

"Would you have the decency to tell me who this woman is?" Alicent's tone is cold and firm, and she doesn't bother to address the main interested party.

Alicent Hightower is known as far north as Westeros for her dexterity in matters of good behaviour. She didn't experience love during her marriage, but she always put on a good show. Inviting a lover to the royal table does not seem to be a decision she considers wise.

"This is Lady Alys Rivers," Aemond introduces, Alys reacts with a gentle smile. He's now playing with Maelor on his lap, the boy running to his uncle as soon as he saw him.

You level up your eyebrows at the mention of her name. Rivers. A bastard of House Strong. You exchange glance with Helaena, not that she realises the gravity of her brother's action, but she seems as uncomfortable as you are, and it selfishly soothes you.

Then all eyes set on Alicent as she lets out uncotrollable giggles, which makes her grandson laugh. "Lady Alys Rivers," she says, more to herself than anyone else.

"It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, your Grace."

Her voice is smooth and seductive. If Aemond wasn't a Prince, you would have wondered how she could have laid an eye on him: not that Aemond is a bad-looking person, but his personnality is not attractive at all. He is not a talkative person and does make you feel uncomfortable if your presence is not wanted. While Alys Rivers seems to be a very seductive woman, both with men and women.

She knows she does not fit in whatever plan the Queen Mother has planned for her son, but she tries her best to earn the lesser part of respect Alicent could someday accord her.

Alicent forces a thin smile before adressing Aemond once again: "may I speak to you?"

Not waiting for Aemond's answer, she immediately gets up and vaguely excuses herself, Aemond on her footsteps.

The life that has forced itself to you does not seem real. You feel like you are watching a play where the plot evolves around people close to you, but you do not intervene in any part of this plot.

"Aemond spoke a lot about you, your Grace," Alys tries to reach Helaena, who is far away in her thoughts. In fact, she simply reacts by smiling slightly, her eyes focused on the lemon cake displayed on the table.

Maelor, who seems to feel his mother's anxiety, surprisingly reaches out for you and for a moment, you do not really understand how the boy has grown fond of you, but you eventually let him sit on your lap, whispering some words to his ear.

"The whole North heaps praise on your beauty, and I now see why," she says, and you do not look up right away, focused on Maelor's babbling and truthfully thinking that the compliment was meant for Helaena. But when you do, you see that she is staring at you.

You do not really how to respond. Should you compliment her as well? Strike up a conversation? Ask her why is she complimenting the wife of her lover?

"Thank you," you timidly say, not really comfortable with the situation. The only thing that makes your anxiety lessen is Maelor, not having any idea of what is going on right now and eating his lemon cake slice.

-

You feel imprisoned in the middle of a play. Someone else's play.

Your days are very similar to one another: you get up, get dressed, join Queen Alicent and Helaena in the gardens where you eat, you wander in the gardens for the whole afternoon and spend some time near the heart tree before getting supper, where Aemond and his lover sometimes grant you the privilege to eat with them, before going back to your chambers.

Not that your days in Winterfell were very special, but it is home. Was home.

Your mother and brother are still not back in Winterfell. The trip is difficult and long, but your mother keeps you informed whenever they stop by in a place that she considers safe for them.

The rare moments when you have to get out of your chambers, you do your very best to avoid everyone from the Greens, except for Helaena and her children. Helaena is very often lost in her own thoughts, but she is very nice to you when she tries to have a conversation. As for the children, you appreciate their unawareness and their innocence as you watch them play together.

Maelor has turned out to be your favorite one out of the three children: not that she intends to, but Helaena's favors for the twins is undeniable, and the youngest Prince seems almost naturally to seek comfort in your presence. In truth, you somehow seek comfort in the boy's company, too: you've grown fond of him, and he is now following you for the most part of the day, for the greatest pleasure of Alicent.

Alicent has been plotting to remove Alys from the court since the day she arrived, but it does not seem to be effective. Whenever she leaves, Aemond leaves with her. Your relationship with Aemond consists of avoiding each other, and greeting the other by a timid nod when the encounter becomes inevitable.

But now, as you are wandering in the streets of Kings Landing hiding your clothes under a cloak and you just happened to chance upon your dear husband, he too hidden under a cloak but easily recognizable with his eyepatch, you are both surprised to meet the other one in such a place.

"My Prince," you eventually say, growing uncomfortable with the heavy silence between you. You discreetly hide the ink you just bought below your cloak.

This is the first time you go outside the walls of the Red Keep. You have grown curious about the City after watching it from your window and just as you wanted to send a letter to your brother in all discretion, you have decided to take the plunge.

"What are you doing here?"

The bluntness of his question catches you offguard. You let out a humourless laugh.

"I could ask you the very same question."

You do not consider yourself arrogant, not at all. You would rather say confident. But Aemond carries a certain look on his face that irritates you as soon as he lands his eye on you.

You expect him to answer with a vile comment about whatever thing he can hurt your feelings with, but he simply replies: "I live here. This is merely a morning walk."

Your eyebrows raise at the reply, noting that Aemond does not even try to sound convincing. He simply does not wish you to know about his whereabouts around the streets of Kings Landing.

"Is there a piece of advice you would give to someone who has never been to Kings Landing before?" You ask him, feigning innocence, too.

Around you, people cross the street without even giving a second glance to the two of you, too busy in trying to find the suitable item among the many street merchants.

"Avoid Flea Bottom at all cost," he tells you, "unless you wish to end up dead or raped."

"I meant advice about the shops," you specify, remembering you were speaking to Aemond Targaryen.

"I think you do not need my advice, as you already found what you were looking for," he nods at your cloak, and you cannot help but frown. You quickly try to hide your ink more astutely under your cloth, hoping that he is bluffing and that he hasn't seen the item like he pretends.

"There is no need. I saw you coming out of that bookseller, and a book wouldn't have fit under that cloak," he points out, attempting to soothe the smirk forming on his lips without much success.

You think of something to say to persuade him this isn't what he thinks it is, but quickly surrender when you spot the way his lips twitch into a smirk.

"Are you following me?" You ask, struggling to hide your growing anger.

"I wasn't, but the gods seem to be protective over some Northern newcomers."

You snort slightly, doing your best not to roll your eyes. His gods would certainly not protect you. On the opposite, they would gladly send you to their supposedly hells: you wonder which one you would belong to.

"By sending you?" You raise your brows, displaying your doubts.

This is the longest exchange your husband and yourself have done since the two of you were married, and Aemond's clenching jaw and your growing impatience for his lack of response show how you aren't a matching pair: you're asking too many questions and his answers are to evasive.

"My Mother would like to speak with you," he announces, stepping forward and you stumble lightly at the move. "I shall make sure you join her in the Sept."

The second you were told that you would marry him and therefore move to Kings Landing, you knew your beliefs would be jeopardized. Indeed, the folk on the southern part of Westeros isn't fond of the old gods, especially with a Dowager Queen who venerates the newly seven. You knew your love for the old gods wouldn't be welcomed here, but you still kept them close to your heart by paying a visit to the weirwood tree in the fortress.

"The Sept?"

Aemond stops in his tracks as he hears the sound of your voice, and even though he is standing with his back to you, you can see the top of his body slowly rise and fall, probably because he is sighing.

"Come," he simply tells you, though it is rather a command.

You reluctantly follow him through the crowd piled up in the different streets of the city. He seems to know it like the back of his hand, and you wonder how many times he wandered throughout it for him to know every single corner of every single street.

Aemond does not need to inform you that you have reached the Sept when you are in front of it, as the tall and imposing building speaks for itself.

You wonder why Alicent wishes to see you, and especially why it cannot wait until she's finished praying to her gods. Will she force you to pray with her? Does she want you to admit that you do not believe in the same gods as herself and her son?

As Aemond grips the door handle of the Sept, the movement allows you to have a glimpse of the underside of his cloak and you notice some sort of herb sachets underneath. Yet, you make no comment and enter the building silently, your husband holding the door for you.

"Lady Stark," your hear Alicent's voice echo through the sept, and you spot where she is knealing. She is in front of an imposant statue where candles are lit all around. You would lie if you say that there isn't something comforting in the silence emaning from the Sept. Outside of these walls, Kings Landing seems to never be quiet: including when you couldn't sleep during the hours of the night, you could hear the wandering guards trying to speak lowly outside of your doors.

You carefully walk towards the Dowager Queen as you see she does not move, waiting for you to come over.

"Your Grace," you slightly bow your head, hands clasped in one another.

"Join me, please," she smiles at you, and you see her hand patting the empty space next to her.

You attempt to hide the discomfort you feel towards her invitation: you do not wish to get on your knees to pray the Seven, but this is clearly an invitation in order to test the waters.

Having her on your side is essential if you consider leaving this place someday: from what you have understood since you arrived here, she is Aemond's safeguard from madness. She would be the one reasoning him if he tries to put your life at risk, not because she is a decent person that took a liking of you, but because she is a good manners woman.

You reluctantly kneel beside her, your eyes wandering around the ceiling before staring at your knees.

"Do you often pray, my dear?" She asks, handing you a votive candle that isn't yet lit up.

"I do, your Grace," you respond, moving the candle nearer the fire of those already burning. Once your candle catches fire, you delicately set it down next to the others. As you catch Alicent setting her gaze on you, you do your best to keep your composure and to prevent your hands from shaking.

Then she lets out a sigh. "I've always wondered about the religious habits of people from the North. It is said that many still believe in the old gods."

You're tempted to say something, but the end of her sentence does not sound as the end of a speech, so you let your sentence die and keep silent.

You see her smile, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes. "They are proud and loyal people. Loyal to their roots and to their oaths."

"Indeed," you answer, not sure where she wants to lead this conversation.

"You see, I fear for those people," she lets out a sigh. "Have you heard of the Shepherd?"

You say no with your head. "See, this man is out there, trying to persuade the people of Kings Landing that the King does not represent the Faith of the Seven."

You listen carefully. Aegon is indeed not a very accurate representation of the Faith: marrying his sister and therefore breeding incestuous children is a sin, whether in the Faith of the Seven as in the eyes of the Old Gods. You also learned that he was very often visiting the most luxurious brothels of Kings Landing: his bastards must be running freely around the streets of the city.

"He is setting the common folk against its ruler," you comment, getting where she wants to lead you.

"It is our duty, I as the Dowager Queen and you as the King's good sister to show the people our devotion to our gods."

This is why she wanted me here, you think. So that you could be seen entering the Sept.

"People are everywhere. Around the streets, outside the gates but also within the Keep," she explains, and you understand her innuendo.

No more visit to the heart tree.

"We must be irreproachable. You must seem beyond reproach," she cautiously says, softly gripping your arm. You glance at her hand on your arm, and all you can see is her bitten and chapped fingers. "Do you understand, my dear?"

The Targaryens are in danger, but so are you. You're all threats in the eyes of this Shepherd.

"I do, Your Grace."

-

Since the Queen Dowager has expressly asked you to be convincing in your role as follower of the new gods, you thought you'd start by paying homage to the Mother, reason why you're currently heading to the Tower of the Hand to discuss the idea with the man.

However, your good brother has decided otherwise as he comes the other way, flashing a smile as he takes you in.

"Lady Stark," he calls out. "We haven't got the time to discuss yet."

"Your Grace," you bow, returning a shy smile. "Sadly we have not."

You would have been happy not to change the course of things, but you've noticed that Aegon likes annoying people and does not prevent himself.

Aegon Targaryen is a strange man. You sometimes see him wandering through the halls of Maegor's Holdfast struggling to walk straight, a cup of wine in one hand. He is not the man crafted to be King, you would even say that the crown he is wearing does not even fit around his many white curls.

"Is Kings Landing to your liking?" He asks.

"Though it is not very similar to Winterfell, I find myself liking it, Your Grace," you lie.

"I am content you're happy here," he says, dismissing his guards by a handwave. You look at the two guards retreating, leaving you and the King alone. You instinctively look down, somehow uncomfortable with the mere thought of you two alone.

"What of my brother?" Aegon questions and you look up to find him taking two steps forward.

You do not really know how you should respond: given the undeniable satisfaction your marriage to Aemond gave to Aegon, the two brothers do not seem to get along.

"What of your brother, Your Grace?"

"Is he kind to you? Is he treating you well?"

"He is, Your Grace," you lie. "We are getting a-"

"Do not lie to me, goodsister," he interrupts, his eyes boring into yours as you feel his hand grazing the skin of your cheek. "Lying to a king is not a wise thing. Don't you think?

You feel your face flashing red. He can sense your uncomfort, but does not seem to care.

He wants to make you feel uncomfortable. He wants you to know he has the upper hand and could do anything he wishes to you.

"There is no need to be ashamed, Lady Stark. Perhaps I could show you how-"

"Your Grace."

The voice calling out Aegon instinctively makes you close your eyes, relief invading your whole being as you hear footsteps approaching.

"Brother," Aegon's hand beats a hasty retreat from your face and he smiles, but his smile does not reach his eyes. "I was just discussing with your dear wife."

"The Lord Hand is waiting for Lady Stark and myself in his study."

Not without some courage, you slowly step backwards until you are nearly standing next to Aemond. He does not look at you, he is staring at his brother in silence. You could almost find the silence uncomfortable: turns out you're to stunned to notice the uncomfort of the scene.

"Of course, he probably wishes to speak to you about Casterly Rock," Aegon explains and you furrow your brows, displaying your ignorance. What is it to know about the Lannisters' home?

"Please do give Daeron my regards, will you?" Aegon says to his brother.

Aemond does not make any comment but simply bows and you imitate him, a breath you didn't know you were holding escaping your lips when you see Aegon going backwards and eventually turning around.

Aemond seems to finally notice your presence and turns to you. His eye is scanning your face, searching for any trace of harm Aegon might have left. Only when he hears you sighing of relief do his features slightly soften.

Then, without being aware of the words leaving your lips, you whisper: "I am sorry."

You do not really comprehend the reason of your apologises. Perhaps it is for your recklessness. Perhaps for his affair with Alys Rivers that will never flower the way he wants it to do so, or even for your mere and arranged marriage. You do not actually know, but you feel the need to say so.

Nodding his head, he simply responds: "come, my Grandsire wishes to speak to us."

You have quickly noticed that he isn't a very talkative person, so you aren't surprised when you don't receive a formal reply. But for the first time since your marriage, you almost feel at ease standing next to him.

-

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