#Not the first time they almost turned their father from an Is to a Was in my aus tbh

[eraenaa]

Loathe to Love

Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader

Synopsis: Seeking forgiveness is not a thing Aemond bothers himself with, but that quickly changes when he deeply offended you.

Warnings: ¿Softer Aemond?, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Targcest, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 6,411

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, who, like her brothers, doesn't have Valyrian characteristics. A scene like at dinner, in which Aemond accuses his nephews of being strong and, consequently, his wife too." (!Not related to the past two fics that were Aemond x Reader Wife!)

A blessing or a curse? Neither of you knew how to take and label this marriage devised by your grandsire. It was a final plea to unite your estranged family, offering you as Aemond’s bride because the King’s fading mind was still set on how you and Aemond were entirely fond of each other in childhood. However, that sentiment had completely changed during the fateful night in Driftmark. Whatever fondness you and your uncle had in childhood had rolled away with the tides in your supposed father’s home. Affection turned into animosity, and animosity quickly turned into resentment.

However, with the marriage you and Aemond were succumbed to, you both tried your most ardent effort to work through past differences. And with half a year since your union, you and Aemond had almost fully buried the grievances you harbored against each other. Gone now was the reluctant prince who stood by the end of Sept waiting for his bride, who was practically dragged down the aisle. Looks of unbridled hatred had faded and turned to looks of passion and longing. Deep-rooted loathing was slowly fading into love that both of you had yet to admit to the other. 

You broke fast in the gardens with your husband, a daily tradition that you and him established since the first days of your marriage. Most of the time, it would be just the two of you, but on some days, you two would be joined by his siblings and his mother, who surprisingly did not hold such great bitterness for you when compared to other members of your kin. And on a day such as this, you were joined by the queen and her only daughter, Helaena. “I saw the maids preparing some of the guest chambers. Are we to host a lord and their house, my Queen?” You asked your mother through marriage with a tilt of your head, your hand intertwined with your husband’s under a table, hidden from anyone’s view. 

Aemond raised his eye from the book he was reading and placed it on his mother. “Not particularly guests… your mother and your brothers are set to visit,” She replied, and your brows shot up in surprise. Aemond turned to you, plush lips agape in shock. “Did you not know?” The queen asked, and you shook your head. “No… they had not written to me about such matters,” You said, your lips twitching into a smile of excitement as you had terribly missed our family. You turned to your husband; whatever reaction he had was hidden behind his ever-stoic expression. However, you did feel his hold on your hand grow tighter. Though his animosity towards you had died with every kiss shared and every hour spent in each other’s arms, you could not say that that would be the case for the other members of your family. You could practically feel the tantalizing anger within radiating off him. 

“I’m going to the tiltyard,” Aemond suddenly announced and abruptly stood up, making you sigh. His mother and sister nodded, but before his departure from breakfast, you felt him place a chaste kiss on your temple before walking off. Leaving you wide-eyed and blushing before his kin for neither of you had displayed such affections so openly. The touches and kisses and pleasures you shared were saved for the privacy of your marital chambers, and to have him do such an affectionate action in front of others was completely uncharacteristic of him. You lower your head as you feel your cheeks burn red, but if you had kept your head held up high, you would see a small smile on the queen’s lips, for she too was shocked and amused by her son’s actions. Never had she imagined for her favored son to find a wife that would bring out the warmth and tenderness in him that everyone believed to be lost the day his eye was taken by your younger brother.

For the rest of the day, you were busied with your engagements with the other ladies of the court to the point that the day had faded into the night. It was past the usual time of your supper, and you were certain your husband was preparing himself for bed, which is why it was a surprise when you entered your marital chambers with Aemond seated by the table where a meal for both of you lay, untouched. “You still have not eaten?” You asked as you stood behind your seat that was across your husband’s. “I was waiting for you,” Was all he said, as he motioned for you to sit. You blinked at him; the warm, flickering light of the fire illuminated his silver locks that were unique to your house but you had not inherited. The silhouette cast made his angular, Valyrian features more prominent, and you could not help but feel a small pang of jealousy, for you were never blessed with such acclaimed features that your house was celebrated for. 

You licked your lips and removed your gaze from your husband’s lilac eye. You took your seat and quietly watched him as he placed items of food onto your plate. “You should have eaten earlier,” you said quietly, knowing that Aemond’s last meal was the one you shared in the morning, for your husband did not eat luncheon nor any other small meal to aid him between the morning and the evening. “Like I’ve said, I was waiting for you,” He said as he poured wine into your chalice. You flashed him a small smile of gratitude, and like always, he gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment. “How was your day?” You asked before taking a bit of the temped meal that had been waiting for you along with your husband. “Fine. I trained, I read, and then accompanied my grandsire with business,” he said and took a sip of wine. “And yours?” He asked, and you smiled as you began to recall your day. 

Aemond nodded along as he ate, and you went on to tell him about your day. He had no intention of telling you, but this was his second-most favorite time of each day. He quickly had gotten used to listening to you babble and tell him about the ventures you had just hours before. He had no particular care about the subjects of which you spoke of; all he cared about was hearing you speak. Watching you as you would reenact your encounters or how your expression would change when you told him about the latest gossip in court. He would always note how your voice would grow an octave higher when you spoke of an event you found most entertaining or exciting, and he loved gazing into your beguiling, brown eyes that would twinkle in the candlelight.

“Will you accompany me tomorrow?” You asked as you had finished retelling your day to your husband. “To where?” Aemond asked as he was slightly disappointed that you did not have many anecdotes to share that night; you would usually have prolonged stories that Aemond would listen attentively to until he had fished his meal. “To welcome my mother, father, and brothers by the pits when they arrive,” You say and play with the peas on your plate. Aemond was silent for a moment; you took in a deep breath and thought that perhaps your request was a bit much for him. Though you expected him to act civilly with your kin, wanting him to join you in welcoming them was perhaps a bit much. “Nevermind… I ca—“ Your husband interrupted your sentence. “I shall join you,” he said, and your lips agape in shock once more. 

Aemond bit his tongue to hinder himself from smiling widely at the expression that flashed before your pretty face. His urges announced himself as his eye caught your plump lips parted; amusement and arousal swirling within him. “You will?” You asked, making certain you had heard no false agreement. “My lady wife had made a simple request; of course, I shall oblige it,” He answered and felt his heart flutter as a beaming smile spread to your lips. Aemond felt fire in his veins as you stood from your seat and went to him to place a supposed chaste kiss on his lips, but Aemond wanted more. You gasped as you were pulled to sit on his lap, your kiss deepening with each moment and your body aching with need as Aemond’s hands were holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek. You feel your husband’s need through his trousers and through your dress. 

You moaned at the taste of wine on his tongue. His hand traveled toward your bosom, cupping your tit through the bodice of your dress, his fingers undoing the laces of your gown but the two of you never parted your intertwined lips. Aemond groaned as you accidentally bit his lip, but you would take it that he liked the occurrence as you felt his hips buck upwards and seek friction. Aemond reluctantly parted your lips to gasp for air; he watched you pant, eyes filled with longing and lust, lips swollen and shined with a glossy shine of him. 

You yelped as your husband punched you on the table, sweeping away the meal you two had just shared, the plates and cutlery falling onto the floor with a loud noise, but neither of you heard as you two were completely lost and dazed with want for each other. You pulled Aemond towards you as you wanted to feel his lips once more. Aemond had fully undone the laces of your gown, and you felt the sleeves of it draping off and the hem of it being risen by your husband. You hummed in question as you felt Aemond push you to lie down on the wooden table. You propped yourself by your elbows to see what he was doing. Your eyes locked with his lone one as he sank to his knees. The hem of your dress had bundled up to your waist, and Aemond placed his cold hands at each of your thighs. 

You bit harshly at your lower lip as he placed kisses on each side of your thighs, nipping the soft skin making you whimper at the stinging pain that he would immediately soothe with his tongue. “Aemond,” you called as he continued to tease you, his tongue licking strips upward to your needing heart but would abruptly stop before inching closer towards the place you need his tongue most. “Yes, wife?” He hummed, and you huffed as you sensed tease in his voice. “Please,” You pleaded in ancient tongue, and there was a long pause before he obliged your request. You breathed heavily as Aemond sucked on your delicate pearl, him humming in delight as he tasted your essence and as well to add to your pleasure. 

Your moans accompanied the crackle of the fire as Aemond inserted two of his fingers, him curling the calloused digits and spurring you quickly to your peak. You could not understand how he was so skilled in such endeavors, able to make you quickly come undone even though he confessed himself that before you, he had only laid with a woman once, on the behest of his older brother. 

Aemond smirked as he gazed at you laying on the table you two had your meals on, your pretty face that everyone tried to sell as plain still contorted in pleasure that he was the cause of. Aemond brought his fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean, his other hand undoing the laces of his trousers as his cock painfully sought to be inside you. Aemond had always believed himself to be indifferent to the acts of intimacy, but he quickly learned that that sentiment was completely false when it came to you. On the night after your marriage, he had no plan to partake in the marital act, ready to cut his palm and pretend he beaded you so the court would not have a new gossip piece in the morning. However, that plan was quickly forgotten by just the sight of you undressing behind a divider. The candlelight illuminated your form and created a silhouette of your frame undressing and caused Aemond to need greatly. And ever since that night, the pleasures of the flesh he always thought he was indifferent to quickly turned, and he now harbored the same needing patterns he saw in his brother that he used to frown upon. 

Aemond locked your lips and assisted you off the table, you had thought he would lead you towards your bed, but you frowned through your kiss as he turned you around in his arms, your back resting against his chest, his pulsating length resting against your still hiked up gown. You feel Aemond’s lips move from your lip to your neck, his cold hands forcing your gown downwards and letting it pool at your feet, leaving you exposed. You whispered as his hands made their way to cup and squeeze your breast. The sensitive buds grew taut at the coldness of touch. You hear Aemond take in a deep breath of your scent, and you let out a bubbling moan as his length is placed in the crevice of your bottom, Aemond letting it glide in between your bum. 

You gasped in shock as you felt Aemond push you down onto the table, bending you over the sturdy wood and abruptly entering you without warning. You let out a wry moan as you did not know if you should focus on the pain or pleasure he gave. Aemond bit harshly at his lip as he was incredibly pleasured by the new angle he was taking you in, as well as the sight of you bent over the wooden table. He bundled your dark hair into his hands, feeling the soft silky waves and pulling on it and earning a moan from your lips and caused a further tightening in your cunt. “It would seem that my wife likes to be fucked like a common whore,” He gritted in between thrusts. Aemond knew he pleasured you well, but with this new position, your moans had only grown louder than the past times you had laid. Your cunt grew tighter and more wet, and you were quicker to come undone once more. 

“Yes… yes, Aemond! Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” You cried as he pounded at you from behind. Aemond griped the plump flesh of your behind, watching as the skin grew red from his hold; he moved his hands to your waist as he felt the urge of release coming to him as well. Your moans rang louder in his ears, his name slipping from your lips, urging him to come quickly than past nights. He groaned out your name as he spilled his seed deep inside you, hoping that his seed would finally take as he was already zealous with the thought of you swole with his child. Your dazed mind could barely comprehend Aemond assisting you up from your bent position because all your body could focus on was the peak you had reached and his lips against yours once more. You let your husband carry you to bed, him tucking you in his arms like always, and you drifted to sleep wholly satisfied. 

Aemond placed his gaze upon you, who was practically bouncing in excitement at your spot next to him. You two stood by the pits as a welcoming party for your kin. Aemond placed great restrain upon himself to not let his animosity show when he spotted your brothers landing your little dragons. “Sister!” He heard the boy who took his eye scream, and Aemond felt you let go of his hand to run to your brother. He did not want to entertain the small pang in his heart as you readily let go of his hold to run and warmly embrace the boy who had maimed him beyond repair, but he knew that with your marriage, whatever fondness and understanding you and Aemond had and will develop will be divided with your love for your true family. 

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” You gushed and kissed Lucerys’ cheek; you smiled widely that even though your brother was on the cusp of adolescence, he melted of talc and your mother’s oils. “Your favoritism is showing, sister,” You hear Jacaerys tease, and you sigh in amusement, letting go of Lucerys and moving to embrace your older brother. 

Aemond watched you as you greeted your family with such open warmth and love that he and his kin were never accustomed to. Aemond shifted his gaze to your younger brother, who had a wary look in his oak eyes. Aemond bit his cheeks as he stared down the boy who cowardly shifted his gaze and went closer to you, like a little scared pup hiding behind Aemond’s wife. 

“Where are Baela and Rheana?” You asked as you let go of your embrace of Jacaerys,  looking around the pits. “They went on the ship along with Joffery and the babes. They shall reach by nightfall,” he answered, and you nodded. Your brother’s gaze shifted between you and your husband, who stood by the side, “How… how are you, sister? Is…” He trailed as Aemond challenged his gaze. You gave him a small smile, “I’m fine, Jacaerys, perfectly fine, better now that you are all here.” You said, and Jacaerys hesitantly nodded, not completely believing your sentiments. “Tala,” You hear yourself being called by your stepfather, who stands beside your mother, and you hurriedly go in their direction. “My sweet girl!” Your mother smiled and kissed your cheek as you went to embrace her. “You look more cheery since we left you. Are they treating you well? Or do I have to behead that cunt of a husband that you have?” Daemon asked, and your smile faltered at his words. “Father,” You warned, and you heard him sigh. “They are treating me perfectly well,” You said, and just like Jacaerys, Daemond gave an unconvinced nod. 

You turn to Aemond, who still stands idly by the side; you make hastened steps towards your husband as members of your family remove their riding gear. “Do you wish to return to the keep?” You asked, learning he had grown bored and impatient. He turned his body to face you, his brow raised in question. “I could ride with them in the wheelhouse; you can return to your training if you wish,” You smiled. Aemond studied your eyes; he knew that the words you uttered were for his benefit, but he could not help but think it was you driving him away as you would rather spend time with your family than him. 

“It is not that I wish for you to leave, but if you would rather return to your training or reading, I would completely understand,” You added, and Aemond froze at your words; it was as if you could read his mind. He did not know how you did it, but you had this ability to know things about him without him even saying them out loud. He was quick to learn that you could see past his hardened exterior and see the intent and thoughts he kept to himself. You were the only person who knew him with such a deep level of understanding. “It is fine. I shall wait for you, and we could ride back together to the keep,” He said, and his cold heart ran warm as you flashed him with your beaming smile. 

“What did they do to her?” Jacaerys asked as he stood near his brother and parents. “That last time we were here, she was completely ready to sail off to Essos just to escape him,” he added, and Daemon shook his head, removing himself from the conversation as he, too, was perplexed at how you completely turned your views towards this marriage. “I believe that is what love does,” Rhaenyra sighed, and Daemon scoffed in ridicule from a distance, and Jacaerys quickly shook his head. “Love? You practically had to drag her down the aisle! That is not love… that is some work by a potion slipped into her wine!” Jacaerys disagreed, and your mother breathed out a laugh. “Believe what you want, but your sister is stronger than to let a potion alter her emotions; that affection is brought by love,” She sighed as she, too, was surprised by the outcome of this marriage but was entirely pleased to learn that you found love in a person that all believed had none. 

When all of you returned to the castle, your husband went straight to the tiltyard whilst your parents set off to visit your grandsire. You, however, accompanied your brothers as they wanted to tour around the keep that was once their home. Throughout your whole tour, you could not help but grow curious at the curious and prying glances thrown at the three of you that had faded during the moons of your return to the Red Keep. “They keep staring at us,” You hear Lucerys whisper to Jacareys, who still kept his head held high despite being in the den of vipers. 

“Ignore them,” You whispered to your younger brother. You smile as Jacaeyrs pulls Lucerys towards the tiltyard, hurriedly going down the steps to explore the place they used to frequent as children. You stood by the railings, your eyes catching the flutter of silver hair, your husband training with his sword along with Ser Criston, whom he battled with. You stood steady by your spot by the balcony that overlooks the tiltyard, leaning in on the railing as you watched Aemond impressively train with his sword. It was truly a wonder to watch Aemond with his sword; he was able to command the room with each swing and movement he did. Captivating everyone as he simulated the battlefield, even your brothers stopped their reminiscing to watch him train. Far was he from the little boy he tripped over his wooden sword and struggled to even keep it upright. 

“Well done, my prince, you will be winning tourneys at no time,” You hear Ser Kristen compliment the prince he had molded into a warrior as the tip of Aemond’s sword placed at the knight’s neck. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” You hear your husband reply as you descended down the stairs, making your way to your brothers. “Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked as you paused behind Lucerys and Jacaerys. Aemond’s challenging gaze turned to you, who announced her presence. You stared into his lilac eye and saw it somewhat softened. Aemond clenched his jaw and lowered his sword as the crowd that surrounded him began to dissolve. A clear path leading to you was made, and Aemond crossed it, forgetting about his want to challenge his nephews.

“You were most impressive with your sword,” You complimented lowly as you felt Aemond guide you to the side, and he placed his hand on your lower back. “I am glad that you found that impressive, little wife,” He hummed and wiped his sword, ignoring the stares of your brothers who stood by the side. “Perhaps I should wonder more often to the tiltyard; I would not want to miss an opportunity to watch my husband best the most acclaimed knights of the realm.” You feel your heart flutter as Aemond’s lips twitch into a small smirk. “Perhaps you should,” He said, unable to control the amusement that laced his voice and shinned brightly in his eye. 

“Do you believe what Mother says? That they are in love?” Jacaerys whispered to Lucerys, who looked at you smiling upon your husband, “I… I do not know, perhaps,” he whispered as he noted that the smile on your lips was no pretense nor was it forced. And the gleam in your eyes could only be translated into love. Lucerys shifted his gaze back to his brother as you walked off and Aemond returned to training. “But how? How could our sister love someone like him?” Jacaerys asked incredulously, his voice growing a bit louder. 

Aemond clenched his jaw as he heard your brother’s words. It was a danger to all that rage was quickly bubbling inside him, and he had a weapon in his hold. The one-eyed prince took in deep breaths to calm himself, reminding himself that you were just by the side waiting and watching him. 

But a gnawing feeling in his gut had settled, and he too started to wonder as to how you could ever love someone like him. It is no secret that you and he were raised with opposing views of the world and even clashing families as well. His mother never approved of how your mother had raised you; everything about yours and your brother’s conception and upbringing had brought shame upon the Targaryen name and reputation. And the years before were nothing short of hatred. Yes, the both of you were fond of each other in childhood, but is that enough to undo the following years of animosity and contempt? Will these past moons that were filled with shared understanding and longing be enough to undo the resentment of the past? 

It was enough for him. You were enough of a reason for him to let go of the grudges and grievances harbored. By some divine, paradoxical power, your blessed touch was the only touch that could tend and stitch Aemond’s broken past created by your own kin. Even with all the traditions and honor that were desecrated by your mere birth, Aemond could not help but love you, even if he had not said it out loud. No matter your differences, no matter the truth of your illegitimacy, he loved you truly. 

However, that overflowing affection he had towards you was for you and you alone. The civility he knew that he should display was slipping out from his hold as old hatred for your brothers was starting to wake, and Aemond was not entirely certain if he could control the burning rage in his veins once more. 

You sat next to your husband for a rare family dinner; it was the first time the whole of your clan had been together since your and Aemond’s wedding. You smiled fondly as Baela and Rhaena had already arrived along with your youngest brothers, who were now fast asleep in the nursery. You kept your secret hold on Aemond’s hand as the dinner proceeded, your heart full of joy as you wanted to erase the emotions you were feeling the last time the whole of the family was together with something more pleasant. Gone now was the hatred and agony you felt in your heart as your grandsire ordered your marriage with Aemond. The only thing you now felt for your husband was love. It could be considered ridiculous that with just half a year of marriage, all the deep-rooted anger and ire from the past had completely decimated and turned into blooming love, but that was the truth of it. 

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table.” The king said “The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.” His final plea for peace was supposed to be yours and Aemond’s marriage, but that seemed to do little for the others to bury the grievances made years before. Your hold on Aemond’s hand tightened as you Grandsire removed his mask and exposed his decaying face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king… But your father.” He said and turned to his children, “Your brother,” the king turned to Daemon. “Your husband,” he said to the queen. “And your grandsire.” He finished turning to you and your siblings. “Who may not, it seems…walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts.” He ended. 

You were so entrapped by the speech given by your grandsire that you had not even realized that in the midst of that heartfelt moment, your husband was having a contest of stares amongst your brothers. Not a word by the king affected nor lessened the hatred in their hearts for each other. 

You watched and listened intently as toast from both sides of your families started to circulate to the table, obliging the king’s request for civility and the possibility of unification for your house. By the end of the toasts, the intimate feast once more commenced, and your smile only grew with each passing moment of peace. However, it was quickly taken from you as a roasted pig was placed in front of you and Aemond, our gaze flying to your younger brother, who snickered as he recalled the cruel jest they made at Aemond’s expense years before. “Lucerys,” you hissed sharply in warning. Your heart skipped a beat as your husband let go of your hold and slammed his clenched fist on the table, rendering the room silent. “Final tribute,” He announced, the attention of the entire room upon him. 

“To the health of my nephews. Jace… Luc… and Joffery,” He began, and you felt your hands grow cold at his words, already knowing where this would lead. “Each of them handsome, wise…” He trailed, catching your eyes that pleaded for him to stop and not speak of offense. He, however, ignored your pleas. “Strong,” He ended, and you feel your heart painfully pit in your chest. Your gaze flew to your lap, and you softly shook your head in disappointment, for you had foolishly believed that your husband would at least grow somewhat sensitive at the matter of you and your brother’s true paternity. “Come. Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys!” He announced, and you felt a painful twist in your stomach. 

The peaceful meal between your kin that you had longed for had turned ugly and violent; you shook your head as your husband and his brother, along with your brothers, waltzed back into old patterns and began to brawl and fight each other. You shook your head and stood from your seat, quietly exiting the room and leaving the fight that the other tried to break up. Aemond watched your departing figure, disappointment oozing off your frame as you exited the hall. He turned to your brothers' red and angered faces, and it only dawned upon him the severity of his offense. He was ready to go after you, but his mother pulling on his arm hindered him, the queen scolding her grown son as if he were a boy. 

Moments after, Aemond rushed to your chambers in dire need to speak with you, but you were not there. Aemond walked the darkened corridors of the keep, searching every spot you would frequent but to no avail. Aemond halted in his steps as he heard footsteps and voices approaching. “I’ve told you that they were not suited for each other,” Aemond heard your stepfather say, voice enraged. “You saw how openly he disparaged and humiliated her and her siblings— what more if they were behind closed doors?” Daemon seethed, him having half the mind to march to the king and demand an annulment of your marriage with Aemond.

Aemond clenched his fists in anger as he heard how low the opinion of your stepfather had of him, but that anger was being overpowered by guilt as he recalled your pleading face earlier as you quietly begged him not to speak offense. But Aemond could no longer control himself as being in the presence of your brothers brought back the uninhibited rage he genuinely thought he could control for your sake. Aemond took in a deep breath and stomped off, determined to find you. He scoured the entirety of the keep in search of you, with each passing moment that you were not found added to his guilt and the pang in his chest. It was nearing the hour of the wolf, and Aemond still had not found you. Aemond rarely felt fear; he refused to be in fear of anything, but just by just the mere hours of your absence had him drowning in dread and despair.

Aemond thought of retiring back to your chambers and perhaps try to find you when the sun had risen, but his body could not physically rest without your presence. Aemond found him straying towards the gardens, his feet carrying him towards the weirwood tree that you two had often frequented in childhood. He halted in his steps as he heard quiet sobs and sniffling, his knees growing weak at the sight of your body curled upon the trunk of the tree, your face in your hands as you tried to stifle your sobs. Aemond made cautious steps towards you, swallowing thickly as he had never succumbed to such guilt and pain before; it was unbearable to see you cry— more so for he knew that the reason for your tears was him. 

Aemond felt his breathing caught in his throat as you lifted your gaze, and your bloodshot eyes met his. “Why?” You managed to ask, your voice hoarse and filled with emotion. It was too much; Aemond wanted to fall to his knees and ask for your forgiveness; he could not take the way you stared up at him with such great sadness. “Why… why would you do such a thing? Why could you not l…” You could not even make yourself finish your words as a bubbling sob of angered sadness took over you. You tightly shut your eyes as Aemond fell on his knees before you, trying to take hold of your hand, but you over away from his touch. 

“I know of the resentment you have for my siblings— for me because we are bastards and because Lucerys had taken your eye. It was foolish for me to think that with our marriage, perhaps that enmity in you would lessen or at least be concealed enough that you would not seek out revenge so… so openly and as well as disparage me and my honor,” You say, your voice shaking as you try to take hold of your cries. “I did not mean to offend you; that was not aimed toward you,” Aemond said, and you shook your head. “They are my brothers, Aemond. Questioning their paternity means to question mine as well. Wounding them would be wounding me as well,” You countered and shook your head as Aemond moved to take hold of your hands. 

“I… I know it is difficult for you to be subjected to a room with my kin— especially my brothers, but could you not have let this one-night slide past peacefully? I am not seeking out your forgiveness; I was just hoping for something that resembled peace, just for one night,” You said lowly, voice trembling with your sobs and the cool night air that gusted around the gardens. Aemond sighed and rested his head against your clasped hands, still on his knees as you sat before him dejectedly. “I’m… I’m sorry, my love,” He whispered, and you froze, trying to decipher if you had heard him correctly. Never once had you heard him apologize nor use such an endearment. 

“I apologize. I was consumed by my anger, and I could not control my rage. I should have kept my composure,” He said and looked up at your face, tear-stained cheeks flushed with sadness, bloodshot eyes in question, and pink lips agape in mystification. “I’m sorry,” Aemond said once more and placed a kiss on your knuckles. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but at the same time, it rolled effortlessly as he knew it would be his saving grace not to lose you. You sat quietly, uncertain what to reply, though you had been enveloped in rage and sorrow, by Aemond’s actions, it somehow miraculously faded by his words and touch. 

“You called me ‘love’,” was all you could manage to say, the word still ringing in your ears even though you knew you should focus on the other matter. Aemond scrunched his brows as he gazed at your face, “I… I suppose I did,” He said, not even realizing the word slipped out his lips. He had been wanting to call you that endearment for weeks now, but he thought you would not take it well or that the softness and affection of it would lessen his stoic exterior. “Do you love me?” You could not help but ask, preparing yourself for the blow if it proves that your judgment was false. Aemond’s cold hands turned a degree colder as you asked the question. With each moment of silence, you feel your heart pit further, your mind scolding you for asking such a query. After another moment of prolonged silence, you sighed and were ready to stand, ready to mourn a different type of sadness. 

“Of course I do,” Aemond finally spoke, “I love you,” He added, determined for you to believe his words. You were stunned at his confession that words eluded you, and all you could do was pull him close and kiss his lips. “I do not care about your paternity. I don’t think I ever truly did… I only acted as such to appease my mother and her father. And I know I have played the part well, acting as if I harbor loathing for you ever since childhood, but I could never resent you, not truly.” Aemond sighed as your lips parted, and you smiled widely against his lips. Tears of melancholy turned into tears of glee. 

“You love me,” You mused as you cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing the raised skin of his scar. “I love you.” Aemond confirmed, and he hummed as you kissed his lips once more. The events at supper were long forgotten as you and he finally shared the affection you both harbored long ago but were just too afraid to say out loud. 

[k0juki]

Mafia!Max Verstappen headcanons

Summary: Max used to be with reader, but they broke up, she gets pregnant (with him) and didn't told him and they met a few years later. More mafia!Max here!

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Don't copy or translate my works!

Wc: 767

---

• It was just a useless relationship that he didn't need, nothing more

• at least that's what he says himself everyday, but it was far from the truth and he knew it.

• He loved you, that's for sure, but

• he did what he had to do, so you will be safe but

• how could you live your life and one day see your "mini-me" looking right back at you.

• He wasn't planning to go this far and what's worst, to have a child with his enemy's daughter.

• He never wanted that and the fact

• Max broke your heart all those years ago was just a bonus.

• After that you moved out of the Netherlands, back to London, but

• a few weeks later, you found out that you were pregnant. Well, shit.

• It was a little boy. Elijah or your little Eli.

• You wanted to tell Max, you really did, but your father didn't approved that,

• he didn't want him to know, and the fact that your father was head of the local British Mafia and his enemy was Dutch Mafia, wasn't good at all.

• little Eli was your secret, so whe Max saw you with little child

• it was safe to say that he almost had a stroke right on the sidewalk.

• Max never thought that he would see you again.

• Well, not at least with a little kid that looked like him.

• He was just supposed to take care of a few things around the London and then fly back to Netherlands

• but he saw you and your little blonde boy

• as you carried him in your arms and his own were around your neck with little red and blue car toy.

• You were crossing the road, when you saw Max on the other side.

• You stopped in the middle of crosswalk, mouth agape with nerves on the march.

• What was he doing here?

• You turned on your heels and basically ran back to your car.

• After that you tried your hardest to stay away from him, or anyone from that matter

• but he knew what he saw

• and that was you and his child, a boy,

• his heir that he had and didn't know about

• but he was determined to change that and he did when

• he found your penthouse that you owed, he killed every guard outside the building that was watching over you and your son, he couldn't care less about them and

• he will deal with your father later, now

•Max he didn't want to scare you like before, so he

• knocked on door and obviously

• he didn't expect a little boy with car toy he saw earlier and with paci in his mouth

• will open for him, and then he heard your call for Eli, asking him who came here, thinking it was your mother because she was your regular guest.

• You came to the door and saw Max, how he just stood here, looking

• as you scoped little Eli in your arms and asked him what he was doing here, but all he could do was to

• ask if it's his son, you looked at him

• and said yes, it was three and half years ago that you saw and talked to each other and you

• still missed him, but you couldn't forget how he broke up with you.

• Saying it was for your own good.

• he dropped to his knees

• "I'm so sorry" he apologized and promised that he would do anything to make it up to you and his son.

• To spend all his free time with you both, to have you both in his life

• but you weren't convinced, more like scared

• what if something happens, what if someone hurts your baby?

• You wouldn't survive that.

• He kissed your and Elijah head and promising to take care of both of you, that he will move the entire world just for you

• and you accepted.

• You didn't want to move right back to Netherland, so he stayed most of his time in your penthouse with you and Eli

• slowly got used to him, after you explained that Max is his father, he didn't want him to leave, ever.

• It took a lot of time to open back to him, but he always made sure that you have everything you and Eli needed.

• His family.

---

I want more of Mafia!Max so send me some requests of him. 🫶 more posts here!

[lustfulslxt]

1949 ⭑ Matt Sturniolo

Prologue

summary : you move back home with your brother and click with his friends, though the tension is high with matt and it turns into something more

warnings : brothers best friend trope, slow burn, tension, sneaky relationship, swearing, eventual smut, slight traumatic past relationship with reader’s mother, and probably some other stuff

a/n : hiii! so, this is my first actual series.. idk how long it will be, it really just depends on how you guys like it. i appreciate feedback always xx

1.1k words

—

The world around you seems to fade away, a dull buzzing echoing in your ears. Your eyes burn with seemingly invisible tears as you stare off into the distance, a somber expression overtaking your features. You fail to process the chatter and movement occurring around you, too preoccupied by the overwhelming change you’re currently forced to endure.

You swallow the lump in your throat and close your eyes, trying to gather yourself and your spiraling thoughts. You have never been good with change, and only once before have you been put in an all too similar predicament.

Taking a deep breath, you turn your head to gaze out of the window. White, fluffy clouds hang just beneath you, showcasing a dark city sparkling with various lights. Taking in the new area, you’re immediately brought back to how this all started.

Life has been anything but fulfilling. Ever since you were younger, you had been craving the love you get with family. However, your mother had deprived you of it.

You used to be happy, back when you were just a little girl. Your parents, you, and your brother, Nate, all lived together as one big happy family. At least once a week, the four of you would go out and do something fun with each other — whether it be the zoo, an amusement park, shopping, a picnic — it was always something to ensure you spent time together and encourage a healthy development.

You didn’t have a worry in the world, until it all came crashing down. Next thing you knew, you were on a flight to Nevada.

You were ripped from your dad and brother at such a young age, for reasons still unknown to this day. A big part of you despised your mother for taking you from your family, especially when she was incapable of giving you the love you needed as a child.

You cried and begged her to tell you what was going on, but she was adamant about you staying in a child’s place, and that this was better for the two of you. Any time you kept up with the questions and concerns, it was as if she turned into a whole other person. She’d become very aggressive, and so, to avoid her wrath, you just stopped altogether.

You were forced to start a new school, make new friends, and completely forget about your family back in Boston. Of course, that was easier said than done.

You’d cry yourself to sleep every single night, wanting nothing more than to get back on the plane and go home, even if it meant going without your mother.

She changed. She became something you didn’t recognize. The soft, caring, and loving mom you once had was overtaken by a cold, mean, and almost lifeless exterior. The relationship between both of you dwindled into nothing but resentment and bitterness.

Growing up without your father was hard. He was always so good to you, being everything you ever needed as a dad. He was a good man to your family, neighbors, and anyone he ever came across. You’re unsure of what happened between him and your mom, but you couldn’t see him as anything other than what he’s been.

Losing Nate was by far the hardest. He was your best friend, your other half. The two of you were as thick as thieves, always at each other’s hips. You shared everything with each other, there wasn’t a single secret between you. You turned to him for everything, and he was always so supportive and understanding, even at your young age. You were never as happy and full of life as you were when you were with him. Being without him was unbearable. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if there was an invisible lifeline keeping you connected, and being ripped away to Nevada severed it.

You often wondered if he still thinks about you. Was it as hard for him as it was for you? Did he move on with ease? Did he find new friends to replace you? Does he have a new sibling?

You’ve wanted so bad to reach out to them, to tell them you miss them and you’re sorry, but your mother always made it impossible. She did any and everything she could to prevent you from contacting them.

However, with the sudden turn of events, you’re now all alone on a plane, flying back to a place that holds sentimental memories, and you’re unsure of what it’s going to bring you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, US Air welcomes you to Boston, Massachusetts. The local time is 6:47 PM—” Is spoken over the intercom, causing a dreaded feeling to brew in your stomach.

You’re beyond nervous, and your mind is racing with overwhelming thoughts. Do they hate you? Do they blame you for mom leaving? Do they even want you to come back? Should you have stayed in Nevada on your own? Do they even know why you’re coming back?

You seem to be moving on autopilot, because the next thing you know, you’re at bag pick up to receive your luggage, and the atmosphere is filled with a loud environment. Your heart is thumping quickly in your chest, your body ridded with anxiety. You’re unsure of what to even do with yourself at this point.

“Y/N?”

You freeze in place, eyes wide as goosebumps line your skin. You can practically feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The uneasy feeling in your stomach worsens, and you’re actually terrified to turn around.

But you do.

“It’s you.” The same voice repeats.

You’re met with two people, and though it’s been quite some time, you recognize them instantly. Your breath catches in your throat, and tears well up in your eyes as you take them in.

“Oh my god.” Your dad cries as Nate rushes to you.

Your body is hit with a strong force as Nate yanks you into a hug. You suddenly snap out of it and reciprocate the hug, squeezing for dear life. Your dad is instantly joining, the three of you rocking back and forth as you cry.

It doesn’t feel real. This moment is what you’ve dreamed of almost every night since you’ve been gone. You’ve longed for this. Your heart has been so heavy for years on end, and this is exactly what you needed for that weight to lift.

“Oh my god, it’s really you.” Nate whispers, cradling you into his arms. “You’re really here.”

“It’s me.” You choke out through tears, “I’m here.”

—

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @matt444nixi @sturniololol @evieolo @dlyansworld @luv2matt @nmegamett20 @angelic-sturniolos111

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XVI

<- Previous Chapter I

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well. This chapter might be difficult to answer, so don't hesitate to ask question, unless they spoil the story, I'll answer them. Hope you enjoy what is coming next.

The next morning,you were walking with Alastor into the woods you have grown to know like the back of your hand.You had to insist for Alastor to bring you with him. He wanted you to stay with Alice but you were having none of it. You didn’t really know what just happened at Alice’s, you were feeling exhausted and a bit scared.

“ So, you couldn’t hear me or Alice, and then you heard footsteps and the noise of a shovel digging into the ground?” asked Alastor, keeping his rifle in his left hand, the other keeping yours. 

“ Yes… Do you think I’m crazy? Maybe I fainted for a moment..?” you turned your eyes toward Alastor, wishing to be reassured. You almost thought you would see him looking at you with pity but he just squeezed your hand tighter, never stopping smiling.

“ No, dear. We can’t be both crazy, this town wouldn’t survive it. No, no, I’ll look into it, okay?” he smiled at you with a soft gaze. He kissed the back of your hand. “ Don’t think you can run away by pretending to be crazy, dearest.”

You smiled at him before stopping abruptly. There were footsteps on the ground, and from how deep into the mud there were, you knew the person was probably running.  You let go of Alastor’s hand, the both of you investigating around. You were looking at the floor and crouched, frowning. What was it…? They were tiny … was it..?

“ Dog’s paws..?” you  tilted your head. It clearly looked like a dog's paws. You called out to Alastor whose smile turned into a grimace.

“ They really brought the mutts out.” he sighed before looking around. 

“ You don’t think it could be an unlucky hunter, right?”

“ Unfortunately, no. This part of the forest belongs to my family, which means, if they took that path down the forest, they came from my house, which is illegal. So it can’t be a hunter, but policemen use dogs  don’t they?…”

“Yes, but they can’t just enter someone's property like that. My father would never.” 

Alastor’s smile widened as he tapped his chin with his finger. He seemed to enjoy himself.

“ Let’s follow the trail, we’ll make a conclusion when we see where it ends.” 

You walked, trying to ignore your growing headache.  You sighed in relief when you felt Alastor’s hand on your waist. You both stopped when you reached the place where you’ve killed for the first time.  You looked at Alastor as he gently tugged you toward a big tree and just as you expected, it seemed like someone had tried to dig up a hole.

“ Mhn… They didn’t dig up deep enough.” said Alastor with a mocking tone. He walked around the hole before pointing his gun toward a noise. You smiled when you saw a deer, staring at Alastor then near his feet. You began to walk toward him but Alastor stopped you with his hand. “ Don’t come any closer, there is a bear trap.”

You choked on your own saliva when you saw a bear trap, hidden by leaves, centimeters away from Alastor’s right foot. If he had kept walking, he would have been stuck inside it. You stared at the deer, dumbfounded. Did the deer.. warned Alastor? Were you losing your mind?

The deer stared at Alastor before leaving in the forest.

“ Well… That was odd. But more importantly, a bear trap? Seems like someone really wants to catch us.” he laughed as he crouched in front of the trap. “ Did they not dig deep enough on purpose so we would lower our guard and get caught by the bear trap..?”

“ Do you think they are still here?” you looked around.

“ No, darling. The forest is noisy and I don’t feel eyes upon us. We’re clean, for now. But what is amazing is that.. You saw it coming.  You knew that someone was trying to dig up my father.”

Alastor walked toward you.

“ Darling, is there anything strange that happened to you during this week?”  You blinked at him. The strangest thing that had happened this week was seeing your best friend making a contract with your future husband to kill someone she was supposed to marry. “ No apparitions?”

“ Alastor, what in the sweet hell are you talking about?”

“ Well, I’m trying the soul bounding spell. It can take several months to be able to bound a soul to another one, and I was worried that maybe I did something wrong which could have.. made you have that vision.”

You smiled at him, before kissing his lips. You were curious about his voodoo’s spells, but it was an unknown world for you, you hoped one day Alastor would teach you.

“ No Alastor, I didn’t see anything worth mentioning. What should I be worried about?”

“ Nothing serious, if there is something anormal, you would feel it.” he touched your forehead with his own, staring into your eyes. “ So… Do you have an idea how to kill Alice’s future husband ?”

You laughed as you felt Alastar’s arms wrapped around you. You kissed him several times, savoring the moments.

“ Mhn.. What about this? This weekend, we will go to Alice’s cottage and spend the days together, just the two of us thinking about murder?” you teased him, sliding your hands on his torso as you bite your lips. “ You could show me some techniques…”

“ I could show you how to tie someone so they can’t escape.” he smirked as he loomed over you. “ But it is a great idea, darling.” he kissed you twice before walking toward the bear trap. “ Also, I’m taking this to your father.” you tilted your head. “ Of course, dear. Someone trespassed into my domain and even put on a weapon that almost wounded me! If this is a policeman who has done this, your father would know. “

“ But.. They would want to understand why it was near a hole, they are going to investigate the forest.”

“ I’ve never said I found it there, dear.” he smirked at you and you couldn’t help but laugh.” The only person who knows where we found the bear trap are you, my darling , myself and the one we want to catch. I’m just going to provoqued them a little bit.

You laughed as you went back home. Alastor had to go to work and you didn’t want to stay all alone at home. You took a bottle of wine and some pastries and went out. Maybe talking with Alice about everything that happens could be great. You were sure she had a ton of questions to ask you.

You stopped walking when you were in front of the park, you couldn’t help but look for your new friend. Well, he wasn’t a friend but maybe a confidant ? You smiled when you entered the park and saw the old man sitting on his usual bench. You sat next to him.

“ Hello sir.”

“ Hello little lady.” he smiled warmly at you.

You began to talk about your days, the man still listening to you quietly. You looked at him, trying to see if he had any signs of religion on him but you couldn’t find any.

“ Sir, you believe in… spirits?”

“ Yes, I do.”

“ I … I have some questions” you looked around, making sure nobody was listening, but no one was taking notice of you" “ I think I fainted and I might… have seen a scene that was happening somewhere else?”

“ Oh, it’s interesting. How did you feel?”

“ Tired. I had a headache all night until… recently.”

“ Did you talk about it with your husband ?” he asked, looking at the people walking in front of you.

“ Well, yes ! He was worried but it must be my imagination.” you laughed. You were sure about what happened.

“ Does that make it any less real?” he tilted his head, his gentle expression still there, with eyes so gentle and wise you wondered what kind of life he lived.

“ Well..” you groaned as you held your head, your headache was coming back full force. You closed your eyes, trying to contain the pain. Gosh, it was so painful.

“ Waking up might be painful this time, little lady, I apologize.”

You tried to open your mouth but you felt like something was tearing you apart from your own body. You could feel the tears from pain whelming up in your eyes. What was happening ?

“ Hey! Look at me !”

You opened your eyes, gasping for air and looked at the man who was shaking you by your shoulders. Did he think you were sleeping? God, your head was hurting so bad and now you could feel something sliding down your nose… you tried to focus your vision to see the man’s face, his voice was familiar.

“ John…?”

And that’s all you remember before your vision turned black.

You could hear people talking around you. They were so noisy… You couldn’t open your eyes or move your body. You felt so tired, even more than usual.

“ She was talking all alone while sleeping, sitting on a bench! I’m not lying, and then when I woke her up she had a nosebleed and her eyes seemed red– ”

“ Aah… Thank you, John. I’m going to stay with my daughter, we’ll meet after this okay. Thank you for contacting me.”

Why would your father meet with John? Even if you didn't tell him why you stopped being friends with him, you didn’t think John would still reach out to your father. You forced your eyes to open and you found yourself staring at a white ceiling. wait.. Were you in a hospital? You sat up slowly as your father ran at your side.

“ Slow and steady, sweetheart.” He put his hand on your back, helping you stay steady on the hospital’s bed. “ Alastor is on his way.”  you felt your body relax at the new. You looked at your father who was already giving you food, the one you made for Alice.

“ What happened ?”

“ You were talking to yourself like a madwoman. I had to shake you forcefully for you to wake up.” you looked at John. He was staring at you, seeming worried but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be near him. “ Hah, being almost married seems to do wonders for you.”

“ Get out.

“ Is there something I should know about..?” asked your father, looking at the both of you.

“ Nothing worth mentioning.” you spat, glaring at John who seemed hurt by your reaction. Did he really think you were going to thank him because he.. did he even help you ? What happened to Legba? You groaned, your head was killing you.

“ Darling, I’m here.” Alastor walked past John, going straight to you, taking your hands between yours. You relaxed immediately, going into his arms. What was happening to you? 

“ You should take better care of your future wife. She is going insane, talking to herself on a bench.”

You felt Alastor’s body tense. His smile was still, as usual, as he turned his head toward John. It seemed like he didn’t even notice John when he entered your hospital’s room. You wanted to punch John in the face, who did he think he was? 

“ From what I have seen, my fiancée is feeling bad when you are around, should I get rid of you?” he smiled with a beaming expression making your father chuckle.

“ The day I see Alastor being violent, is the day I stop working!” he laughed before standing up. “ But John, boy, let’s talk outside.” your father said with a cold expression. You smirked, your father hated when you were being disrespected. You watched as the two men left your room before feeling Alastor’s hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“ Darling, what happened ? Talking alone?”

You shook your head slowly, caressing his cheeks.

“ No, I was with a new acquaintance of mine. I think you should meet, he is very interesting, he is very old though…But then my head started hurting so bad I had to close my eyes and hold my face to calm myself. He must have see me when I was trying to smooth the pain.”

“ Yes, darling, I’ll meet everyone you want.” he sighed while stroking your hair. “ What is the name of the gentleman who stole my darling’s attention?” he teased you as you stuck your tongue at him.

“ Legba.”

You felt Alastor's body freezed, the temperature dropping. You blinked at him, looking at his frozen smile as he stared at you without showing anything.

“ Do you know him..?” you asked. Maybe they have already met but couldn’t get along? 

“ I… I know his name, yes. What do you talk about with him?” he sat next to you, his expression back to usual.

“ I’m the one mostly talking. And we share food! Now that I think about it, I didn’t have the time to give him something to eat today…” you gasped as Alastor helped you stand up. He smiled at you.

“ Let’s see if he is still where you left him! I really want to meet him."He kissed your cheeks before taking your things. You nodded, you didn’t want to stay here any longer. You both left your room, never meeting your father or John. You brought Alastor to the park, hoping to see the old man. You hoped John hadn't been too rude to Legba.

You smiled, feeling relieved as you saw him sitting in his usual spot. 

“ It’s him, do you see him, Alastor?” you walked toward the old man who lifted his head up once you were close. “ Well, hello once again.”

You sat next to him, Alastor sitting next to you silently. How weird, most of the time he would try to make himself see. 

“ You are back early, are you alright now?”

“ I’m doing great, thank you. I hope the man that bothered us wasn’t too rude to you.” you relaxed when you saw him shake his head. “ I came back because I realized I didn’t give you anything to eat and I wanted you to meet my future husband, Alastor!” 

You saw the man’s smile widened as he looked at Alastor.

“ Aah, the famous Alastor… “ you smiled before giving the man a pastry. You didn’t know why you felt like you had to give him something in return for his presence…” Seems like you won’t be left in the dark anymore.”

“ What do you mean?”

“ You didn't want me to meet Alastor in particular, it’s Alastor who wanted to meet me, right?” you nodded, but was the difference so important? “ You shouldn’t stay out too long, night is coming soon, I will have to go back.”

You looked at the darkening sky. How long were you out? How long did you stay in the hospital? You nodded at the old man, feeling better. You stood up, stretching your body.

“ See you soon, then.”

“ See you again, little lady.” said Leba as he stood up and walked away with his cane.

 You turned your head toward Alastor, who was staring at you, his smile twitching, his feet tapping the floor nervously.

“ Why didn’t you speak to him? Didn’t you want to meet him?” you crossed your arms on your chest, raising an eyebrows.

“ I’m.. going to explain everything as soon as we get home.” he took your hands and made you walk quickly toward his home. When you entered Marie’s home, it was already dark. You didn’t have the time to say hi to his mother, Alastor was dragging you into his bedroom. He was being so weird.

“ Alright darling. When did you meet this man?”

“ What are you playing at?” you asked, sitting on his bed.

“ Please, answer me.”

“ It hasn't even been a week yet.”

“ What does he look like?”

“ You saw him! He was sitting next to me!” you threw your arms in the air, feeling agitated. Why Alastor seemed to be excited and worried.

“ No, darling, you were sitting alone.”

…

“ Alastor,” you laughed nervously. “ you saw me.. I was talking with him..”

He approached you and kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“ You sat on the bench and then closed your eyes. It seemed like you were asleep to me but you were whispering some sentences, I couldn’t hear everything unfortunately.”

You paled. What was going on? What was he talking about? Were you crazy? Would you be thrown in an asylum and die there?

“ Darling, keep your eyes on me. It’s… It’s my fault I think.” he bit his lips while staring at you, you weren’t aware you were clawing at his hands, shaking. “ I told you I was practicing for our bounding soul spell, right?” he waited for you to nob before continuing. “ To be able to perform spells, you need one spirit in particular. His name is Papa Legba, but he never showed himself to me.”

“ Alastor… What are you trying to tell me..?” your voice was shaking, you didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“ Papa Legba is the guardian of the crossroads, he embodies the communication and access to the spirit world. Darling, it’s… it’s very amazing for such a spirit to be near you but also dangerous. You aren’t the type to just give food to someone you don’t know, yet you did it, you know why?”

“ I don’t know.. I just felt like it, as a thank you for his presence.”

“ That’s what we call an offering. But you need strong sacrifices for those spirits to stay and give you what you asked. I don’t think you asked him anything, did you..?”

“ I ask for his advice..” you whispered, trying to understand everything Alastor was saying. You wanted to know more about voodoo? Well, you didn’t expect to have that knowledge so fast in this situation.

“ I see.. From what I saw, when you talk with him, you go into a trance. When John woke you up by force, it broke your connections and I know for a fact that it can be very painful. Furthermore, you didn’t give him any sacrifices and nature always takes back what you didn’t give.”

“ So… Because I didn’t give him something in return for his presence, they took back..?”

“ Your energy.” he nodded, still caressing your hands who had stopped shaking.  “ But I don’t understand why he came to you and not me when I’m asking for him… I did find other ways with another spirit but still..”

“ When are you summoning him?”

“ When I come home, mostly when my mother is asleep.” he sighed, looking away, seeming in his thoughts. You tilted slightly your head, looking at Alastor.

“ I think…Maybe he doesn’t like being summoned at night? I.. He was the one who left today when he saw the sky getting darker, I would feel the need to go home when night time was coming and I was talking with him..”

“ Mhn.. Maybe we’ll try to summon him tomorrow with a good sacrifice. I’m working with another spirit right now but working with Papa Legba could be useful.”

“ Who are you working with?” you tilted your head, curiously, if Papa Legba was the spirit to make spells, who else could do it?

“ Some people say it’s his other side. The one who reigns on the night.” he sat next to you with a smirk. “ Names are important dear, we don’t call spirits just like this.'' He waited for you to nod before standing up. “Until I tell you otherwise, don’t speak, okay? Well, please, meet..” he stared at you, almost waiting for you to back down.

 You stood up, staring at him dead in the eyes. Universe could bring men, women, spirits, gods, you would follow Alastor in Hell. He smiled when he saw your expression.

 “Kalfu.”

You felt shivers as the room turned cold. You look around and put your hand on your mouth to muffle a scream that would have come out. Behind Alastor, his shadow was moving like it was its own person. You looked at Alastor and your eyes widened as you saw his eyes being red. He was staring at you, observing your reaction.

Alastor’s shadows moved on the walls curiously, looking at items, then he went toward you and you flinched when you felt its touch on your legs. It was.. a strange feeling.  It didn’t seem… bad. You approached your head toward its head and smiled softly as the shadows let itself be touched.

“ Of course, as I told you, there is a price.” you nodded as you looked at him. “ For this power, I need to kill Alice’s blackmailer. Before you stress out, no, the spirit doesn’t force me to do it. We just.. Think the same.” he smirked as he crossed his arms on his torso, its shadow nodding at Alastor’s side with a hideous big grin.

You nodded once more, observing him. His eyes were red but beautiful. You walked slowly toward him, raising your hand toward his cheek before kissing him. You felt Alastor’s body relax as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his torso. 

You leaned back to watch his eyes that were slowly but surely taking their natural color back. The room wasn’t as dark as a moment ago.

“ You can talk my dear.”

“ I need to sleep.. “ you closed your eyes, feeling exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hitted the pillows, Alastor didn’t even try to stop you from changing into your night clothes.

You woke up the next day, with Alastor arms wrapped around you. You smiled softly as you felt his breath on your neck, his torso against your back.  You sat up, slowly, trying not to wake up Alastor.

You walked toward the mirror, looking at yourself.

What the fuck happened yesterday?

You were having a powerful spirit by your side, you didn’t know why, he would eat your energy if you didn’t give him anything to.. eat? You sighed, trying to clear your thoughts. But, right now you needed to have answers…

“ Papa Legba.” you whispered.

“ Yes, little girl?”

You almost punched the mirror as you saw your reflection bending and twisting into unusual angles before taking the form of the old man you used to know.

“ Seems like you are no longer in the dark.”

“ I.. I still feel lost.”

“ No wonder you asked for me, I’m used to taking care of lost souls.”

“ Why … Why did you appear by my side when I never once tried to summon you? I didn’t even know you existed.”

“ Well, this is Alastor’s fault. When he tried to summon me the first time, he had a tissue tainted with your blood. I think he wanted to make a soul bounding spell, but he is still experimenting. He should ask advice from his mother.”

“ You.. You worked with Marie?”

“ Alastor’s mother asked spirits' help to protect Alastor from danger. She mostly worked with Gran Bwa. But you’ve seen him already.” you shook your head. “ The deer that warned Alastor about the bear trap.” your eyes were wide open. “ And many other times, his mother did a lot to protect him. Do you really think he would have made it to your home with you that time you almost drowned? I was the one who showed him the way to the cottage, if not, you both would have been dead because of the cold.”

Marie was working with spirits… Well, you weren’t that surprised, if Alastor was working with them, it meant that he had it in his blood but… But what were you doing here?

“ So, because Alastor has my blood on a tissue, you went… to meet me?”

“ It’s more complicated than that.”

You nodded without being sure of understanding anything that was happening.

“ Are… Are you a good spirit?” you looked at him as he laughed, taping his cane against the mirror.

“ Well, I try to be. I can help you work with good spirits, those who want to do good in the world.” he nodded. You bit your lips and then opened your mouth.

“ Alastor is working with a spirit… Is he a bad one?”

“ Mhn… Alastor is working with him, hn? Kalfu controls the evil forces of the spirit world. He allows the crossing of bad luck, deliberate destruction, misfortune, injustice.  I control the positive spirits of the day; Kalfu controls the malevolent spirits of the night.”

“ Is he in danger?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper. 

“ No, Alastor and Kalfu will enjoy each other's company I think, keeping themselves on their toes.”

“ And I? Where do I stand here?”

“ Well, because or thanks to Alastor, your blood and your soul is being changed by him. Which, for now, makes you capable of talking to me. Even working with me, you accepted that vision almost perfectly.” 

So it was Papa Legba’s power that time? You tilted your head, making the old man follow your movement in the mirror.

“ Do you think I could… work with you to protect Alastor..? From what I understand, bad spirits aren’t there to protect but kill or harm. If Alastor is bound with them, can I help him by … I still don’t know how it works but, can I help him in any way?”

“ Mhn, little lady. You are an odd one. Your blood wasn’t made to work with Voodoo, but you have potential. You are connected to the energy on earth, and sensitive to the spirit world, if not you wouldn’t have been able to talk to me all that time. It would be a pleasure to work with you, but do you understand what it means?” you shook your head, feeling your body tense itself. “ That means Kalfu will want to work with you. Just like I would have wanted to work with Alastor. If you were to work with my.. twin, I would stop our deal.”

You nodded before pausing.

“ Won’t they be angry that I work with you? Won’t they try to separate us?”

“ Oh no, little lady. Not a chance, because for us, like for them, your duo is unusual. We wouldn’t want to destroy that, au contraire.” You nodded, feeling better but also you could sense Papa Legba presence having more pressure on you.

“ What.. What should I bring you, as a sacrifice ?”

“ Rooster.”  he smiled warmly at you. “ But for this time, I shall accept something sweet.”

“ Okay… One last thing, what is it going to be like working with you?”

“ I can call another spirit's power to help you, but depending on the power, the offering will get bigger and bigger. But for now, we’ll work slowly together, if that’s what you want.” he smiled when you nodded, sure of yourself. “ Now, I think most of the power I’m going to use with you will be through your eyes. But we’ll talk about it later, I’m getting really hungry.” You went downstairs without making a noise, you felt like you were half asleep. You took a piece of Marie’s cake before walking back toward Alastor’s bedroom. 

“ Oh, I recognize Marie’s cooking.” he laughed when you put the plate on a table, in front of the mirror. “ You should talk with Marie about all of this, the both of you.” Papa Legba said before disappearing from the mirror. You turned around and saw Alastor behind you, his eyes red, staring at the mirror.

“ Well, well, well.. Do my eyes deceive me ?”

“ What are you talking about?”

He smiled at you before hugging you from behind, nuzzling his head against your neck, staring at the mirror.

“ Red is really our color, right?”

You looked back at the mirror and two red eyes were staring back at you. 

Your eyes were red.

Just like Alastor.

As both of your eyes started to turn at their usual color you couldn’t help but sigh, you needed to have a discussion with Marie.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Grid x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing, pregnancy, shit-talking, grid baby

part 1 I part 2 I part 3

It had been 5 months since my last encounter with Logan. Well, the last time I actually talked to him, if you would consider the argument we had as “talking”.

After I stormed out the house with my suitcase I made my way to my Best Friend Lily’s house and told her everything. Since Lily lives with Alex, he obviously heard everything that happened and absolutely reamed Logan a new asshole.

Lily and Alex were nice enough to let me stay at their place until I was able to get on my own feet again. Lily was adamant on making me stay until after the baby was at least 6 months old, so that I could comfortably move everything out without dealing with either a pregnancy bump or a newborn that would need constant attention.

-

Today was the Miami Grand Prix and I attended to cheer on my Grid family and the second Logan’s eyes fell on me, he sprinted over, his hand immediately touching my stomach

“oh my baby, how are you my love? how’s she doing for you?” Logan said coming in to try and place a soft kiss to my lips, only for me to step back “cmon babe. i’ve done everything to win you back, let me just be with you. i need to be in my daughters life” Logan said with pleading eyes.

“and you will be, just not with me in yours,” i say, removing his hands from my bump “and don’t touch my stomach without my permission, especially when it’s hot outside.”

Logan looked shocked at my comment but tried to shrug it off putting his hands right back on my stomach “my pretty girl, tell your mommy to forgive daddy, daddy didn’t mean what he said”

“Hey! She fucking said to stop touching her.” a voice yells, Logan turn to see who interrupted his time with both his love and his baby

“Listen Lando, this doesn’t concern you.” Logan scoffed attempting to put his hands right back on my stomach but Lando quickly stepped in front of me.

“It actually does concern me, seeing as you’re touching my girlfriend AFTER she told you to stop.” Lando’s voice stern, absolutely shocking Logan

“your girlfriend?” Logan looked sad, heartbroken and utterly confused

“yes, MY girlfriend,” Lando started “The woman you let slip away, the woman who might be carrying your baby but will probably see me as her dad, the woman you mistreated, the woman of my dreams and my beautiful, strong, confident girlfriend”

My hormones were absolutely not on my side because the more Lando went on, the more I started crying.

I’ve never felt this type of love with Logan, I mean yeah in the beginning of the relationship it was pure bliss, but after the first 2 months it was just like we were roommates that fucked and occasionally told the other we loved them whenever we were in private.

In public however, we seemed like the happiest ever, like there was nothing wrong in our world. That we were obsessed with each other, like the world would stop revolving if we were conjoined at the hip.

I can admit, for 2 weeks after my breakup with Logan and blurting out that I was once again with child, I couldn’t stop thinking about how cruel it would be to my daughter to not be with her father and for a second I almost went running back to Logan and begged him to forgive me for my outburst and to take me back. When I went to confide in Lando and ask him if I should go back, he told me that was the dumbest thing I could’ve done because if it is beneficial for my daughter it would be the worst years of my life knowing her dad thinks so lowly of me.

Lando was really my rock during my whole breakup and pregnancy, he encouraged me to move out of Lily and Alex’s house and into his in case something happened in the middle of the night, if I needed something and just because he overall thought I shouldn’t have to live alone while I was pregnant.

Lily thought it was weird that I moved into Lando’s place just 2 weeks after moving in with her but she made me promise to go over to hers at least once a day so she could talk to her niece.

I was quickly pulled out of my daze when I felt a small tug on my arm. It was Lando urging me into the McLaren garage after Logan started throwing a hissy fit.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Lando said with a light chuckle to ease the mood, placing his hand on the small of my back before quickly yanking it away. “Sorry, I know you just yelled at Logan for touching you without permission, and I just did the same thing. Can I touch you?” Lando asks, genuinely upset that he did the same thing I reprimanded Logan for, the only difference? I craved Lando’s touch, whereas Logan’s sent a nasty shiver down my spine.

Both my hands taking both of Lando’s. One hand I guide to the small of my back and the other I guide to my bump and I watch as Lando’s eyes widen.

This is the first time I’ve let someone other than Lily touch my belly and Lando was determined to take in this moment. The look of excitement evident on his face as he feels her kick.

“OH MY GOSH, DID YOU FEEL THAT? I mean- obviously you felt that, she’s inside of you but SHE KICKED Y/N/N, SHE KICKED!” Lando screamed in excitement, almost like a kid in a candy shop.

The look of adoration and love on Lando’s face made my heart almost burst. I drowned out all the excited squeals from Lando as I pulled him in for a kiss, smiling into it.

“You’re so cute when you’re excited,” I start saying before seeing the engineers ushering Lando to his car "Okay lover boy, give me a kiss and go to your car" I said pulling him right back into a quick kiss.

"Can I give baby a kiss too?" Lando asks with pleading eyes

"LANDO, GET A MOVE ON MATE! RACE STARTS IN 5" Oscar yells from the inside of his car before putting his helmet on

I chuckled before giving Lando a nod watching him as he quickly leans down and presses a firm kiss on the top of my belly before dedicating the race to my unborn daughter.

Dedicating a race to someone is a big task, if you end with a bad position or DNF it makes everything awkward but I have faith that Lando will end up on the podium.

-

We’re now down to the last 10 laps and the gap from Lando in first and Max in second just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The anxiety I’m feeling right now is worse than when I was waiting for my pregnancy test results.

The amount of laps only decreased and with every lap down, the gap grew. Once we were down to the last lap and the gap from Lando to Max was at a whopping 7.7 seconds everyone knew that Lando had secured his first win, he just needed to not fuck up and crash.

Once the checkered flag came into view, tears welled up in my eyes. Not only had Lando secured his first Formula 1 win but he had prior dedicated this race to my babygirl.

As the team ran to the pit lane, Zak came to view and offered me his arm which I gladly took as we made our way to where Lando would soon be.

"Lando's lucky to have you by his side, I know he dedicated his race to the little one," Zak starts. I can tell Zak wants to add more but he doesn't want to overstep a boundary, but with a nod of approval from me, he continues. "How do you feel about this whole Lando-Logan situation?"

"What do you mean?" I cock an eyebrow at him

"I mean with Logan being your daughters biological father but Lando being more of a full-time dad than Logan'll be?" a confused look falls over my features as I think over Zak's question. "I mean no disrespect Y/N, just curious."

"No, no I mean. We wouldn't be in this situation if Logan hadn't acted the way he did, so if he doesn't see his daughter as often as he wants that's his problem." I said nonchalantly shrugging. "But no more Logan talk. Lando actually finished the race and finished first, I think we should all celebrate." I say as I unlock my arm from Zak's as I watch Lando get put down from the crowd of McLaren engineers as he makes his way to me, wrapping an arm around me pulling me into a big sweaty hug.

"Oh my gosh Lando, I love you but you smell incredibly sweaty and it's gonna make me throw up." I say half joking as I gag, not even noticing the slip up. Not at least until I see Lando smile impossibly harder, " what?"

"You said you love me" I didn't even have a chance to process that I did in fact say that I loved him because Lando pulled me into a hot and steamy kiss, one that for sure would also make the news in a few minutes.

"I mean I didn't think that I'd be able to love, especially not after Logan. You changed that for me, but my god, please get on the podium and shower. I'm going to throw up." I say with love, adoration, proudness and sickness in my voice all at once.

"I love you so much more. You and baby" Lando says before pressing another quick kiss to my lips before being dragged to the cool down room

-

After the podium celebration and a shower Lando makes his way to me, pressing a tender kiss to my lips before asking me "All of the grid some team principals are going to this one bar, it's karaoke night. I really want to go but if you're not feeling up to it, we can just stay in at the hotel."

"Baby, you just scored your first win. Of course we can go." I say as I put my hand on his cheek before moving it to his hair, running my finger though it.

-

When we got to the bar we automatically spot the rest of the grid. I mean how could we not, they took up half the bar space?

"Baby, you can go grab a seat, I'm gonna grab us drinks, and before you say anything. Yes, I'm getting you a f/d." Lando said pressing a kiss to my temple.

"You know me so well. I'm gonna go say hi to everyone." I said as I squeezed Lando's hand before making my way to the group of drivers, WAGS, and team principals.

The second I was spotted by the WAGS they all made a beeline towards me peppering me with questions and asking if they could touch my tummy, all of which I gave permission to. I look at the rest of the table, waving at all of them and they all wave back knowing it might be a minute before they get a proper 'hello' because of all the attention my daughter is getting. I had made brief eye contact with Logan offering a tight-lipped smile before feeling a tap on my shoulder.

"Here you go, pretty girl" Lando says as he offers me my f/d which I gladly accept before looking back at Logan, only to find that his spot is empty. I don't give it much thought before I indulge myself in a conversation with the rest of the WAGS as Lando goes and has individual conversations about his win.

"Ladies and gentleman can I have your attention?" some lady says into the mic "the karaoke machine is now on and we already have our first request!" the bar erupts in claps and whoops as we all wonder who the first singer would be

"Singing 'Too Good to Say Goodbye' by Bruno Mars, put your hands together for Logan Sargeant"

My face fell as the song starts

"I've made mistakes, I could have treated you better. I let you get away. There goes my happily ever after." Logan starts, staring into my soul

"Tell me why, why can't we try and start again? This can't be how our story ends. You're more than my girl, you're my best friend. Tell me you remember when, ooh, I was your man and you were my girl It was you and me against the world" tears start welling in my eyes as he continues singing.

A firm hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to see that its Zak

"Don't you love Bruno Mars, why aren't you singing?" I stare at him, the tears on my waterline threatening to fall. I don't answer him though, I just turn my body back to the man on the stage.

"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye." The whole grid is staring at Logan in shock. They all know what he did and he has the nerve to sing this song to me on stage?

"Yeah, I'm still in love with you darlin'. I know you feel the same Oh, what's the point of both of us being broken hearted? I pray it's never too late" Me? Still in love with you? In your dreams Sargeant

"Girl won't you listen? It's you that I'm missin' . Take my hand, I wanna go, I wanna go. If we're gonna fight this fight for better days. I know we're gonna make it. This is the chance, let's take it." From another person's perspective, this would seem like a nice grand gesture to win back the woman of his dreams. I mean who wouldn't want their man to sing a song about wanting a second chance after he royally screwed up?

"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye goodbye Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye" The songs ends and half the bar erupts on claps and whistles as Logan stares in my eyes before talking into the mic.

"Y/N, baby, I know I screwed up. I'm trying to make this work. For you and our babygirl, just please give me a chance. I don't ask for much, really. Just a chance to undo my wrongs, a chance to make you the happiest woman on earth, a chance to rebuild our family. I want a chance to be in my daughter's life" Logan said sniffling as he wiped his nose before continuing "I really hope you liked this and it's enough to change your mind." Logan finished as he hopped off the stage making his way to me

Lando's protective side started to show a bit because the second he picked up that Logan was making his way to me he instinctively stepped in front of me, only backing up when I rested my hand on his bicep.

"Why? Why would you assume that I'll get back with you after that Logan?" I ask, my eyes raking his face for any type of clues. I don't know what I was expecting to come out of his mouth, but the reply he gave me wasn't it. It also not only made my blood boil, but everyone who knew about the situation's blood boil.

"Zak said you would"

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONEEEEEE <3333

Lemme know if I should keep going!!!

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @eddieharrington

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[dixons-sunshine]

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader—Daryl With A Kid Headcannons

Word count: 733.

A/n: Requests are temporarily closed! I'll open them up again soon, though. Anyways, I hope you like this! (By the way, the child's age isn't mentioned, but it's set around the toddler stage!)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

★ Daryl was so amazed that he had a child of his own.

★ When you had first told him you were pregnant all those years ago, his world had turned upside down. However, the first time he held his baby, he knew it was in a good way.

★ As his child grew up, he did everything with them that his own father never did with him, subconsciously healing his inner child by doing so.

★ When I say everything, I mean everything. From teaching them how to ride a bicycle, to teaching them how to swim, to building pillow forts, to colouring or drawing with them. Anything his child felt like doing that day, he would make a reality.

★ Except if he knew it was dangerous for his child. Then it was an automatic no.

★ Daryl was surprisingly good at handling his child's tantrums. His child shared his own temper, so he knew exactly how to curb their tantrums.

★ He loved having his kid sleep in bed with the two of you. With you on one side and him on the other, the both of you keeping your child safe between the two of you.

★ One of his favourite things in the whole world is when the two of you are cuddled up on the couch with your child resting on either of your chests, some old Disney movie playing on the television.

★ He'd be filled with so much love when he looks from the television and see that the both of you fell asleep while resting against/on him. It made him feel valued, like the two of you trusted him enough to keep you safe while you slept.

★ Talks of having another child come up from time to time. Daryl knows how important having a sibling can be and wants that for his kid, but at the same time, he's terrified of having more children. He was terrified of having just one, but he doesn't regret it.

★ So if you want another kid, he'd never deny you that.

★ Family days are his favourite!

★ Those days where you whip out a deck of Uno cards or some board game you found are some of the absolute best times of his life.

★ Even if your toddler doesn't understand the game and ends up following their own rules. In his opinion, that makes the game even more fun.

★ He knows he doesn't have the best singing voice and he doesn't know any lullabies, but he tries his best.

★ He manages to sing some of his favourite songs from the old world in a tone that closely resembles a lullaby, and that often does the trick.

★ Daryl feels so bad when he raises his voice.

★ After seeing his child cry and run to their room, he instantly feels like the lowest piece of shit on earth. He almost always gets transfered back to those times with his father, and he wonders if he's starting to turn into that bastard.

★ It takes some gentle reassurance from you that he wasn't his dad for him to go up to his child's room and apologize.

★ Cue his surprise and great relief when they run straight into his arms and instantly forgive him.

★ Everything is almost always sorted out by gently addressing the situation, and Daryl always leaves feeling happy, yet frustrated.

★ Happy because his child doesn't hate him and they managed to resolve everything, but frustrated because he realized how easy it was to just sit and talk it out. Not once did he ever feel the urge to hit his kid, so his hatred for his father grew more each time.

★ Whenever he's walking outside with his kid, he loves holding their hand to keep them close.

★ Of course, if the kid didn't like that, he wouldn't push that boundary, but if they didn't mind, Daryl would love to hold their tiny hand in his. It's something his mom used to do with him when he was a toddler and it made him feel safe, so he hoped that his kid felt the same way with him.

★ Daryl loves his child and he always tries his best. That much everyone could see.

[oneforthemunny]

Older!eddie, reacting to hearing both his girls swear for the first time for the blurb request 🤭

i'm assuming you're talking about brielle and delilah, so that's what i did haha! a little parallel type blurb since i know the older!eddie crowd loves it lmao. tw: gina

Seventeen Years Before

"Brie, where ya at, Munchkin?" Eddie's sing-songy tone floated through the small home, over the hum of his boombox in the window.

"In here!" Brielle's little chirp of a tone came from the other room, where she was 'cleaning up', which really meant moving her toys from in front of the TV to the hall.

Gina was gone for the day, and Eddie felt sick at the fact that he was so relieved. They'd been going through a rough patch, endless fighting and bitter remarks behind the toddler's back. So when Eddie had the rare Sunday off, he encouraged Gina to go out with her friends, promising he'd take care of everything.

"Can you come in here, please?" Eddie craned his neck to try and look into the living room, hands still elbow deep in dish water. "I need some help in here. You wanna dry for me?" Really, he wanted to make sure she hadn't somehow found the magic markers, scribbling on the walls again.

"Yes!" Brielle shrieked in laughter, tiny footsteps bounding on the carpeted floor towards the kitchen.

Eddie's head whipped around at the crashing sound, a solid thud that shook the doorframe. Brielle looked up at Eddie from the doorway, hands on the ground, braced from her fall.

"Oh, shit." Eddie muttered, shaking his sudsy hands off, wiping them on his shirt. "Uh-oh. Did you fall?" He tried to keep his voice level. He had learned if he freaked, then she would too.

Brielle looked up, face contorting with a grimace that looked freakishly similar to Gina's. Eddie cringed, crouching in front of her. "Let me see." He picked her up gently, turning her hands over. "No scratches. You're good. All good." His tone lifted, standing with a groan, the toddler on his hip.

"Sit up here and help me dry. Can you do that for me?" Eddie asked, grabbing the rag from the drawer, handing it to Brielle. "Hold it with two hands, alright?"

Brielle's little legs swung on the counter, carefully wiping down each dish Eddie would hand her, his hand hovering over the bottom in case she dropped it.

Eddie turned for a moment, going to finish the stack of sippy cups he hadn't washed out yet. "Are you excited to go to Grandpa's in a few days?" He hummed, looking over at Brielle.

Her face lit up, squealing with excitement, legs kicking faster. "Yes!" She squeaked, arms flinging the towel, knocking over a cup. It toppled before tipping over the side, Eddie's soapy hand splashing out of the water, barely catching it before it crashed.

Brielle's wide eyes met his, matching rounded expressions. "Oh, shit?" Brielle repeated, her tone so adorably soft that Eddie almost thought he heard her wrong.

"What?" Eddie gaped.

"Oh, shit?" Brielle repeated, a slight lisp, the word unfamiliar to her. "It falled?"

"No, no, no," Eddie shook his head, setting the mug down. "Jesus, no, Brielle, look at me." He tried to even out his tone. It would've been funny- really fuckin' funny, actually- if he didn't think Gina might kill him over this. Throw it back in his face and prove her point that he was already not a good father, like she already loved to do.

"You can't say that word." Eddie shook his head. "That's a bad word. A really bad word."

Brielle frowned in confusion. "You says it." She tilted her head to the side.

"I know, and I shouldn't say it." Eddie shook his head. He didn't even realize he'd said it, that she'd heard it. "Look, that's not a good word, ok? And if you say it..." He hesitated.

"If you say that word, Santa doesn't come to visit you." Eddie said seriously. Brielle's face dropped, eyes widening in horror. She was finally old enough to realize the magic of Santa, that he'd bring her toys, all kinds of toys - too many toys, thanks to Santa Wayne who insisted on spoiling her.

"That's why Daddy doesn't get gifts from Santa, because I say bad words." Eddie wasn't entirely sure he should say that, sure parenting books would go against that, but still, he was desperate for her not to say it in front of Gina.

Brielle's face fell, crumbling with fear. "I-I didn't means too!" She wailed, more dramatics than real tears.

"I know, hey, it's ok. You didn't know. That was Daddy's fault." Eddie cringed; definitely not the best thing to do. "It's ok. Now you know, so just don't say it anymore ok?" By some miracle, Brielle managed to forget the word, or at least not say it in front of Gina, which Eddie was beyond thankful for. At least that was one thing she didn't have on him, couldn't throw back in his face and guilt him with.

Seventeen Years Later

"Ed!" You called, flinging through the racks of clothes in the closet. "Eddie! Did you make sure to pack her floaties?"

"Yes, honey." Eddie called back, dragging the next suitcase down the hall towards the front door. "I put two pairs in the beach bag."

"And sunscreen?" You leaned back, eyeing him from your place in the closet.

"Also in the beach bag." Eddie nodded.

"Uh, your sunscreen." You glared at him lightly. "You better make sure that SPF 70 is in there, Munson."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "It is." He grumbled, leaning on the doorframe of the closet, arms crossed over his chest. "Even if it's not, I'll be alright. Never used it before-"

"-And that's why you had to have that place cut off." You glared at him with finality. "Your derm told you to use that, so you better use it, Edward. I'll hold you down and spray it on you if I have to."

Eddie grinned, lines by his eyes crinkling gently. "Don't tempt me with a good time, bunny." He growled lowly, playfully pinching your ass.

You jumped, rolling your eyes at him lightly. "Lilah!" You yelled down the hall. "Do you have your tablet charged? It's a loooong ride, baby. Make sure you've got your charger."

"Okay!" The five year old called back. "I have it in my backpack!"

"Good. Can you bring your backpack here so Daddy can take it out to the car?" You nodded, looking over at Eddie. "Check her bag and make sure."

"I got it." Eddie nodded. "Relax, sweetheart. If we forget something, we'll just stop and get it when we get there."

"I know, I just hate that feeling. I feel like I'm forgetting something, and it's driving me fuc- crazy." You cut yourself off with a small smile, Delilah's bright backpack entering the room before she did. "Thank you, Lilah. Do you want to go potty before we leave one last time?"

Eddie unzipped the backpack, looking in it. "Hm, I don't see your ear phones. Did you pack them?"

"Oh, shit. I forgot." Delilah said flippantly, jumping off the bed. "I'll go get them!"

You and Eddie paused, stunned at the ease and the accuracy that she said. "Did she- you heard that too?" You whispered, eyes wide in shock.

Eddie's lips twitched, swallowing back a smirk. "Yeah." He snickered.

"Eddie!" You gasped. "Don't encourage that." Your own lips were curling, trying to keep your stern composure.

"I'm sorry! But you gotta admit, that's a little funny." Eddie laughed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"She used it correctly too." You rubbed your temples, swallowing back your own smile. "That's somehow worse."

Eddie giggled into his hands, ducking into the closet to compose himself. "Holy shit, never been prouder in my life." He laughed teasingly.

You smacked his shoulder lightly, lips pressed in a tight line. "You're so immature." You shook your head. "Wonder where she got it from." You glared at him lightly, sending him into another fit of giggles.

[alphajocklover]

Wake Up Pops

**A sequel to my earlier story, ‘Wake Up Bro’. It might be little premature to write a sequel only a month later, but the second picture really inspired me. Hope you guys like it, and check out the story of Owen’s transformation into Big O**

“Wake up pops.”

Ben Smith looked up at his son in shock. Lately his son, Owen Smith, had been acting strange. He had shot up more than a foot seemingly overnight, and had gained an almost impossible amount of muscle. It almost hurt Ben’s brain to think about it, like he was noticing something he wasn’t supposed to be able to. Like he was staring at the sun. But he brushed his son's seemingly impossible transformation as a strange growth spurt, just like everyone else did. What other explanation was there? What he couldn’t brush off was his sons… other changes. It was like he was an entirely different person. He had gone from the shy, sensitive, geeky kid that Ben adored to a sport obsessed, crude, overly sexual jock. Worst of all, their relationship as father and son seemed to have just… stopped. Owen and Ben used to be so close. Owen looked up to Ben, Ben adored Owen, and they did practically everything together. But since Owen’s transformation into ‘Big O’ he had consistently ignored his father. Too busy with his new position on the football team, with his new jock bro friends, and with the girls he seemed to constantly be hooking up with. This was the first time that Owen had spoken to Ben in weeks, and what he was saying made… no sense.

“Owen? Is something wrong?” Ben asked, his first instinct to help his son. Strange transformation or not, Owen was Ben’s child. He had to make sure he was ok. Owen grinned a cocky, dumb grin, looking at his dad with slight dull eyes.

“Everything fucking great pops. I just need you to wake up pops.” Owen said. Ben looked at him with confusion. What was his son talking about? He was awake, wasn’t he? Own continued, looking at his father with a strange mix of dull amusement and genuine love. “I know you miss the old me. You miss us being close. I’ve missed you too pops. We can be the same again. You’ve just got to wake up pops.”

Ben, concerned and confused, made a move to comfort his son, when suddenly a wave of vertigo overcame him. The room around him dimmed till all he could see was his sons grinning face, his voice echoing around him. “I love you pops, but a stud like me needs a stud dad. A mentor. I can’t have a geek for a dad. And this way we can be close again. You’re meant to be more than this. It’s time to wake up pops.” Owen said, his grin turning more satisfied and victorious.

Ben felt the room began to spin as he fell back mentally, the words repeating in his mind like an all consuming loop, almost like a vortex. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. WAKE UP POPS.

Ben was so lost in the words that he barely noticed as his son led him over to a mirror. Ben was so shocked by what he saw that he almost passed out right there. He looked… godly. He was impossibly big, with a body so thick and beefy that it commanded respect. His face had become so chiseled and manly that it put marble statues to shame. He barely looked like the suburban dad he once was. More like he belonged in the movies or in porn. He heard Owen laugh, a confident, manly laugh that Ben felt himself echoing without even meaning to. Owen spoke once more, a look of pride on his face.

“Fuck yeah pops! Now we’re both total studs! You let your inner jock wake up, and now we’re gonna fucking rule this town together!”

Ben felt his old self recede, as something else, someone else woke up and took control. Ben fell asleep, and Big Os pops, Coach Smith, woke up. Coach patted his son on the back, a smug grin on his face “Fuck yeah we will son.”

[syrupfog]

Zoro hates it here. 

“Tough shit,” says Nami. “You have to suffer through the evening to meet your fucking FIANCÉ.” 

Zoro scowls. He’s never met the man. They’ve been engaged since he was young enough to still fight with bamboo swords. “It’s not like I’m going to marry him.” 

“I keep saying a political marriage would really help your image,” Nami lectures, “but regardless, this is PROTOCOL. Your parents would be ashamed of you trying to skip out on this.” 

“My parents died when I was six, and you never met them.” 

“Yet I know better. Now come on.”

It’s a lavish ballroom that Zoro never uses, and he’s in clothes he never wears. He’s itchy. Standing next to his throne, as is PROTOCOL, thanks Nami, he watches the procession as they enter. 

Their king is tall and clearly pompous. His outfit gaudy. His children come behind him.

Zoro’s people, his most trusted, are fanned throughout the room, but the king and his children stand a head above everyone. Zoro counts one daughter and three sons, each of them standing equally proud and in equally flashy clothes. 

No, wait. 

Is that a fourth son or a servant?

He’s shorter than the others, thinner, almost sickly in comparison. But he’s wearing the royal finery. His head is bowed, in contrast to theirs. A cousin maybe? Why is he here? 

The king marches directly up to Zoro and does not bow, which he SHOULD do on Shimotsuki soil.

He stands straight, and says, “Crown Prince Roronoa, I present to you my children; Reiju, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji, and Sanji.” 

The— the sickly pale one? HE’s the one Zoro’s been promised to? 

Sanji keeps his head down, but unlike his siblings he does a slight bow upon introduction.

Zoro scowls until Nami kicks him. Then he bows back, EVER so slightly, and gestures to the room at large. “Please enjoy the evening,” he says. “You’ve come a long way.” He can feel Nami breathing down his neck. “Let me personally escort Prince Sanji, so we have time to… talk.”

He holds out his arm and Sanji, obligingly, slips his hand into the crook of Zoro’s elbow. He hears snickering behind him as he leads Sanji away.” 

The crowd parts around them, and Zoro grinds his teeth. He’d really prefer not to break up with someone he’s never even met.

Still, such things must be done. Leading Sanji out onto the balcony, in the cool night air, Zoro lets his arm fall and then turns to him. “So,” he hedges. “Our parents betrothed us.” 

Sanji inclines his head. “Yes, sire,” he says, staring resolutely at the floor.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m my own person now, and I don’t particularly feel like getting married to someone I’ve never met.” 

At that, Sanji’s eyes shoot up, wide and searching. 

“So I release you from this bond,” Zoro says. “Or whatever it was Nami says I should say.”

“You—“ Sanji stutters. “N-no, wait.” 

Zoro crosses his arms. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me,” he says. “I have no interest in marrying someone I’ve never met.” 

“Y-you’re meeting me NOW,” Sanji cries. “You can get to know me! Give me a chance.”

He looks like he would collapse in a strong wind, already standing with one arm braced against the railing. Zoro is a warrior, he needs someone who can challenge him, not… whatever this is. “I’ve made up my mind,” he says. “Sorry you had to come all the way here.”

Sanji starts tugging on his hair. “No,” he says again. “You can’t do this! You— I’ll—“ 

“What?” Zoro asks. “You’ll tell daddy on me?” 

Breathing heavily, Sanji looks at him with wild eyes. “Please,” he says. “I’ll— do anything. You won’t know I’m here. Just don’t—“

Then, in what seems like a snap decision, he turns around and takes off running. 

Zoro follows, languidly, watching him race back through the ballroom. He figures he’ll run to his father and start telling him what a monster Zoro is, but instead Sanji takes the first door out.

Shit. Zoro speeds up. That’s the door to the rest of the castle, not the way out or the way to his family. What the hell? 

He keeps his pace slow enough to not alert TOO many in the ballroom (though he sees the thunderous look Nami throws his way), but as soon as he’s through the door Sanji left through, he also takes off at a run, seeing Sanji at the end of the hallway. 

The castle is enough of a maze for Zoro on a good day, he’s certain that if he slows down for even a second he’ll lose the prince somewhere in his own halls.

The one point in his favor is that Sanji does seem to truly be sickly, even at a run he’s not particularly fast. It takes three turns and a set of stairs before Zoro catches him running into an open door that he KNOWS doesn’t have an exit.

He follows Sanji in and slams the door behind him. It’s a bedroom, and Zoro knows immediately which one, namely because it’s in use. 

“Hey Luffy,” Zoro says. Nami had banned Luffy from attending, to prevent “incidents”. 

Luffy waves. He’s reclining on his bed with a turkey stick.

“You see a prince come in here?” Zoro asks. “Scrawny, pale, can’t take no for an answer?” 

Luffy laughs through his teeth. “I don’t know about any of that,” he says. “But there’s a guy in a fancy outfit in my wardrobe.” 

Aha. 

Zoro rounds on the wardrobe.

One hand on each knob, he pulls it open with a flourish. 

Sanji is there, curled with his knees to his chest, staring up at Zoro with watery eyes. 

“Asylum!” He yelps. “I claim asylum!” 

Zoro blinks. “You that ashamed of getting dumped?” He asks. 

Sanji grits his teeth.

“Grant me asylum,” he says, voice firmer. “Or you’re going to be at war with Germa by sunset for killing their prince.” 

“I’m not fucking killing you, I’m just—“ 

“I will throw myself out that window before I have to go back there.” 

Luffy whistles. “I like him,” he says.

“You’re being dramatic,” Zoro growls. 

“I’m a dead man if I go back there,” Sanji says. “If you’re going to take away the only chance of freedom I’ve ever had, the least you can do is grant asylum. I’ll live a beggar on your streets before I chance returning.”

He’s shaking, but Zoro sees determination in his eyes that he respects. “What’s so bad about it?” He asks. “Why do you think here would be better?” 

Sanji’s hands flex around a fallen coat. “I like to think you won’t keep me in a windowless dungeon for a decade,” he says.

“I’d imagine you may even allow me more than one meal a day.” 

Zoro stares at him, feeling uncomprehending. That can’t be right. 

“Sounds like you should marry him,” Luffy says from the bed. “That’s not a great life.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” Zoro asks. He’s looming over Sanji. “As in, what did you do to deserve that?” 

Sanji blinks, then looks down, curling in on himself. “I was born of my mother’s blood,” he says. “He sees her in my eyes and he hates me for it.” 

There’s a strength in him. To have lived this long. Zoro sees that and something in him gives way. He doesn’t want it to, he doesn’t want this veritable stranger to have his respect, but— 

“Luffy,” he says. “Escort the Vinsmokes out of here.” 

Luffy gives a crooked salute that in no way resembles the way he should refer to the crown prince. “On it, boss.”

Sanji’s grip tightens around the clothes. “Please,” he chokes out, desperation rising. “Please, you won’t even— you don’t have to even officially accept my plea for asylum, if you just turn the other way so I can—“ 

“Shut up,” Zoro says, taking a step back and rubbing his face.

“Fucking hell of course I wasn’t referring to you.” Luffy’s already out the door or he’d make Luffy clarify. “He’s kicking all of THEM out, you’re obviously staying here.” 

“Oh…” Sanji trails off. “Th-thank you. I— I’ll take whatever position you deem acceptable. I’m an excellent chef, I can work in your kitchens! You’ll never know—“ 

Zoro, tired of this, reaches down and pulls Sanji out of the wardrobe. Suddenly upright, Sanji stumbles into his arms with a yelp. 

“Slow down,” Zoro grouses. “You wore me down. I’ll fucking marry you.”

“You’ll— what?” Sanji, whose hands are on Zoro’s shoulders and whose face is so very close to Zoro’s own, blinks. “WHY?” 

“Because your family seems like a fucking nightmare so I need to keep an eye on you,” Zoro says. He doesn’t say, and you’re strong. You survive.

He doesn’t say, your will to escape and to live makes me want to do everything to protect you. 

He doesn’t say that because that would make him sound idiotic and like Sanji needs saving. He’s clearly doing that on his own. 

Zoro’s just going to help him along.

He takes a step back and steadies Sanji. There’s the faint sound of shouting in the distance. Zoro grabs Sanji’s hand. “Luffy should be done soon,” he says. 

“Uh,” says Sanji. “Is he going to be okay…?” 

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine.” 

Zoro grabs Sanji’s hand. He squeezes it.

He says, “You seem like the type to care about wedding planning.” 

Sanji seems dazed. “Uh,” he says, wavering. “I have plans.” 

“Good. I don’t give a fuck. You can talk to Nami about them. Just tell me where to go and what to wear.” 

Sanji fishmouths at him. 

The door opens.

Luffy steps in. His shirt is a little torn and there’s leaves in his hair. “Vine Smackers are gone,” he says, giving his crooked salute to Zoro. Then he looks at Sanji. “You need me to beat up your family too?” 

“Luffy you dumbass,” Zoro says. “That WAS his family.”

“I don’t have a family,” Sanji corrects, voice small but gaining confidence. “I-if you’re willing to marry someone without a family, that is.” 

Zoro shrugs. “Suits me perfectly, actually. I didn’t want to be connected to that shitty country anyway.” 

Sanji laughs. “Me neither.”

“You’re both weird,” Luffy says. “I’m going to raid what’s left of the dinner that I assume isn’t going to happen now.” 

Then he’s gone again. 

Zoro’s still holding Sanji’s hand. 

Nami’s going to murder him. 

He raises up the hand and kisses Sanji’s knuckles. That sounds like a protocol thing, right? No one can make fun of him. 

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll introduce you to… everyone.” 

He pulls Sanji out of the room, gets lost in the hallways, then finds the ballroom again. 

Time to introduce his fiancé. 

He’s strong. Zoro will help him be strong.

[sleepyangelkami]

Omgg I'm new to tublr but I love ur work smm could you pls do more carl grimes

SHELTERED c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.8K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - carl's alexandrian girlfriend had always been somewhat sheltered, never so much as laid eyes on a zombie. however, when he decides to go on a supply run with his dad, some of her friends drag her to a party in the woods where she uncovers her first ever walker.

 ☆ WARNINGS - blood, gore, zombies, twd themes, violence, guns, crying, anxiety, worry, (1) use of y/n, pet names, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

alexandria was a quiet place in a world of chaos. it was nothing but comfort and clouds, nothing to worry for, nothing to be anxious about.

carl was anything but.

the boy was quite alike a storm the minute he'd entered the town. he was... different from other kids, that much was for sure. he was interested in comics and action while most the kids of alexandria only cared for their xbox's that were powered by the solar pannels.

so it was safe to say that when carl grimes made his way to the gazebo on a sunny day to read his action comic, you sitting with your romance novel threw him off a little.

he soon realised that you too were different.

you two got close so quickly, with your shelteredness, growing up in alexandria and his need to protect, having been on the road for so long, you were practically attached by the hip and the whole of alexandria could see.

when carl first met you, he took not of the plain innocence you displayed, not just because of your skirts and dresses that you pranced around in, pretty bow against your hair, but the fact that you grew up in alexandria. when shit hit the fan and the world turned to death, you never had to experience any of it. you were simply shielded from the dangers of the world as soon as the walls had been placed around your town.

truthfully, carl was glad.

one of the things the boy loved the most about you was the type of purity you displayed. every one of your actions was done with the need to help people. pure intentions.

you didn't have the type of heart for a world like their own, much too sweet to face the death that would stare right back at you.

"do you have to go?" That mumble he'd grown rather attached to. you used that mumble when you were tired, like now when the sun had set and darkness loomed over the town, still wrapped in your own bedsheets.

the boy hummed with dissatisfaction. "i'll be back tomorrow night." it wasn't unusual for the boy to leave at random hours of the night, not making it back until the next. it was to help his father and daryl on their runs, to get what the town needed.

was it selfish to wish he didn't have to?

you made a whine type of noise while muffled between the white pillows. carl only smiled softly. "get some rest, baby." the boy with the cowboy hat pressed a gentle kiss against the crown of your head, picking up his gun and making his way towards the door. "goodnight."

"g'night." but you were almost positive that you'd been asleep by the time the door closed shut again.

as much as carl loved going out on runs, there was something so god awful about leaving you wrapped up in the bed, alone. you were so sheltered your entire life, never knowing what was out there. it was almost as if he felt the need to protect you at all times, every day, assure both you and him that nothing was going to happen to you.

you had no intentions of leaving the walls.

alexandria was your home, your safety. you'd never so much as seen a walker before and you didn't plan on it anytime soon.

so when the words, "so, are you going?" came out of your best friends boyfriends lips, you only stared in shock.

enid, your best friend could only roll her eyes at the boy. "she doesn't want to." she spoke for you. "y/n doesn't like going outside of the walls, you know this."

and yet, he pressed further. "come on, everyone's gonna bet there, this will be the biggest one yet." a party that the teenagers and some of the younger adults went to. it was beyond the walls, out past where you were supposed to be. if anyone were to ever find out, you'd all be killed. so, you kept your mouth shut in hoping that if someone did find out about the parties, you'd never be tied to it. it wasn't as if you'd ever gone to one. "your little boyfriend never lets you go."

ron anderson wasn't the fondest of your boyfriend. it was evident since the day they met that they didn't like each other. believe me, carl had as much of a distaste for the boy as he did him. "carl isn't the reason."

"then what is?" you shrugged your shoulders, glancing down at your shoes. "you never do anything with us, it's like carl is the only thing you care about."

manipulation at it's finest. harmless, though, right?

"what?" an evident frown came across your face upon the realisation that your friends weren't even all the way sure if you liked them. "i do care about you guys."

"then do something with us for a change." the fourth of the group chimed in, mikey was his name. "besides, carl's gone and it's not like we're gonna tell him. your secrets safe with us."

you didn't want to go.

yet somehow, you found yourself wound up exactly where you 'didn't want to be'.

it wasn't that you were worried what carl would think. truthfully, as much as you valued the boy's opinion, you would never let him boss you around and tell you what you could and couldn't do. carl accepted you for all the beauty, all the ugly and never so much as questioned your actions, only doting when you got hurt. you couldn't love someone more. and neither could he.

but when your friends announced that they thought all you cared about was carl, you couldn't help but feel the guilt swirl through your veins. you loved carl, adored even but you could have friends to.

worried that they'd think you didn't want to hang out with them anymore, you found yourself for the first time in your life, exiting the walls.

you knew it was wrong the moment you stepped outside.

carl's old discarded flannel did nothing to help you keep the heat inside your body. you held it close, hoping the scent of carl would overpower the scent of alcohol that filled your nose. "you okay?" enid was the only one who took notice of your stiff figure.

" 'm fine." was the answer you gave, whether or not it had been true. all your mind could travel to was your boyfriend. yes, you never wanted to leave the walls of alexandria in fear of the walkers but you also knew how much carl wished for you to stay behind the protective walls to.

and he was going to be so mad once he found out where you were.

you could imagine him walking onto the street where your house lay. he'd climbed in through your bedroom window thousands of times before, you left it open for him to enter at any stage of the day or night. now, he'd find an empty bed.

enid noticed the way your face was twitching, though. "you sure? i can stay with you, if you want." but you could see the way her eyes were trailing towards her boyfriend from the other side of the party.

"no, it's okay." the girl gave you a unconvinced face. "really, 'm okay, now go get your boyfriend."

but you weren't okay.

the anxious thought started over as soon as enid left your side. the party unfolded, stupid music playing in the background. surely, that would attract walkers? your hazy eyes looked from person to person. enid was sat atop ron's lap, kissing him. mikey was between two girls, grinning to himself with a bottle in his hands. various other teenagers having the time of their lives. one boy, ethan you thought the name was, was standing on top of a makeshift table, chugging cans until the table collapsed beneath him.

you couldn't bear the sight, nor the smell of alcohol or any of the worry that filled your lungs making it suddenly hard to breathe.

you could imagine the state this would end up in, should a walker make it's way here. the teenagers here were the same sheltered people you'd grown up with, they'd went to the school with you in alexandria, they'd never been beyond the walls. now, they had and they hadn't been hunted down by walkers yet so they didn't expect it to happen.

but what if it did?

none of them were fighters, none of them went on supply runs or so much as tried to deal with walkers before.

it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

and you simply couldn't be here anymore.

your chest was heavy as you stood from your place on the ground, trying to make your way towards the woods, tripping over rocks and bottles as you went.

the forest was dark and hidden, no light source aside from the moon. you squinted your eyes, trying to see where you were going. you looked in front of you, suddenly not knowing whether to turn left or right.

had you even taken this road on the way here...?

sudden worry that you were going the wrong way. you couldn't hear the music of the party anymore, it was long gone and it had been your only way back there.

you were lost and if you didn't make it back to the party or alexandria soon, nobody would ever find you. that's what you told yourself, at least. carl would spend forever looking for you until one day, he'll stumble across your dead corpse, either half eaten or roaming around in the same clothes you'd worn that day, his flannel shirt hanging from your frame.

the thoughts caused your head to spin, obviously not taking much notice of the ground in front of you. you held your hands out as your foot tripped over a rock, you used them to catch whatever was in front of you, preventing your fall.

you grasped what you thought was a tree.

until you heard the groan of the dead.

it stared you in the eye, his own glazed over with a type of grey. blood surrounded his mouth, dead skin hanging from his body. he appeared to be missing a finger.

you yelped, falling backwards and straight onto your back. your head scratched itself off a rock, using your hands to straighten yourself back up when you noticed it hadn't just been one dead, but three.

they all turned to you, a sick hungry look in their eye as they began stalking forward, gugrles and groans leaving their mouthes as they found the food of that day.

you'd never seen one before though you knew they'd be horrid looking. you never expected the smell, though. the rotting flesh scent that filled your nose, certainly overpowering the scent of the flannel. their rotted teeth and lack of hair had you scrambling to find something, a rock, a discarded knife or twig, something to use as some kind of a weapon.

but the truth was, you'd been sheltered too long.

how were you ever supposed to pick yourself up out of something like this when you didn't know the first thing about walkers.

you would have accepted your faith with a scream, let them tear into your flesh because you were no help to anybody, including yourself.

you couldn't so much as weave your way away from three walkers, hopeless.

then the sight of a knife sticking into his head was in front of you.

blood spurted out, covering your clothes and the boy next to the walker. carl grimes with his infamous sheriff's hat along with the knife that he plunged into the walker's head. "what the hell are you doing out here?!" shock was evident in his voice, though he appeared to be alone. he whipped around, taking out both the other two walkers while you merely stared in shock.

the blood that spurted onto the ground as the final walker fell to the grass. your glassy eyes could still make out carl's boot stomping onto its head, squishing it and causing blood, insides and flesh to tear and fall.

carl was met with the sight of your glassy eyes staring up at him, fear-stricken expression.

he found himself rushing towards you.

"'m sorry, 'm so sorry, carl. i didn't― ron―" the words came out like a childish blubber, unable to form sentences as fat tears left your eyes, rolling down your flush cheeks.

"are you bit?" carl didn't care for the words you spoke, scanning your body, pushing your arm up to scan wherever he could. "did you hurt your―" he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the blood dripping from your forehead. "what did you do?"

the sound of his disapproving voice was enough for your breath to shake. "'m sorry." you kept repeating. "i just― please don't be mad at me."

finally the words that ached the back of your throat.

it seemed as though shock was the thing that fell across his face, wondering why you'd ever think he'd get mad at you for something like this. "hey, hey, 'm not mad, baby, c'mere." in the dead of night, through the trees, the boy took you into his arms, seating you onto his lap as the sobs emitted your mouth. he carefully drew circles on your back with the palm of his hand. "you're jus' scared, is all, you're okay, sweetheart." sweet nothings filled your ears, nothing but comfort against your skin.

you choked, blubbering as you pushed your face away from the crook of his neck. "the others― we have to warn them." though eyes still full of tears.

innocence had obviously still been deeply embedded into your brain. otherwise, you would have figured out by now that they'd known. "They know, baby." you looked at him with confusion. "saw a couple of them throwing rocks at a walker."

thoughts filled your brain, confused.

enid and ron told you that this was the safest party there was. and despite your obvious doubts about something so ridiculous, they'd assured you that no walker had ever been so much as seen where you would be going.

you felt a pang of betrayal set in your bones. not only at the fact that they'd lied but at the fact that these people you grew up with, very same innocence as your own, were using walkers like toys, pets even.

"come on, pretty girl." fingers working against your waist, gently soothing the skin. "let's get you home."

home. that sounded nice. "'kay." voice still slick with your earlier tears.

carl practically carried you all the way home. it wasn't until you were sat inside your bathroom, sat against the porcelain toilet while he crouched in front of you on the ground that the tears stopped. "'s gonna hurt." he warned.

you nodded, fingers holding around his own hand while the free one used a cotton pad filled with rubbing alcohol to disinfect the wound.

you winced, glass glossing over again. "i know, sweetheart, i know." pretty words falling from his lips as he cared for you like no other human being would ever be capable of doing. "jus' gotta get it done, yeah?"

and he did just that, quickly disinfecting the wound before grasping the gauze. your eyes were open, staring forward at his pretty face in front of you. he looked tired enough but he usually did with his sunken eye and tired perplexion. you always said it was because he wasn't eating enough. that was the thing about carl, always forgetting to take care of himself in the simplest of ways.

but you? no, he couldn't possibly forget a thing.

" 'm sorry." you'd said it before, but you couldn't express it enough.

carl slowly retracted his hands from your face, sighing gently. he moved his hands back up, only this time they cupped your cheeks instead of dusting your forehead. "what you did was stupid." you nodded in agreement. "you should know better, what's out there should stay out there and you should stay in here, where it's safe." you didn't bother explaining the situation, knowing it'd been you who decided to leave, ron didn't decide that for you. "you're lucky today didn't end worse."

"i know." voice cracking as your eyes gazed down upon the tiled ground of your bathroom where carl crouched.

he lifted your face up with his left hand, tilting his head slightly. "but that doesn't mean 'm mad at you, you know that, right?" you shrugged, supposing you didn't know that. "could never be mad at you."

"'m an idiot." you mumbled, attempting to look as far away from the boy as you could.

"a little." he grinned causing you to turn with a smile of your own. "'s okay, though. i'll do the thinkin' for you from now on, yeah?"

didn't seem like too bad of an idea.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[joeyalohadream]

Clegan Modern Neighbors! AU

This will be a multi-chapter buck x bucky modern AU and they're neighbors! I'm excited and also nervous for this one, but eager to share. I have it all mapped out, but figured I'd get the introduction out there to see if there is any interest.

Title: Never Thought I’d Fall for the Boy Next Door

Introduction –

The unit next to Bucky’s own in the quaint lakeside apartment building near the marina in Manitowoc has been vacant since the red eviction notice was hung on the door back in May. Now, only days away from August beginning Bucky notices a change for the first time in weeks.

He exits the elevator upon his return from the marina, sweat soaked and sunburnt from working in the hot summer sun all morning. As he walks past the vacant 6B, he notices that the door is ajar. His footsteps halt out of curiosity, but as he’s about to give a gentle knock, the door swings open and he smiles as he’s greeted by Robert Rosenthal exiting the unit.

“Rosie, my favorite landlord!” Bucky moves to close the space between them to go in for his typical enthusiastic full body handshake but is swatted with the clipboard in his friend’s hand before he can make contact.

“Keep your sweaty paws to yourself Egan,” Rosie grumbles, but still smiles and nods in lieu of Bucky’s preferred physical greeting.

Bucky throws him an exaggerated pout but backs off with his hands raised placatingly. Rosie and he have known each other since their days playing high school baseball and while Bucky loves to push his buttons, he can acknowledge that he’s a little more than ripe at the moment.

“So, what brings you up to my floor? I haven’t seen you around much since that yahoo finally moved outta here.”

Bucky had been more than happy to see his last neighbor go. Bucky had lived in this building, in 6A, since he returned from college six years ago and he was proud of the work and care he’d put into it to make it a home. Other than his ma’s house, no place was more comfortable to him than the little nook he’d carved out for himself in this building.

He'd gone through many neighbors over the years. It’s a small place, typically attracting young couples on their way to saving to buy their first home. Most of his experiences had been positive. He’s a friendly guy and he always wants to make new friends, so the forced proximity of sharing this corner of the hallway with 6B inevitably leads to some meetups.

The first neighbor Bucky had had was a man, a couple years his junior, by the name of Curt Biddick. He’d moved in to get a break away from his parents, who he had since learned came from old money, and a lot of it. He and Bucky had become fast friends, a shared love of food, alcohol and sports had led to many an evening in each other’s spaces.

Once Curt had finished his culinary classes at the technical school downtown, he’d reconnected with his family and eventually moved out to a large house right on the water. Bucky spends almost every weekend over there lazing about the beach and the pool and utilizing all of Curt’s waterfront toys.

When Curt isn’t helping his father run the two restaurants he owns, he’s collaborating with Bucky on his podcast, and Bucky couldn’t be more grateful to Rosie that he’d leased 6B to someone who grew to be one of his closest friends.

While his first ever neighbor turned out to be a blessing, his last one was a curse. A man in his mid-thirties had moved in at the beginning of the year and at first, he’d seemed decent. He had no interest in small talk, but he wasn’t rude about it. The most Bucky got from him was a head nod and an occasional, “hello.” Which was fine. Bucky was aware that despite his roguish good looks and his undeniable charm, not everyone wanted to be his best friend.

But after a month had gone by, he noticed that the guy from 6B was no longer a loner. The door opened at all hours of the day and night and Bucky noticed an endless string of visitors. Some around his age, some significantly older, some men and some women. The loud music started soon after the visitors, followed by constant shouting and what sounded like a not insignificant amount of potential property damage. The smell of cigarette smoke creeped into the hallway constantly, and despite indulging in the habit himself on occasion, it bothered Bucky endlessly that Rosie’s pride and joy was being treated like a bar.

He’d tried to speak with his neighbor about the disturbance one time, but when he’d answered the door, it was clear that something chemical had taken 6Bs ability to even stand up straight. He’d been angry the moment he’d opened the door and noticed it was Bucky and not one of his usual visitors. Bucky had made it back into his apartment with a crumpled shirt and a clenched fist, proud of himself that his famous temper was still controllable when he really wanted it to be.

 His little slice of comfort he’d created for himself in this building was slowly becoming a burden and he spent more nights sleeping in one of the many spare bedrooms at Curt’s place than in his own apartment.

Only after Curt offered him a permanent relocation, “You know I got plenty a’ space to spare Bucky,” did he finally gather his wits and speak to Rosie.

While Bucky had been away at college studying Sports Broadcasting, Rosie had apprenticed with his father who owned several residential properties in Manitowoc, including this one. He completed some maintenance and management courses at the same technical school Curt ended up attending and eventually was given ownership of this property. Bucky had rented from him during his first month of ownership and the improvements that Rosie made hadn’t stopped since. He put his trust in his landlord and friend, shared his concerns about his neighbor and after a couple weeks of police reports and confrontations that improved Rosie’s already impeccable reputation in Bucky’s eyes, an eviction notice was slapped on 6B.

Thankfully Bucky never saw him again after that, and other than the very occasional disheveled visitor that somehow makes it passed the digital locks into the building to knock on the door to the empty apartment, Bucky has had his little slice of paradise back.

Taking in the clipboard in Rosie’s hand and only just now noticing the smell of fresh paint permeating through the door, Bucky hopes that still stays true.

Rosie heaves a sigh, “I had some contractors come in early this morning to put a fresh coat of paint in the unit. The cigarette smell really lingers and it’s made it tough to rent.”

“I’ll bet,” Bucky grimaces. “Think the paint will do the trick for ya?”

Rosie shrugs with a smile, “Doesn’t much matter actually seeing as I rented it two days ago, even with that stench.”

Bucky blinks in surprise and scoffs, “Let me guess, they wanted lower rent and a fresh paint job to sweeten the deal?”

Rosie laughs and shakes his head, “That’s honestly what I expected, and I probably would’ve gone for it at this point. But no, not at all. This guy just looked around and said it was fine. He even asked if he was allowed to paint the walls or if it was against the lease agreement.”

“That right?” Bucky was skeptical, but he had already decided to be very picky about who got to be his neighbor from now on.

“Yeah, man,” Rosie continued. “I was standing right next to him, and the smell was bothering me so it had to bother him too. But he just asked if he could paint. I’m sure he figured it would help with the smell and didn’t want to push.”

“But why wouldn’t he want to push?” Bucky questioned the odd behavior. “I wouldn’t want to pay my hard-earned money for a place that smelled like a bar, no offense, and I definitely wouldn’t spend my hard earned money to also offer to fix it.”

Rosie laughed but nodded too. “Yeah, Bucky I know. But that’s honestly one of the reasons I rented it to him so quick. I think he’s just a genuinely good dude. He’d already passed the rental background check with flying colors, and he seemed a little desperate to get into somewhere near here. I didn’t want to lose the business.”

Bucky nodded along but still had his doubts. “You say he seems like a ‘genuinely good dude’? Well, I say he sounds gullible as hell and a little naive.”

Rosie puts one hand on his hip and waves his clipboard at him with the other. “Alright Bucky, that’s enough of that.” He scolds. “I know your last experience with a new neighbor was worse than bad and I sympathize with that, especially considering I rented the unit to the guy.”

Bucky immediately moves to defend Rosie. Despite the truth of his words, Bucky doesn’t have any ill will towards the other man, only gratitude for how quickly he righted the situation.

“I’m not done yet,” Rosie cuts him off with another swing of his clipboard. “But this new guy is not like that. I’m willing to bet my reputation that this one is going to work out for both of us. I’ve only met him in person once, but I can already tell you’re going to like him.”

Bucky trusts Rosie, he really does but he’s going to go into this new situation with both eyes wide open. The last occupant of 6B seemed perfectly normal at first too, so Bucky is not just going to take Rosie’s word for it.

“Alright, I’ll keep an open mind,” Bucky relents a little, letting Rosie lower his clipboard. “But then why’d you have the apartment painted if the guy agreed to take it as is?”

Rosie rubs the back of his neck and shrugs, “I felt bad renting it to someone like him without at least trying to improve it a bit. Plus, I take pride in this place, and it’ll help me sleep at night.”

“Someone like him?”

Rosie looks a little flustered, “He’s like, really nice Bucky. Kind, you know?”

Bucky narrows his eyes, “Would you have painted it for someone like me Rosie?”

Rosie laughs and pats him on the shoulder, pulling his hand away with a grimace when it comes away wet and Bucky laughs in return. “Course I would Bucky.”

“You’re good people Rosie,” Bucky answers. “Well, when’s my future neighbor move in, huh?”

Rosie looks at his watch and does some mental math. “He’s coming by for the paperwork and the keys in an hour, but he said it’ll take him a couple of days to actually move in.”

Bucky sighs and nods, “Alright well, I’m going out with Curt and Kenny for drinks tonight so I’ll probably miss him. I’ll roll out the welcome wagon when I see him around.”

“Thanks Bucky,” Rosie says with a small smile. “I know you got used to the solitude, but you can trust me on this. You’re gonna like 6B.”

“Only time will tell Rosie,” Bucky backs away towards his own door. “Catch ya later!”

He watches as Rosie waves his clipboard at him and then makes his way down the hall towards the elevator. Bucky enters his apartment and pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it into his hamper once he reaches his bedroom. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots a quick text to Curt.

Getting a new neighbor in the next couple days. Still up for drinks?

He undresses and turns the shower on and waits for the water to warm. His phone buzzes and he laughs as reads the message.

Aw, no neighbor will ever compare to your first 6B 😉 But if they turn out to be like the last one, I’m ready to kick some ass.

Noted, tough guy. Drinks?

Satisfied with the water temperature, Bucky goes to put the phone down when it buzzes in his hand.

As long as you don’t mind being a third wheel!

Bucky grins and replies immediately.

You gotta actually ask him out before I can be considered a third wheel Curtie.

I’m playing the long game Bucky, you know that.

Eager to wash off the mornings grime, Bucky sends another text.

Where and when?

He waits a moment and grins at his phone as he reads Curt’s response.

The Wharf at 5! Second shift starts at 4 and Benny hired a new server we gotta check out. Well youuuuu gotta check out. I’m telling you, Bucky… you’re gonna swoon.

Only time will tell, see you at 5!

He shoots the text back and drops the phone onto the counter, finally hoping into the hot stream of water. Two new people to meet apparently in his very near future. He’s as skeptical of Curt’s matchmaking skill as he is of having a new neighbor so he’s not feeling overly confident on either front.

Only time will time.

[rebo-chan]

Something I was thinking about lately is Tsuna's daddy issues. Specifically this frame.

Like that's such a loaded thing to think about. He's got so much resentment built up. Obviously, there's no direct connection to any of Tsuna's issues made but I think a few fun things can be said from this. In general, Tsuna clearly didn't have a father figure in his life which sorta results in him leaning on Reborn pretty often. Tsuna doesn't have a very stable self-esteem with him going from confident to "Aah, Gokuderas going to become disillusioned with me now that all my flaws have been pointed out." GOKUDERA. His FIRST SUBORDINATE. The guy who literally has been LOYAL FROM DAY ONE. Not that we consider them canon, but this happens also during the filler arcs where Daemon points out that Tsuna's not worth following to Gokudera and it seems to make Tsuna a little antsy. He DOES NOT THINK THE PEOPLE HE LOVES ARE GOING TO STAY WITH HIM, THIS IS LITERALLY RUINING MY LIFE. What Daddy Issues DO TO A MF. But that's a post for another day. But okay, back to Reborn, Reborn proves himself to be immovable from Tsuna's life. The story points out that Tsuna very much has two fathers. The one who won't leave and the one who is always gone. Tsuna really leans on Reborn throughout the series. "Reborn, what do I do?" Is a common thing he says, until Reborn is literally swept away from him against his will in Future arc where he's forced to think that he's half a person in Reborns absence. Meanwhile, we have Iemitsu who Tsuna has resentment built up towards, does not respect, and is forced to acknowledge in order to win his fight. Throughout the rainbow arc battle, they try to point out that Iemitsu is trying to teach Tsuna something here and unless I'm confused (someone feel free to tell me?) it's not really clear WHAT that is. And I've always thought that was neat, because it's obviously coming from Tsuna's inability to respect Iemitsu enough to want to learn anything from him. Yet when Reborn comes in, hell he doesn't even recognize him in his Adult form, but he politely listens and takes his advice seriously. In the grand scheme of the series, Reborn is a good teacher and father figure in his life. When Tsuna is made to feel like that he can't do anything in Reborn's absence during Future, Reborn takes a step back in that arc and lets him learn to survive without his guidance. (Notice how the training almost entirely disappears after Future.) He lets him learn how to be a person without him, only stepping in to help when Tsuna really needs it. When he's unable to light his flame, with Spanner, or when he's freaking out about the Irie reveal, the list really goes on. There's a scene I recall I believe when Yuni asks to join their group, Tsuna still turns to ask Reborn what to do, and Reborn redirects him by asking him what he wants to do. That it was his call as a boss. And Tsuna ends up making the decision to help her off his own accord.

It's with Reborn's guidance that Tsuna ends up learning to be his own person, it's this guidance that allows him to make the decision and gather everyone on his own accord when it was Reborn's turn to be shaky and give up. Where Tsuna tells him that he's got this under control, without his guidance. To just watch him. "you've always knew I could win before." It's this arc where Reborn's pride in Tsuna shines. Multiple times. "Surprise me again, Tsuna." And he does. It's in Reborn's second absence where Tsuna feels himself get shaky again, feels the old feelings of poor self image crop up, that Reborn comes back. Because Reborn is not Iemitsu, and he wasn't someone who left him in that house alone forever. Because he's still young and has much to learn before he's ready to do this on his own. It's at this he feels a little embarrassed about how glad he is that Reborn came back, but then recalls the "mean words" that Reborn said before leaving. It's here that Reborn tells him it's a good thing he hasn't changed much. Another sliver of guidance that Tsuna takes in from the figure in his life that won't leave him alone in that house.

[arty-e]

Faziah's Mini Story

tw death, blood and religious trauma and fear

Faziah was the first born between her and her twin sister, Tanya, only by 10 minutes in 11,442. She was a serious child who knew her destiny would end up making her the King of Jokers, a high priestess, just like her father the then current king off jokers, high priest Taye Tzoker, that presided over jokers. Take taught both his daughters Jokers and Imara ideology, their beliefs and their values. Faziah studied very piece of scripture she could find analysing every word her fae ever said to mortals becoming more zealous with each word she read; while Ranya took a much more literal approach of Imara’s teachings; to be free and run free.

When Taye felt Faziah was ready he took her down to catacombs that lay in the temple they lived in, and revealed the true purpose of their role; to protect and hide away ancient artefacts that had been left behind by the fae. In there Faziah all sorts of strange things that no one had understood since the forgotten kingdom. Her father explained many people had tried to break in and steal the artefacts but had only ever failed. Now it was her turn to take up her predecessors mantle and protect them at all costs.

As the twins grew older they both went their operate ways with two entirely different purposes; one understanding their role the other going off to put their teachings into practice to see the world. Faziah helped her father day in and day out eager to take his place one day, she helped manager and care for temple in the jokers capital Oasisa. Their temple was some the few where pilgrimages started across all of cards where people searched for the blessings of the fae a difficult and grand achievement most devout attempted to do. On one of her days caring for the temple and traveller fell in exhausted from days of travel, traversing the vast desert that made up most of jokers. Faziah took care of the traveller herself and found herself falling in love with him. His name was Gyasi Abebe, a joker native who was devout to the fae and had been following Imara’s teachings to almost a T who had decided that pilgrimage was his calling and wished to complete. The two bonded and fell in love over the time they spent together and Faziah feared he would not come back from his pilgrimage so did everything she could to prevent him from leaving. But in the end she let him go with him promising to come back to her.

Years went by and Faziah barely heard anything about her love or her sister who she both missed dearly. Her father passed and she became the king of jokers, the high priestess. Left alone to rule Jokers on her own with no support from the people she held close to her heart. 5 years passed when finally a worn down traveller came back into her temple looking for her. Gyasi had travelled to all five holy sites in cards but had only received 3 of the blessings but he did not care he wanted to be back with Faziah. The two became a couple ruled over Jokers together happily presiding over their temple and people.

As the years went by the couple was so focused on their kingdom and temple they spent all their energy on it. The priests of jokers started to grow impatient with the couple for not having children to succeed them, faziah even refusing to adopt. Soon even Gyasi got impatient as he had also wanted to start a family with her. But Faziah kept putting it off saying there was too much to do and her time needed to be focused on other things and by the time she was ready it was too late. Her body had already gone into menopause and she could no longer have children. Her priests and Gyasi tried to persuade her that they could still build a family with children they could adopt but she refused. She wanted her blood to carry on her families line, to keep protecting the artefacts her ancestors swore to do.

Faziah tried to search for alternative ways to have a child and then she remembered Imara. Her fae, the most rebellious and troublesome of all the fae who enjoyed hiding away in the mortal world. Imara loved to bestow wishes and curses onto mortals that either pleased them or annoyed them. Faziah rationalised that since she had been such a devoted follower that surely Imara would bless her with her desire to have a child. So she went looking for Imara.

Faziah travelled across Jokers looking for any information she could get in order to find Imara. It took her two years before she finally found the out of place cottage that sat on the desert dunes of jokers. When Faziah entered the home she was shocked to find her childish her fae truly was and not some mysterious all knowing creature she had assumed they were. Faziah begged Imara for a child that was from her and Imara promised to give her just that. But Imara explained they never gave wishes without a price. They wanted Faziah to give them a specific artefact that lay in the catacombs in her temple. They explained they had sent many mortals to fetch it for them but each time they had failed but now the king of jokers could get with no problem. Faziah hesitated but agreed. Imara plucked out her soul and ripped in half before placing half of into her womb and the other half back into her body before sending her away back to her temple.

Faziah got back safely with her new child growing within her, Gyasi overjoyed at finally having the family they both wanted and the priests pleased that there would be no confusion if Faziah were to die without an heir. They had a beautiful little girl who they named Kalila and they adored her. But Faziah hesitated getting what Imara wanted. She questioned in her mind why Imara even wanted the artefact in the first place and why if they need it so much could they not get it themself. The more she thought the more she realised that the catches weren’t meant to keep them from mortals but to keep out the Fae

Imara enraged from being denied what they were owed decided Faziah no longer got their wish and blessing but would receive a curse instead. Faziah only noticed the eyes watching her at first, with strange shadows following from here to there but when her sister’s body was discovered just outside the city, missing her eyes she knew she had lost imara’s favour, questioning if she even had it in the first place. She and Gyasi raised Kalila for nine years in peace until Gyasi was taken from her by a strong illness no one had seen before. Having gone blind and his eyes in excruciating pain until he died Faziah knew it had been the work of Imara and was well aware Imara would go after Kalila next.

Faziah was overly protective of Kalila growing up forbidding her from doing the most mundane things in fear she would be in danger. She did not even teach Kalila about Imara, though Faziah was still devout and zealous in her beliefs about Imara they had distorted into fear rather than reverence. Kalila never understood why her mother was over protective of her as Faziah never explained anything to her. It just made Kalila more adventurous trying to escape her other’s grasp. And in her many attempts to escape she ended up falling in the arms of a young merchant Yonas. He was young and handsome and had seen the world. He told her stories of grandeur and his travels and she fell instantly. However Faziah was not pleased. She tried her best to keep her daughter away from that ‘rapscallion’ but it only made Kalila more determined to be with him. In the end Faziah gave in but gave strict rules for Yonas to follow including not leaving the temple like her daughter.

Faziah carried on watching them fearing that one day Yonas would take her daughter away placing her in danger. But when the couple had their son Isaac she felt all her worries melt away as she fell in love with her grandson almost immediately. She finally felt she made it out and that Imara had finally left her and her family alone. But they hadn’t.

One night when Isaac was 4, Faziah peacefully in her bed when she heard the screams and cries of her grandson. She ran out of her room and there she found Kalila and Yonas dead in their bed, their eyes missing. All she could do was cry as she held her daughters body with Isaac clinging onto her.

Faziah had lost everyone she held dear and the only person she had left was her little grandson. She taught Isaac everything about the fae and imara, something she never did with Kalila and warned him never to trust them. That they weren’t to be worshipped but to be feared, to follow their rules and they would leave you alone. As she aged she grew and grew more paranoid and spread that paranoid to Isaac before leaving him alone with all this fear.

[mousy-nona]

Half My Soul (As the Poets Say) 1/?

They called him Menoetiades. They called him Patroclus. 

But he knew himself to be Alastor, in this incarnation and in every other. 

He was born a prince, among jewels and fur. Here is a little known secret: when a prince is born, he is born with a crown on his head. And even if someone were to throw the crown away, the boy does not forget the weight of it. 

A prince is always a prince. His city might cast him out, his father may strike him down and send him away, they could take his title, his wealth, his armies – but they would never be able to drain the blue blood flowing thick in his veins. 

And so when his father exiled him to Phthia (you’re a freak! An abomination of nature! I would rather be childless than have a killer for a son!) he went with his head held high. As if his crown still sat heavy in his blood-red hair. 

The only thing he’d said to his father before he had left was: no one cared when it was a servant boy. 

Menoetius had sneered, but when he turned away from Alastor, there was a glimmer of fear in his eye. Why? Because he feared a man who could kill a prince as easily as he could kill a farmer’s son? 

Phthia was rich in soil and boys. Alastor stared eagerly, drinking in the unfamiliar sights, his eyes open so wide they caught the sunlight there like rubies in firelight. His native land had been all shadows, darkness and fog for miles unending. Phthia, on the other hand, was drenched in sunlight. Everything was bright, even the palace itself. It was the home of a hero – the mighty King Peleus, blessed by the gods, who had known Heracles and Jason both – and the stories of his great feats were written in the mosaics on the wall. 

As a disgraced ex-prince and a known murderer, Alastor was given a tiny bunk in the darkest corner room, which he shared with six other boys. No matter. Within a week of Alastor’s too-sharp smiles and his jokes about accidentally slipping and falling in the dark as he twirled his knife, the other boys slunk away to sleep in the courtyard, the olive groves, the stables – and Alastor had a room for himself.

The next week he figured out why there were so many boys in Phthia. King Peleus was building himself an army. Every day and sometimes well into the night, they were forced to do drills, run sprints, fire arrows, and – his personal favorite – spar. Alastor found he was particularly skilled with the spear, the sharp point finding its target again and again and again until even his teachers looked a little pale at his deadly accuracy. 

He was the best – aside from one. 

Achilles.

The first time Alastor saw the Prince of Phthia he thought: so the gods are real after all. 

Then he thought: why is he so short?

Achilles was carved from sunlight and grace. He had one foot on the back of a man’s head and one of his arms in a death grip, and he made the awkward move look like a song. His every movement was fluid and quick, more water than man. 

But his golden skin, his golden hair, the golden tips of his tunic – that was all divine grace. 

Achilles was the son of a king, but he was also the son of the sea, and Alastor shivered at the echoes of Thetis’s power that shimmered just underneath his surface. Alastor’s mouth started watering. The power of a god…what did that feel like? What did it taste like?

He must have made a sound, because Achilles looked up then, and their gazes met. 

If Alastor had had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. Red eyes. Just like his own.

“What are you doing?” He asked, cocking his head as he watched Achilles twist the man’s arm as easily as someone might pop the cork from a wineskin. 

“Stopping a thief.” Achilles’s voice was soft, almost musical. “This man was taking from my father’s stores.” 

“Why don’t you kill him?”

Achilles shrugged. “He doesn’t deserve to die.” 

“You’ll let him get away?” Alastor snorted. “So he can tell all his friends back home that Phthia is an easy target?”

The man let out a muffled shout of protest, but was quickly silenced by Alastor’s glare. Achilles huffed. 

“They wouldn’t dare. These are my halls. They know who I am.” 

“If your reputation is so frightening, why was he able to break in?”

Achilles spluttered, that godly grace broken by human indignation. Alastor smirked.

“What would be your solution then, o’ wise one?” Achilles snorted.

The blur of the knife was too fast for any eye to follow. Anyone other than that of Achilles’, of course. He stepped backwards, smooth and easy, milliseconds before the sharp blade impaled itself in the man’s head. 

He glared at Alastor, and a thrill of pleasure went down Alastor’s spine. Pissing off the Prince was fun. “You could have hit me.” 

“But I didn’t.” His smile was sharp. “I had to test your famous reputation, didn’t I?”

Achilles scoffed, bent down, and picked up the dead thief. Even though the body was twice his size, he lifted him as if he weighed nothing at all. 

Alastor stepped into place next to him. “Where are you going now?”

He sniffed. “To place this man’s body in a shroud until his family can come for him.”

Alastor raised his brow, paused, then started cackling. 

“What?” Achilles lurched to a stop, exasperation painting his face. “What is it now?” 

“You really are as righteous as the stories say,” Alastor grinned amid peals of laughter. “Achilles.”

The Prince wrinkled his nose. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should I call you?” He started counting on his fingers. “Prince of Phthia? Son of Thetis? Aristos Achaion?” 

“Lucifer,” was his unexpected answer. 

“Lucifer,” Alastor purred. Even then, the first time he said his name, the word came out like a caress. It sounded right on his tongue.

“And yourself?” 

Alastor couldn’t tell if he was being polite, or if he actually did want to know. But when he answered him, he gave him his true name, and not the false one. “Alastor.” 

That was how he became Lucifer’s shadow; the darkness to his golden light. That was how the threads of the Fates started to spin. 

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (6)

The Funeral

As the Targaryen and Velaryon households gather on Driftmark to mourn the late Lady Laena, Arianwyn is anxious about meeting not only her half-sisters, but her father for the very first time.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: 😬

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Emrys let out a primal roar, the sound reverberating over the waters of Blackwater Bay. He huffed with agitation as he flew his rider toward Driftmark. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre flew ahead of them, the king’s ship sailing below. As dissatisfied as he was with their slow pace – a necessity to prevent them from arriving at their destination hours before the ship – it was the roiling emotions he sensed from his bond with Arianwyn driving him mad.

Arianwyn had not slept the night before, her mind and heart racing with anxiety about the coming day. Today, after more than ten years of total absence on his part, she would meet her father – Prince Daemon Targaryen.

As she tossed and turned in her bed, she considered each story she had ever been told about the man—the picture painted by one was often immediately contradicted by the next.

The man who rebuilt the city guard of King’s Landing, at last raising the capital from lawlessness. But he achieved this through unprecedented brutality; rumor claimed that on his first night as Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks, multiple carts were required to haul away dismembered limbs and extremities.

The man who defeated the Crabfeeder almost single-handedly, restoring Westerosi rule to the long-besieged region. But his triumphant victory came mere hours after he beat a young squire to death, apparently without remorse, for the crime of delivering a message from King Viserys.

The man who, according to most, heroically swept into the Vale to rescue his helpless damsel of a wife. Whose heroics were so great that his wife could not help but finally succumb to him, eschewing nine years of barren marriage.

But Arianwyn knew the truth.

Daemon had not saved his wife – he killed her.

For beneath all his outward charms, the Rogue Prince was a man of selfishness and cruelty. A man who all but abandoned his firstborn before she was even born when he refused the Dragonkeepers offer of an egg for her cradle. Only weeks after Rhea’s death, he flew across the sea to start a new family with a new wife. Years later, he sent grand proclamations back to Westeros announcing the births of Baela and Rhaena, along with formal requests that dragon eggs be sent for their cradles.

Arianwyn’s heart clenched painfully as she remembered another story she’d been told. Just after Rhaenyra was named King Viserys’ heir, Daemon fled King’s Landing for Dragonstone. Six months later, he snuck into the Dragonpit to steal an egg for the child his mistress – some whore from the Street of Silk – supposedly carried. Fortunately, the princess was able to retrieve the egg safely. And in the process, discovered that the purported pregnancy had never been real.

Daemon had done more for the theoretical bastard of a whore than he ever had for his real daughter.

For Arianwyn, his only act of fatherhood was the rape of her mother.

In the days preceding their departure for Driftmark, her Septa had instructed her on what to say and how to act when she met Daemon.

She would do none of it, she decided.

The man never once spared a thought for her. She would happily return the sentiment. Let him defame her as he did her mother or beg her forgiveness for all his sins. She would not care. She would give him naught but the same cold indifference he had shown her for ten years.

But despite her determination, Arianwyn had still shaken with trepidation when she went to mount Emrys that morning. The trip across the Blackwater would be long, leaving her alone with her anxious thoughts.

She tried to have Aemond ride with her so he could keep her mind on other things. Emrys even seemed excited when the prince climbed aboard the saddle. But alas, the queen moved hastily to forbid it, and Aemond was forced to sail with his parents aboard the ship. He was likely being sick at this very moment.

So Arianwyn rode alone, almost thankful for Emrys’ restlessness – guiding him in circles around the ship helped divert her mind from what would happen when they finally landed on the island that was coming into view.

Driftmark had no Dragonpit nor caves or tunnels for the beasts to nest in. Instead, Aegon, Helaena, and Arianwyn landed their dragons half a mile from the castle High Tide on a rocky cliff overlooking a beach. Moondancer, Caraxes, and Meleys were already there, perched on some of the larger boulders as they lay in the sun.

The dragonriders were met by a small number of Velaryon guards, who quickly escorted them to a carriage sent to take them to the castle itself. The path they took was treacherous, winding uncomfortably close to the edge of the island’s cliffs. Each time the horses came too close to the sheer drops, Helaena would gasp, squeezing her eyes shut as she turned from the carriage windows.

Aegon scoffed, “You are a dragonrider, sister. Surely, a mere cliff should not scare you.” In the days since their betrothal was announced, his attitude toward his sister had soured. He no longer ignored her more peculiar tendencies, but seemed to take each as a personal insult.

Arianwyn was utterly exhausted by him. “The drop may be short, cousin,” she said, “but you forget that our carriage does not have wings.”

The prince huffed, blustering to find a witty response, but neither of the girls in the carriage paid any mind to his grumbling as they continued on to the castle.

By the time they arrived in the courtyard, the party from the ship had disembarked. Viserys, already visibly tired from the trip, sat in a cushioned chair servants had brought out for him. Lord Corlys stood before him, deep in hushed conversation with the king. Alicent and Rhaenys stood to the side, engrossed in their own discussion. Aemond stood by himself, leaning against a stone wall.

Daemon was nowhere to be seen. Neither were Baela, Rhaena, or Princess Rhaenyra and her children. But it wasn’t the idea of meeting them that had Arianwyn’s heart racing.

Reminding herself again that she did not care about her father, Arianwyn walked with her cousins as they joined the rest of her family.

At the funeral, Arianwyn stood not with her father and half-sisters, but with the King and Queen.

It made sense, she told herself. She had never met Lady Laena. It was not her place to mourn the woman alongside those who had known and loved her. But still, she noted the stares from the gathered nobility on the cliffs above them, and their questioning whispers about why she was not with her father or sisters.

She took comfort in the fact that those whispers were quiet. At least, they were compared to those of Rhaenyra’s children.

They, too, had never met Laena. But still, they wept. It had only been days since Harwin Strong’s gruesome demise. Their tears were interpreted by many as those of sons mourning their father, serving only to confirm their long-held suspicions of their parentage.

Arianwyn pitied them. Ser Harwin had always been kind to them, bringing them gifts from the docks of King’s Landing and training with them in the castle’s yard. He would be dearly missed. Besides, she would have happily switched places with them, exchanging a loving bastard father for an absent, true one.

As the Maester spoke, Arianwyn watched her father. She could find nothing of herself in his face. She had always been praised for the softness of her features; Daemon was all sharp angles and straight lines. His mouth was small, whereas hers was plump. His nose was large and straight, while hers was small and curved upward slightly. The only similarity lay in the color of their hair, but where his fell straight as bone, hers curled in wild, elegant wisps around her face.

She, at last, turned away when the Maester finished his prayers. Vaemond Velaryon stepped toward the coffin as soldiers of his house began to fasten ropes to the steel anchors embedded in the stone.

He spoke in High Valyrian. “Tubī Velario Lentro Ābrāzme Laene iēdrarta mōrqittot, māzīlarē tubirri Elēdrion ziry umīsilza luo dāriot, hannagon Embrurliot gierūlti.”

Arianwyn looked at her half-sisters. Baela leaned against her grandmother, Rhaenys, while Rhaena stood beside them, fists clenched at her sides. They, too, looked little like their father. From the sweetness of their faces, Arianwyn imagined that her stepmother had been very beautiful indeed.

Vaemond continued. “Solion tolijor zijosy pradarose, Ābrāzma Laena rāeniot hen eglio ilvot lanto taloti hembis. Pōja muña hen zȳho solio āmāzīlus daor, yn ānogrosa gierī ozletaksi humbilza. Velario ānogro rȳ lopor ojāris. Īlvon qumblī iāris. Īlvon drējī iāris. Se dōrī vajiñagon īlvon bēvilis.”

Daemon laughed then. A light, blithe chuckle – wholly out a place at such a solemn occasion. All in attendance turned their attention to him, even those who had been closely watching Princess Rhaenyra.

Arianwyn’s blood ran cold. As Vaemond had said those pointed words, “Īlvon qumblī iāris. Īlvon drējī iāris. Se dōrī vajiñagon īlvon bēvilis,” Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin. Daemon had not been looking at Rhaenyra. Nor his wife’s coffin, nor even his daughters by his side. As those words were spoken, he laid his eyes on Arianwyn for the first time in her life.

And he laughed.

That afternoon, amongst the solemnity of the funeral reception, Arianwyn was seething with unquenchable rage. She knew she might face indifference from her father but had also entertained other possibilities. He may have taunted her as he did her mother or insisted she was a bastard. She had even thought that he might seek forgiveness for his years of neglect, repentant now that he had lost another wife.

Never once had she considered that he might find her laughable. Indeed, as he walked past her after the coffin had been lowered into the sea, an amused grin quirked on his face, though he did not turn his eyes to her. Nor had he approached her since.

Instead, Arianwyn sat with Helaena on the far end of the balcony, watching her cousin gently turn over a large spider in her hands as she recited words that seemed to have no meaning. She wanted to grab the spider and crush it in her hands just so she could make something hurt in the same way she did.

But she did not. Doing so would hurt not only the spider but Helaena as well. Arianwyn could never do that. So, she sat on the cool stone, anger crackling through her veins like lightning.

She knew Aemond was a few feet away, watching Helaena as well. But he did not approach, not even after Aegon left to chase after one of the servant girls. She wished he would. That he would say something – anything to make her feel better. But silence was his way. He would simply remain by her side as long as she needed him, as she had done for him countless times.

It was Princess Rhaenys who finally rescued her from her thoughts – and the presence of the spider. “Come, girl,” she said, her voice raw from days of weeping for her daughter. “It is high time you meet your sisters.” The Queen Who Never Was led Arianwyn carefully through the crowd, Aemond following discreetly behind them.

Baela and Rhaena sat on the other side of the balcony, hands entwined, on a stone bench and talked with Jace. Arianwyn instinctively dropped her gaze as they approached.

“Girls,” Rhaenys whispered, kneeling before her granddaughters, “I would like you to meet Arianwyn, your sister.”

Both girls’ eyes, brimming with tears, lifted to look at Arianwyn. She stood still and silent as they examined her, searching for familiarity in her face. Finding none, they mustered what smiles they could and murmured a greeting.

Arianwyn returned the smile, “You have my sympathies for the loss of your mother. I regret that I was never able to meet her.”

Rhaena nodded. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”

“Me too,” Arianwyn answered.

Baela tried to respond but only gave in to her tears, her sister following swiftly behind. She and Rhaena fell into their grandmother’s arms, sobbing. “I don’t want Mother to be gone,” she cried.

Sensing that pressing the introduction further would only be unkind to the girls, Arianwyn dipped her head in place of a farewell and walked away, mourning that her first meeting with her sisters required such a tragedy.

When she turned, she saw Aemond standing across a brazier from Jace. The corner of his mouth turned up as if he were about to speak, but he said nothing. Rather he nodded and turned away from his nephew.

“What did he say to you?” Arianwyn whispered as she took his arm and led him away, her protective instincts rising like the hackles of a threatened beast. Before he had left the Red Keep, Jace had begun to taunt Aemond even without Aegon present to egg him on.

Aemond shook his head. “He said nothing. I was going to offer my condolences for Ser Harwin, but I couldn’t think of how to say it without… you know.”

Arianwyn smiled, at last feeling her anger begin to subside. “That was very kind of you.”

Aemond had only just squeezed her arm when Alicent approached them. Her face was grave.

“Come with me, Aria,” the Queen said, her hand extended. “Your father is waiting to meet you.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

Unicron softening up because he wanted to have/had bond with Primus at one point and now the roommates he didn't want but now is stuck with? Found family trope at it again, he eventually starts telling stories from his travels..And they bond but Is he going to be dramatic about it? Absolutely (humans have their dramatics from someone after all)

Just the two weaponizing feelings to domesticate him

Unicron: You're killing me. Are you proud of that?

Earth,Moon: Love you too

Unicron: Urk! Stop!

"Father, will you tell me a story?"

Earth asked him for stories from the moment she came into being. Unicron denied her at first. He saw no need to waste his time with a parasite that was quickly spreading to wrap around him like a series of chains.

"Father, look at what I've made!"

And yet, as time passed, Earth still called out for him. She showed him her creations, some of which were more successful than others. He couldn't help but remark and accidentally find himself sharing memories of his journeys with her. She never asked about Primus. She was wise enough to refrain.

"I despise you with every fiber of my being, but you keep my dear Earth alive. For that, I will tolerate you."

Moon was an interesting addition to his prison cell. The Cybertronian Titan had a designation, but when Earth called out to him in her native tongue, he accepted the offered name without complaint. It reminded Unicron of the times he and his brother spent visiting budding civilizations, teaching them to speak and helping them in their struggle to survive.

"You haven't killed her yet. Why?"

Moon was always in his business, constantly prodding and questioning. Despite his hatred for Primus's creations, he understood Moon. The Titan was bored but too loyal to leave now that Earth had come to rely so heavily upon him. Unicron rarely answered his questions, often only making commentary. But Moon became a constant, one that Unicron came to cherish. He appreciated the chance to word spar with someone who wouldn't immediately roll over like Earth.

"It is none of your concern Primus spawn."

He didn't like to think about possibly tearing free of his prison after Moon settled. He told himself it was because Moon would kill him if he ever did, but deep in his spark, he knew it was due to another far more intimidating reason. He refused to match his brother. He couldn't allow himself to fall.

"Father, do you think my children will be as mighty as Uncle's one day?"

Earth asked him about her youngest children, the ones she called "humans". Unicron had long ago thrown the idea of killing Earth out the window. He couldn't end her, not when she basked him in adoration even as she took vitality from him to fuel her own growth. He never informed her that it was because of her feeding that he remained too weak to wake. He knew she would gladly starve herself if he asked. He didn't want to give his wrathful spark a reason to make the request.

"Perhaps. Primus's children are made of steel and starlight. They do not wither, they do not die, not as your children do. If these creatures you call your own are meant to thrive, they will have to overcome the weakness of their flesh."

The first time he offered her any true commentary, he found himself wrapped so tightly in her love that he almost found his spark constricting in its chamber. It was so similar and yet so different from the love he and his brother once shared. Primus and him were bound in spark. Their love was perfect and yet broken. They knew each other better than any other, and yet they could hardly comprehend the other. Earth's adoration was that of an awe filled child, a gleeful storm dancing upon the edge of the sea, so strong and yet so very innocent. He could not help but grow to adore her in turn.

"Father, would you tell us of the stars?"

Millions of years after the first time he denied Earth's request for a story, Unicron found himself sighing. He looked upon the world Earth had forged. He felt the organic growths that grew high into forests and mountain peaks. He sensed the creatures roaming along fertile soil and through clean water. He listened to the laughter of children, eager and hopeful like the daughter that now desired his attention. He looked upon it all and knew he no longer had the spark to deny her.

"Before our battle across the stars, Primus and I traversed all of creation as one. My memory is faint, but we saw many a civilization..."

Earth and her guardian listened closely, and as Unicron told his tale, he found his wrath ease into something akin to peace. One day there would come a time when he would need to act. But for now, for a few blessed moments, he would allow himself a moment to pretend that his brother did not yet live. He could pretend that all was well. There was no need to wake yet. He could wait. He could be patient. He would endure for as long as required. Primus wasn't going anywhere, and his children were nowhere to be seen. Unicron had time, and he intended to spend it wisely.