#a son whose only want was his father's attention.

[crayonverse]

i need to mkae. m y own gacha react video so i cant stop being so sick and evil abut ein because noone gets him right . ramble in tags ok ay byteee

[siscon-stsg]

hi, feral Satoru is jealous of his mom from his father and fucks her to remind her whom she belongs to <33

(CW: inc*st, toru is jellyyyyy. very jelly. a bit toxic actually. obsessed even!! nt* i guess? is it nt* or just cheating? idk. D*B/CON. mommy k*nk. whiney toru as always. is this ex*ibitio*ism? facef*ck*ng...literally; satoru mounts reader's face JKAJAK. ed*ing, tea*ing, overs*im, marking/hickeys, p*ssydrunk toru, creampie, implied br**ding k*nk, )

EDIT: SHIT I JUST REALIZED YOU SAID "FERAL" NAUURRR. Imma write one with feral Satoru for you baby, I'm sorry!! (this is why you don't write when you're tired bois)

ANON YOUR BRAIN ANON. YOU'RE SO----- are you a kenjaku kinnie? cuz all i see is one big brain i can make out with /jjk rizz/ ~BLOSSOM

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who loves you lots. probably way more than a son should love his mom but whatever, right? it's not like he's done anything weird yet! he's just be a tad more clingy than the usual man is to his mother but that's okay!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who's always tried everything to get your attention on him him him, only him. he's your pretty boy, right? the only one you should look at and love cuz no one is going to be better than him anyway!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who has the attention of all the clan, the girls and boys he could ask for. but none of them are you, his mama.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who hates when you have to attend clan matters that involve other men. he hates when you give attention to other men, period!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who saw, one night, how is father was with you on the kitchen after dinner. his father rubbed your hip, mumbled something to you that made you chuckle bashfully, and gave you a cheeky little squeeze before leaving the room.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU whose temper flared and he realized this couldn't go on any longer, he wouldn't let him steal away his mama's attention anymore!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who waits until you're asleep, then sneaks into your room at night.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who wakes you up with soft kissies and whispers. who caresses you with all the love and attention and praise he'd never give any other human being. he searches every soft spot, every place that gets you squirmy, hot and bothered before he's even slid his hands under your clothes.

“mamaaa, wake up,” he'd mumble, pressing slow kisses right under your ear that got you gasping. his hips made a faint rustling sound as he ground them against your clothed heat, already hard and staining his pjs. “i need youuu...!”

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who'd stroke his cock over your face, straddling your chest and cornering your head against the pillow. who'd rub the leaky tip all over your cheeks and lips, choking on his breath to not wake up his dad sleeping next to you.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who uses your face to get off. keeping a heavy but gentle hand on your scalp, rubbing his throbbing dick against you with slow sways of his hips.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who says: “m-mommy, isn't my cock the prettiest? much prettier than his?”

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who makes himself jealous just thinking about you and his dad being together, and gives you a few smack smack smack slaps on your cheek with his weeping cock that make him whimper more than you.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who makes you bury your moans in the pillow as he mounts you from behind.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who whimpers in your ear. his arms tremble as he holds you by the waist, snug and tight against his chest, hips moving in an excruciatingly slow pace.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who ends up edging and teasing himself, because he wants to fuck you so hard until you scream but his stupid dad is next to you. he steals glances now and then just to make sure he's still asleep, sometimes giving in and thrusting with enough force to make you jump on the bed a bit.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who growls from having to hold himself back, whose sweaty, toned chest presses against your arched back and makes you shiver.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who feels his ego rise to a thousand when you're melting like goo underneath him: drooling and eye-rolling on his cock that touches your sweet spots so good because it touches everything.

“y'r mine, mama, mine!” he mumbles, muffling his moans into the skin of your neck he sucks and nips on without a care in the world.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who doesn't think your relationship with his dad is even worth hiding the hickeys he's leaving on your skin. you'd be much better with him anyways!

“aww, mommy looks s'cute! you're drooling all over the pillow,” he'd tease into your ear. “y'won' wan' no one's cock 'ver again, right? right, mama? jus' me? me, me, me?”

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who quickens the pace just enough to where he can't stop moaning, and he has to bite your shoulder gently but consistently not to moan out loud.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who doesn't shut up as his orgasm approaches.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who's a babbling, incoherent mess, pussy-drunk so hard he doesn't even care if your squelching is too loud or if his pelvis makes too much noise when bashing against your ass.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who cums so much it's a wet, creamy, liquid mess on the sheets. who stays glued to you, grinding his hips as he just keeps moaning into your ear, like his orgasm just wouldn't stop peaking.

“mommy so good... m-mommy's all mine... won't share, not my pussy...” he'd say, sneaking a hand underneath you to rub meaningfully at your tummy.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU whose breath hitches when he hears a faint, groggy grunt of your name from the other side of the bed.

[siderealcity]

So, one of the things I love about Dawntrail is the way the four competitors are introduced and framed.

Spoilers ahead.

We meet Wuk Lamat first. She's the reason we're here. But we'll come back to her.

So then, Zoraal Ja. He doesn't speak a single word throughout his first appearance. Even when approached, the first, and only, thing he does is tell his lackey to talk for him.

Look at what Erenville says about him when he exits the palace to the cheering of the crowd:

Erenville: Zoraal Ja. The First Promise and commander of the Landsguard. Sareel Ja, the palace seer. As he was so careful to remind the crowd, Zoraal Ja is indeed the natural child of Gulool Ja Ja. Alphinaud: And “Resilient Son”? Is that another title, like the First Promise? Erenville: After a fashion. Common knowledge has it that two-headed Mamool Ja cannot sire children… Yet Zoraal Ja was born all the same, with the Head of Resolve's features and the Head of Reason's scales─an extraordinary example of life's unyielding resilience. Alisaie: And a warrior's reticence. He says little, but the way he moves… I know a hardened soldier when I see one. Erenville: He's a natural swordsman─a gift he inherited from his father. Some even say that the son has already surpassed the sire. Should he come to power, the First Promise means to employ that martial prowess in the conquest of foreign lands. For this, he and his supporters have been labeled expansionists. This puts him in direct opposition to Wuk Lamat, who advocates for the preservation of peace. You may recall that she spoke of a claimant who “cannot be allowed to rule.” That is Zoraal Ja─the warmonger.

Zoraal Ja is clearly framed as the favorite by all of Tural to win the contest, but look at how Erenville describes him. Every compliment is instantly returned to his father. He's the Resilient Son, whose impossible birth was a miracle only Gulool Ja Ja could have managed. Look, see how much he resembles both his fathers. His sword skills are great--he inherited them from his father.

He resents his siblings because they, being adopted, are granted nothing by nature. Everything they get from their father is learned. Not innate. Koana's studies and Wuk Lamat's people skills are theirs. He doesn't see Bakool Ja Ja as a threat because they're too similar. All that makes both of them special came from their parents. But Koana, he sees as a threat or a useful tool. Koana has been recognized for what he's done on his own.

He's the perfect example of the pressures of the first-born child, even though we never get the impression that his father puts any pressure on him at all. It's the public who puts the full weight of their expectations on him, purely for a quirk of birth. Everything's expected of him, but if he succeeds it's not because of him, but because he's his father's son. Which is maybe why he refuses to engage with the people at all.

That's… going to come back to haunt us all later.

Then there's Koana. When Bakool Ja Ja insults his older brother, whom he desperately does not want to win this contest, he immediately jumps to Zoraal Ja's defense. The supporters who approach him don't have anything to say about him at all, they just want cool stuff. Bring us trains and airships and magitek doodads! He escapes from them as awkwardly as humanly possible. And note how differently Erenville describes him:

Erenville: Here we have Koana, the Second Promise, who spent time as a pupil at Sharlayan's own Studium. Alisaie: Now that you mention it, I think I did see him in the halls once or twice. There was nothing to suggest he was Turali, much less from a royal family. Erenville: That was by design. He forewent his usual garb and took an Eorzean name to avoid attention. Alphinaud: So it was Koana who introduced the dirigibles. And the railway, too, given what we just heard…? Erenville: In furtherance of his goal: to enrich Tuliyollal with every bright notion he learned of in Sharlayan. He is the hope of those who prize innovation. As aloof as he may seem, Koana and Wuk Lamat actually get along rather well. They bicker and banter as only close siblings do.

He was a student at the Studium, but we don't hear of any other achievements there. No graduating with honors. No inventions of his own. His accomplishments are mostly… being a royal, and therefore in a position to get other people's ideas implemented in Tural. And he seems to feel that. He doesn't want to be noticed, doesn't want to be lauded, won't take the encouragement of his followers, and doesn't promise them anything because he doesn't feel like he can.

He is very much caught in the middle all the time.

Between his love for his brother, who doesn't love him back, and whom he knows can't be allowed to rule, and his sense of duty to his nation. Between his feelings of inadequacy and his fear of failure. Between Tural and Sharlayan. Between his beloved baby sister and the contest that makes them rivals. Between his ideals and reality.

Perfect middle child.

Then we get Bakool Ja Ja. The outsider.

We know from the Dawnservant's introduction of the rite that historically only two-headed mamool ja were allowed to rule. He is set up, then, as the symbol of the old order.

And the moment he steps outside, the crowd goes wild.

He isn't the Dawnservant's son, but he is, as far as most of those onlookers are concerned, the next Gulool Ja Ja. The person who reacts most negatively to his appearance and bravado, tellingly, is a boonewa. A member of one of the clans that actually makes blessed siblings. That's… that's going to be meaningful later. Unlike the two claimants who preceded him, nobody asks him for anything. His supporters don't support him because they think he can help them. They support him because of what he is.

Erenville's description of him is notably brief:

Erenville: The chosen of Mamook, Bakool Ja Ja. Winner of the recent martial tournament, and the only claimant not of the Dawn's Promise. His strength is undeniable, but…you see how he is. A few devoted Mamool Ja are his only supporters. Krile: What would he do with the throne should he win it? Erenville: His policies and so forth? I doubt he's thought much beyond winning the contest itself. But one thing seems certain: if he does become Dawnservant, he will see the Mamool Ja exalted as the ruling class, and all others forced into subservience.

And yet… he's not the one Wuk Lamat was afraid of winning. Which is somewhat prophetic foreshadowing, really. Bakool Ja Ja is the only claimant who has no thoughts of the future. He has to win this contest because he exists. That's it. That's all there is.

He has to win because blessed siblings always win. If they don't… then why should they even exist?

That's… yeah.

And finally, Wuk Lamat emerges from the palace. With her mom.

If it wasn't clear before that she's the baby of the family, the fact that she makes her grand public appearance as a contender for the throne with her nursemaid should be a clue.

We have, at the moment that Erenville asks if we're sure we really want to be part of this, so far seen her wander off distracted in Sharlayan, get panicked by a talking bird, eat her weight in barbequed monster, and get extremely seasick. The one thing we know she wants out of this contest is to stop Zoraal Ja from starting a war the second he takes the throne. She is doing this, not because she wants power or has a vision for Tural, but because she opposes a bad vision.

She is so much the underdog in this contest that most of the crowd left before she appeared, assuming the show was over, and what's remaining is standing within earshot gossipping about how pathetic she is compared to the others.

Wuk Lamat is constantly in someone else's shadow. Her father. Her elder brothers. That random guy who got in here somehow. Sphene, when we get to Alexandria. She's invisible, and she seems to feel like that's just how things work. Even the soldiers who meet us at the docks need to take a minute before they realize who she is.

Erenville doesn't say anything about her, though he has a few words about how her supporters are mostly the elderly who remember the war. (I would imagine that includes a lot of non-elderly shetona, too.) But he doesn't really have to talk her up. The Reigning King of Dry Understatement may have insisted back in Sharlayan that they are not friends, merely long-standing acquaintances, but when she asked him for advice about finding allies for the contest, he recommended a god-slayer. Talk about fixing the fight. Not just recommended, he dropped what he was doing and went back across the ocean to recruit them. He could have pointed her at the Students of Baldesion. He was working with them already. Instead, he came back to Sharlayan and asked the Students to go get WoL. A person he knows is capable of crossing the entire universe to avert the apocalypse and also, for some reason, stopping to catch stray marmots along the way. He really wants her win. He just won't quite say that out loud.

"As you just witnessed, Wuk Lamat has no great army of supporters. Not yet, at least." Oh, Erenville.

[yaoyaobae]

Its been awhile and i have another OC to share LOL gotta draw brain rots instead of keeping them in your head forever ☺️💖

Name: Aurore Dormir

School: Royal Sword Academy

Pastime: Escaping school to wander in the nearby forest, spending time alone

Hobbies: Sightseeing, Gardening, Fencing.

Family: Father, Mother , *Brother ( silver, please refer to the last note regarding my own theory)

Aurore is a third year student at RSA, currently house warden of the sleeping beauty inspired dorm.

Aurore is also the next king of the Kingdom of Heroes, which naturally made him the center of attention in RSA.

Unlike Malleus whose powerful aura pushes people away from him, Aurore draws people towards him as they feel a sense of security around him.

He was only recently enrolled into school during his second year as his family brought him back from isolation for training, far away from the world’s eyes.

At first glance, Aurore may seem like the ideal dream prince: Kind, Polite, Courageous, Strong and Smart as he is consistent in securing top grades across his cohort. But deep down, he isn’t exactly the perfect prince most of his peers think he is.

Aurore is actually afraid of strangers and overwhelming attention ( he was raised in isolation so meeting humans are.. yeah) He is skilled at hiding his weakness but starts blanking out if there are too many people crowding around him.

As a result, he finds happiness in spending time alone in places where no one recognises him. He usually takes a short stroll around Sage Island’s various forests when his caretakers aren’t looking.

Strangely, Aurore mentions that his enjoyment from lonely strolls only existed because he would suddenly find himself in unknown places as a child…as if something or someone was calling him. But he became mentally stronger as he got older and knows how to guard himself during his impromptu walks.

Bonus personal theory/lore:

Hi! So if you have been following me since i started creating twst ocs, you would be familiar with a certain comic i drew for an Aurora Oc ( its not exactly Aurore because i didn’t flesh him out) . But to sum up my theory for that comic:

There was once a powerful kingdom that clashed with briar valley, humans and fae did not get along as well back then.

Somewhere in between the war, both of the queen’s sons were cursed by a powerful magician and separated at birth. The queen initially wanted to send her two sons far away from the castle, but only managed to send one tucked away in a casket that drifted on a hidden river which led to a forest.

The war ended a few days later, with both fae and humans forming a truce. The queen fell into depression after realising that her second son probably did not make it and blamed herself for not keeping him a little longer had she known he would have been safe and alive in her arms.

Time heals wounds, and with some reassurance from the King the Queen got back up on her feet stronger for the sake of her people. Of course, sometimes the servants would catch a glimpse of the lonely Queen staring into the far forests wondering if she will ever see those small pair of Aurora coloured eyes again.

Because the Queen conceived her two sons alone away from the servants, only she and the King were aware of their other missing son. The three fairy advisors who had protected them from the very start told the Queen that if word of two cursed princes were to spread, the kingdom would be doomed to fall . The Queen had no choice but to accept this decision, and so they entrusted their only son to the three fairies in case the curse within him acts up. Hence Aurore was raised in isolation away from the world’s attention and only enrolled in his second year to prevent the curse from possibly manifesting.

In this story I created Silver is the missing prince in question who drifted far into the forest and eventually picked up by Lilia. His only proof of his royal status is a ring with an aurora coloured gem (Book 7 mention).

Regarding the curse: Silver was cursed to feel drowsy all the time while Aurore was cursed to follow a voice in his head which leads him to sleepwalk into dangerous places alone. Silver’s hair colour reminds me of the spindle/needle, so in a way he contains the sleeping curse. Like Aurora, Aurore is drawn into strange places by a voice and eventually to the spindle. Hence these two will always feel an unfamiliar sense of closeness to each other.

“Yao why do you think Silver would have a brother? Much less the RSA guy inspired by Aurora? Doesn’t Silver already have Aurora’s traits?”

In general this is just my own fun theory to think about, but my reasons are because i think it would be interesting if Silver canonically had living family member(s) from a royal family( that ring kinda tells all). It would also put him in place wondering if he should return to his biological human family or stay with his Briar Valley family as he feels a stronger bond with them. With the way TWST tackles issues about fae/human like Sebek from example, i would love to see Silver’s resolve for his found family.

In my old comic, the Aurora OC actually dislikes Fae because of the war. He especially hates Lilia because he believed the war criminal took his own brother away and is promoting peace despite his past.

I feel Aurore would dislike Lilia but eventually learns to see the war from both sides as humans aren’t all that great either, he is still a naive prince with much to learn about the world. So while Silver does have Aurora’s trait, Aurore may have some of King Stefan’s from Maleficent/OG film. TWST tends to combine diff character traits anyways🌝👍

Anyways I adore these two so much and am looking forward to Silver’s past in the future updates! Thank you for reading about Aurore, till next time 💖

[cdragons]

"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

[greenqueenhightower]

Thoughts on the Larys x Aegon Scene in 2x06:

"He executes justice for the fatherless child and the widow."—Deuteronomy 10:18

Larys visits Aegon as he lies on his bed, healing from his injuries. Aegon is most eager to cloud his mind with milk of the poppy, just as his father had done. As he is handed the vial with the drug, Larys assumes the authority of a family member entrusted with Aegon's care. He purposely withholds the drug from Aegon, to instruct him. He wants to instill in him the conviction that he only has his mind to depend on now. Aegon's mind should be sacred to him, just as it is for Larys.

"You have already written yourself into legend. You have survived dragonfire." Larys begins to bore through Aegon's mind. He is not a mere mortal man. He is a legend. Despite his trembling and silent cowering at the sight of his brother, Aegon should not feel completely wasted.

"I came screaming into this world." Larys breaks the news of the extent of his injuries to Aegon. The young King's distraught and mutilated state stirs up something inside him, something that Larys has long kept shut. In response, he does something remarkable; something we've never seen Larys do before: he becomes vulnerable.

"My lungs were strong but my foot so twisted that my father named it sorcery." Breathing heavily, Larys reveals that he, too, was shunned by his father since birth. His deformity was something that Lyonel Strong never came to accept just as Viserys never accepted Aegon as his son and heir. Larys' fate is akin to that of his King. Aegon's grunts of pain stop and he fixes his attention on Larys.

"They will stare at you... or turn away." Aegon and Larys cry together, the wounds of both exposed bare. Larys lets Aegon in on his inner trauma of being despised and disposed of because of his disability. Does Larys fear that Aegon might suffer the same fate by his family? Does he empathize with Aegon's pain because he sees himself in him? Does he want to prepare him for or shield him from the cruel world?

"They will underestimate you... and this will be your advantage." Larys' face hardens as he reveals the bitter truth. Aegon musters up whatever courage he has to exclaim "No!" and shake his head in disbelief.

"Help me. Please." Larys warns Aegon that his life is in danger and he begs for his help. Aegon has come to trust Larys with his life. Has he found an ally and a friend in him? He now wants Larys to protect him. He turns to him like a refuge in a storm. He knows he can depend on him. Like a child pleading with his father, Aegon's eyes plead with Larys.

Larys responds with his determined face and trademark smirk. What will he do to protect his King? One thing is certain: Larys is a ruthless executioner of justice. He has killed his own family, whose eyes so wickedly and hatefully stared at him, for all the injustices inflicted on him. He has tortured and killed all those who betrayed his trust. He is bound to be equally merciless with those who dare touch or thus dehumanize Aegon. Larys assumes the role of father and protector for Aegon, ready to execute his own version of justice for what he cares about.

And apart from himself, Larys has shown that the only other soul he cares to avenge is Aegon.

[bluesylveon2]

The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones. 

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after." 

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad. 

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed. 

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think. 

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her. 

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver. 

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her. 

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them. 

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.  

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten. 

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan. 

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence. 

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding. 

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls. 

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush. 

"I think he was exaggerating." 

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up. 

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down. 

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer. 

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him. 

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out. 

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know. 

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull. 

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp. 

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him." 

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent. 

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs. 

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry. 

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes." 

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there." 

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it. 

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them. 

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright. 

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room. 

"So, Yuu, can you cook?" 

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy. 

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile. 

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness. 

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[shirefantasies]

How Many Kids Do They Want? LoTR Edition

This is just a headcanon set I like to think about because I love little ones & think all of the characters would make great parents in their own way 🥰 I definitely am going to expand on this in the future but for now enjoy!

Aragorn

He wants to bring a life into the world, but only under good circumstances. When the time comes, he favors a small family he can focus on- one child is enough for him. As much attention as he can possibly give goes to his little one that way, no resentment, no competition, all of the time in Aragorn’s world to spend with those dearest. Despite the pressure to have a son, he is happy to have either a son or a daughter as long as they are happy and healthy and provided for. Aragorn’s child will grow up with an amazing guide to do what is right and care for their friends and family, not to mention learning Elvish and many skills to survive outdoors if need ever arises.

Legolas

Open-minded for sure, but I think he actually leans toward a larger family. No extreme amount, but four or five sounds good to him! Legolas is very caring, patient, and even has a playful side that all lend well to spending time with wee ones. No strong preference on sons or daughters, Legolas cares more for smiling faces and fair hearts. He pretends to be competitive with his children to motivate them, but always caves and lets them win in the end! They’ll all become amazing archers if he has anything to say about it.

Boromir

Having a big family warms Boromir's heart. He wants to be different from his father, carve out space for each and every child individually. Having a big family shows in his mind how much he loves his spouse and can provide for everyone, too. Boromir is definitely the type of dad whose children just come barreling toward the door upon his return home, rocketing into his arms as he manages to catch them all! If you ask him, Boromir's ideal family size would be four or five children. He loves the idea of having a son or sons to train up, but really doesn't want to miss out on having beautiful daughters too, so his hope is for a mix of both. Constantly encouraging his sons and praising every achievement at their passions. The girls are ladies of Gondor and nothing shall take that from them, least of all their father, who is always joining their tea parties and letting them take turns as queens knighting him and each other.

Gimli

Dwarves tend to have smaller families, whether that is by choice or happenstance. Gimli enjoys the idea of having three children, a moderate amount, and of course he really would love a son. He wants a mini-me as they say, a small reflection of himself to share all his favorite things with and teach to defend all that is important to him. Daughters are less common among his people, thus of course they are of great value and would be a blessing were he to have any as well. Gimli would constantly be hyping them up and reminding them that they are worth so much, any man in their life had better treat them so or else!

Frodo

If he were to have children, Frodo favors a smaller family. Growing up, it was just him and his uncle for as long as he remembered, and he likes the idea of being able to focus more on his child. Thus, his perfect family size if you ask is simply one or two children. In his mind there’s something about having a son, perhaps a mirror to his own youth or someone to impart his lessons into in the sense that feels most traditional to his family dynamic, but the idea of having one of each makes him so happy- Frodo’s little girl would have him wrapped around her finger!

Sam

I know I said at one point Sam only wants like three but that’s because I didn’t realize he canonically has so many forgive me. We all know Sam loves the idea of having a big family! Canonically he’s even down to have thirteen children, but of course he is fine with a smaller number too. Just definitely more than one, at least three or four. Sam has so much love to give and he adores bringing life into the world and nurturing it more than anything. Every little one is their own unique person he loves to foster and dote on. He wants some of each of course, but just loves the idea of having little girls especially!

Merry

Really wants one of each. His family will feel like a full package that way and he wants every type of experience he can have, walking a daughter down to her wedding and letting her dress him up and playing games with his son. Teaching both of them how to stand up and fight for themselves, of course! Merry is so the type who wants a mini version of both him and his spouse if he can have it. Would make so many jokes about the little clones and just melt for the child who looks like his partner. Regardless of who she looks like, his little girl has his exact smile and you'll always catch them making it at each other before the next moment of teasing and mischief!

Pippin

Wants so many kids. Five to ten, no problem. Numbers aren’t his concern so long as he can be involved with each and every one of them. Just the type who wants his family to be a small army! Definitely wants to experience having sons and daughters, but statistically he’s going to anyway at his rate! So good at getting down to their level and having the greatest time with them, but also showering them with love and calming words and learning their needs by actually listening. Just Pippin and his little army of fellow neurodivergent sweethearts all with different passions and gifts and special interests.

Faramir

Willing to concede to his partner especially if that’s who actually bears the children. Faramir adores the idea of having a family, of doing everything differently than he experienced, of pouring true love and respect into a little soul doing their best, and that is where his happiness truly lies. A part of him likes the idea of having two sons as full atonement for his and Boromir’s difficult childhood, but even one would make him happy. He is so patient at explaining things to a young mind and his optimism comes out all the more when spending time with a little one- all the world’s beauty is that much brighter!

Eomer

Big family! More than a number he dreams of a boisterous, active home where no one is ever lonely. A warm hearth and the voices of children nearly ever-present. His heart swells as he imagines having one in each hand and plenty more all around him. Eomer, for whatever reason, has the number six in his head. Of course he wants sons, sons to train as fine riders and fighters, but his sister has proved to him that that future is not lost on Rohan’s maid either. He would be so much softer, gentler with his daughter(s), still showing her things like how to shoot an arrow or how he sharpens his blades but with greater care. Gathering everyone for story time is one of Eomer’s greatest delights.

Haldir

For much of his life, Haldir did not think about children, was uncertain that was a future he would even attain. Thus, as the time approaches for consideration he realizes he simply feels blessed by the prospect and is very willing to listen to his partner about their wishes. Granted, he does not wish to live beyond his means or in a way that he could not provide for all he needs to, but in general he is open. The beauty of Lothlórien grows with every new addition, every fair member of elfkind so he is happy with boy(s) or girl(s). He would teach his daughter(s) to walk with grace and uphold their ancient strength and remind his son(s) that honor and respect must center all their actions.

Eowyn

Traditional housewife ‘duties’ were never her desire. Thus, she does not want a large family, though the idea of raising a little life with her partner makes her happy. She only wants one child, maybe two so they can play together, and her family will feel complete. Any child(ren) of hers will surely be active, so she and her spouse will have their hands full with whoever! Strength is a matter of the heart, and Eowyn will raise a strong family no matter if they are male or female. She loves the idea of having a daughter or daughters to share her stories and triumphs with, though- future Shieldmaidens of Rohan!

Arwen

She wants to be able to focus on her family, so ideally not a huge one. Carrying on her legacy and having someone to care for with her partner, a living breathing proof of their love and commitment, is the most important part. She has never been too particular about if the child is a boy or a girl, just that she wants to be there for them and a calming, loving presence in their life as much as possible. So good at holding and reassuring them it’s like magic.

Elrond

Elrond is patient, steady, and he likes to take his time both with his children and between having them. He is happy with a smaller or average-sized family, two or three children. That way he can spend his time, care, wisdom, on them all and lavish Rivendell’s resources on them in different ways. Perhaps they are interested in the rich history, the weapons of old, the art, textiles, the sheer natural beauty of the location. Whatever it may be, he will offer it to them so long as they use it well and with respect. It appeals to him to have one of each, but we all know he would have a soft spot for his daughter!

Lindir

All I can picture is twin dad Lindir. Don’t ask me why, all I know is this man elf has his hands full with a baby on each side. Exasperated but lovingly shaking his head as the two identical little elves/half-elves try to convince him they are their sibling again! Or even having one of each on one fell swoop, teaching them both their favored instrument and singing with them! Lindir doesn't mind so much whether he is to have sons, daughters, each, so long as his children have the finest things in life and know that he shall always give them what he can.

Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Reply/Message/Ask to join!

[sapphire-writes]

Chapter 1: Welcome Home

main masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

summary ~ Hired by the elusive Aemond Targaryen, you arrive at Harrenhal House to care for his niece and nephew. Things go bump in the night.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, angst, mentions of death, loss of a child, blood, wound care

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the ever lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

Harrenhal stands on the edge of our world atop lush, green hills. The God’s Eye Lake is the biggest in the country, more like the sea than any landbound body of water you’d ever seen before. 

As the Uber driver creeps along the bend of the God’s Eye, the old manor begins to come into view. A thick layer of fog seems to cling to the bricks; gray tendrils creeping onto the driveway and spilling onto the lawn. 

“Are you a long way from home?” your driver asks, meeting your eyes in the rearview as he attempts to strike up polite conversation. You assume it’s because of the rather rough start you got off with him. 

“Harrenhal House?” he had asked, face red, eyes wide, “That place is cursed.”

Not exactly the warm welcome you had wished for when you arrived in the Riverlands. Not exactly the impression Aemond Targaryen had given in his email when he offered you the job. The interview had been completed over the phone. His voice was cold, words clipped as though he wanted to find someone qualified and quickly to care for his niece and nephew.

The car pulls up to Harrenhal, tires crunching against the gravel of the driveway. The iron gates were open as you’d driven up, expecting your arrival. Hedges and statues covered with moss decorate the path toward the main house. The car slowly creeps closer. Your driver clutches the wheel as though the house means to swallow him whole. 

Harrenahal stands out like a stain against the clear blue sky. It is an enormous manor, with shutters, and brick the color of pitch. The terrifying eyesore of the Riverlands. Crows have made their nests in several of the gables, their beady black eyes watching intently as the car comes to a halt. 

A murder. 

Of course, you’d done your research before accepting the position. Both on the home and on your host. 

Harrenhal had a grizzly history. Your driver wasn’t wrong when he called it a cursed place. But the dead didn’t scare you. You had ghosts of your own.

Aemond Targaryen was a different story. Second son of Viserys Targaryen, whose recent passing was still hot news in the corporate world. Not that you paid close attention, but you’d heard there still had been no decision on the naming of the new CEO of Fire & Blood Co.

The death of the patriarch seemed to trigger a chain reaction of devastating events. If Harrenhal was cursed, so was the Targaryen family tree. Wherever the silver-haired blue bloods go, tragedy seems to follow. 

The death of little Jaehaerys is the most tragic of all. 

You’d yet to see a child-sized coffin and desperately hoped you never would.

They’d whisked Helaena Targaryen away from the boisterous streets of King’s Landing rather quickly after the funeral of her first son. After her accident.

You didn’t know what had happened, it was omitted from the press. Even the tabloids had only guesses. You doubt there are many limitations to actions caused by a mother’s grief. 

Jaehaerys left two siblings behind; a twin sister and an infant brother still too young to toddle. Aemond Targaryen was hardly ready to be a father. You’d researched him as well and read about his ascent up the corporate ladder. 

The boost of nepotism couldn’t have hurt, but from what you could tell, as you hunched over your laptop in the darkness of your hotel room, Aemond Targaryen had worked hard for his success. A tragic accident when he was a child left him blind in his left eye, leaving it cloudy and sightless, though nothing more was disclosed online about the incident.

There were other Targaryen siblings; an elder sister from a first marriage, a party boy, and another brother backpacking through the eastern continent. You flipped through countless articles and stalked the Instagram pages of the elusive family. 

However, Aemond Targaryen did not have social media. 

What he did have, was a marriage announcement, followed soon after by an obituary. 

A handsome young widower. Not even thirty. 

The deceased wife was much older. You’d browsed through Google images while slurping cold pad Thai, though there were hardly any pictures of them as a couple. Aemond seemed to avoid the press at every chance.

There weren’t many photos of him; just candid shots here and there—a dark suit, a flash of silver hair. You had shut your laptop after that, feeling suddenly self-conscious, as though Aemond would know you’d read about him the first time he laid eyes on you. 

Your Uber driver helps deposit your bags onto the gravel, shutting the trunk with a grunt. He turns to you, eying the manor nervously, as though it's a living thing waiting to open its jaws and devour you.  

“You be careful, love,” he tells you, nodding towards the house. 

“I’m tougher than I look,” you assure, awarding him a wry smile. 

The smile he offers in return is more of a grimace, and he is quick to return to the safety of his vehicle. You grab your carry-on and the handle of your suitcase, gazing up at the manor. A crow caws, alerting the others to your arrival.

A group of crows is called a murder.

You walk up to the doors, knocking once, twice. There is no answer. Turning the handle, you stepped into the grand foyer. A large staircase is the first thing you see, though you’re distracted by the man walking down the steps at a leisurely pace. 

Aemond Targaryen is more intimidating than the candid photos you’d hungrily browsed. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His long, silver hair is braided into a bun resting at the nape of his neck, a few tendrils ghosting around his face. Pouty lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a beautiful straight, pointed nose. 

You’d always had a thing for noses. 

Seven hells. Stop that. This guy is your boss, your employer. 

His eyes. One blue, the other milky and lifeless. The gash of a faded scar running up the side of his face only served to make me more handsome. 

He greets you with the title of Miss, the gentle timbre of his voice floating down to you. It’s so formal, as though you’ve walked through a portal into a Jane Austin novel. He doesn’t smile, just watches you, sizing you up.

Fucking hell, he’s even more handsome in person. 

The man could be a model if business doesn’t work out for him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him descend the steps. With his hands in his pockets, and white button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows, he oozes an air of cold confidence as his eyes trace over you. He doesn’t offer a hand to shake, despite his formality. Even when he removes his hands from his pockets, letting one drag slowly down the railing. 

“You didn’t arrive with any other baggage?” Aemond quips, the fingers of his left hand uncurling from a clenched fist. 

You blink, before glancing at your suitcase, at the carry-on bag beside it, “No…?”

Aemond hums to himself, lips pressed firmly together. His face gives nothing away, an emotionless mask of disinterest. 

“No estranged boyfriend who’ll be coming looking for you?” he asks pointedly. 

Your cheeks warm at his statement. You should have guessed he’d be direct. He didn’t ask you in the interview about a partner; just made sure you were able to commit to the position for at least six months.  

“No,” you tell him, “No boyfriend.”

His eyes, both the blue and the milky sightless, hold your gaze intently before he nods. 

“Follow me then.”

Aemond gives you a tour of the house, showing you all the rooms you’ll have access to. Mysteries are hidden behind closed doors that Aemond doesn’t acknowledge, including a closed door decorated with paintings of vines and flowers. He omits the majority of the west wing of the house which includes the location of his study. 

A man has his secrets, you suppose. 

What he does show you is the kitchen, along with the nursery and the library. Despite the age of the house, the kitchen is large and modern, with cabinets painted a deep forest green beside stainless steel appliances. A gas stove houses a tea kettle, ready and waiting.

He shows you to your room last; on the eastern side of the house close to the nursery. You follow him down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. Aemond has not attempted small talk throughout the tour of the house. 

Aemond has stayed silent unless he is informing where he is taking you next, his hands clasped behind his back. It almost looks uncomfortable, the way he holds himself upright, his spine straight as an arrow. 

“Your sister lives here as well, right?” you ask absentmindedly looking at the tapestries that decorate the hall. 

Aemond stops in front of a door, turning back to you. Those cold eyes stoke a fire within you, setting you ablaze with each glance. He is silent for a moment before he opens the door. 

“This is your room,” he continues, ignoring your question, “There are extra sheets in the lower drawers, and on Sundays, the housekeeper comes to strip the beds and tend to the rest of the house.”

He opens the bottom drawers of the large oak dresser. A large mirror rests on top of it accompanied by a dark jewelry box. The dresser matches the rest of the furniture in the room; all dark stained wood as though each piece was dunked in ink. A large four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room, the green comforter is warm and inviting. You can see God’s Eye from the large arched window; the water sparkles with the afternoon light cascading across the surface like diamonds.

“I hope you’ll find it satisfactory,” Aemond says.

You turn to face him, standing in front of the window letting the warmth of the sun on your face.

“It’s more than satisfactory,” you tell him, “Straight out of a Shirley Jackson novel.”

Aemond shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, seemingly perturbed by your praise. He purses his lips, glancing at the carpeted floor. You swear he’s smirking slightly.

“A backhanded compliment.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you assure him, your face warming with embarrassment.

“Yes well,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let's hope that’s how the buyers feel as well.”

“I didn’t realize you meant to sell,” you tell him.

“It’s ours for now, but I mean to relocate to Summerhal,” he comments, “This house isn’t held long.”

That’s all he says on the matter. You don’t ask him to elaborate. You doubt he would anyway, he seems keen to ignore your curiosity. Aemond leads you down the stairs once more and out through the kitchen onto a stone patio. The view of God’s Eye is spectacular, it’s close enough to stand at the edge if only you run down the hill. 

A garden disrupts the spacious greenery and you walk beside Aemond, struggling to keep up with his long strides. 

“She’s here, she’s here!” a small voice calls, followed by a young girl bursting through the doors and out onto the patio.

“Jaehaera!” a woman calls, chasing after the young girl.

She races down the steps to where you stand with Aemond in the gardens. Cheeks rosy, smiling brightly, Jaehaera Targareyn boldly walks up in front of you. Her blue eyes are wide and she holds out a fist full of daisies.

“I’ve picked these for you,” she declares and you kneel to meet her height, “Talya said I needed to wait.”

You take the flowers from her, pressing them against your nose and inhaling their sweet scent. You’ve always loved daisies. 

“Which you did not,” Tayla says, catching her breath as she arrives, “I’m sorry sir she didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Aemond quips, arms tucked behind his back, “They needed to meet anyway.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jaehaera. I love your dress,” you tell her, and she twirls letting her baby-blue skirt billow around her.

“You’re much prettier than Kepus told me,” Jaehaera says, eyes drinking in every inch of your face.

“I told you I hadn’t any idea what she looked like,” Aemond gently corrects.

You smile, chest feeling warm at her kindness. You tell her your name and her nose crinkles.

“I’m going to call you Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera declares softly, “Because of how perfectly lovely you are.”

“Someone’s been practicing their High Valyrian,” Aemond remarks, “Have you had your lessons today?”

Jaehaera sighs, a very small sound, “Kessa kepus.”

“Syz riña,” Aemond says, a small smile appearing on his face before glancing at you, “You’ll have to meet Maelor as well.”

“Though he’s rather boring,” Jaehaera interrupts, “He only sleeps. I told muña I wanted a sister. I already have a brother.”

Your stomach flips at her words and you glance at Aemond. His expression is stoic, though Talya pales beside him. She steps forward, kneeling next to Jaehaera, who is busy counting the petals of the daisies you now hold. 

“Jaehaera,” she says, forcing a small smile.

“What?”

Tayla grimaces, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We’ve talked about-”

“I want to see muña,” Jaehaera interrupts, shaking off Talya’s comforting hand. She glances at Aemond for help, though he offers none.

“She’s resting now….”

“I want to see her!” Jaehaera insists, louder this time lower lip wobbling.

“Why don’t you say goodbye to Talya first,” Aemond says, “She’s been very kind accompanying you here.”

“You’re leaving?” you ask the woman.

“I’m needed elsewhere, this was a very temporary arrangement,” she tells you.

“She works for my mother,” Aemond clarifies, nostrils flaring slightly, “She was unable to make the journey here.”

You remember reading about Alicent Hightower. You don’t see any of his mother in Aemond’s features. Where Alicent is soft, Aemond is sharp; nose straight and long, chin prominent. The word lethal comes to mind.

Aemond has looks to kill.

You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts. 

“Can I show you my room?” Jaehaera asks, smiling once more.

“I’d love that,” you tell her, letting her place her small hand in yours and lead you back towards the house. 

You glance behind you, watching as Aemond and Talya converse before Harrenhal swallows you once more.

“Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera asks, tugging her comforter up to her chin, “Are you going to stay with us for a long time?”

You stop picking up some of her toys from the floor. You’d been playing with dolls since after dinner and had just settled down to read a story before bed. You smile, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“I am,” you tell her, “Your uncle is working very hard and needs a little extra help.”

Jaehaera nods, taking in the words you speak. Her blue eyes watch you carefully, seeming wiser than her years. 

“I like you,” she says softly, “Kepus likes you too. I can tell. He just doesn’t say so.”

You smile at her. Aemond was clearly softer in the presence of Jaehaera. He’d been more pleasant at dinner than when you’d first arrived. Helaena was absent from supper.

“You’re not going to leave? No matter what?”

You stroke some hair from her face, “I am not going anywhere, any time soon.”

Jaehaera scoots down, laying back against her pillow. You stand, pulling the covers up when something catches your eye. You reach under her pillow, removing a doll that was hidden there. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, staring at the doll. 

It’s barely a doll, more a stick of melted charred plastic, warped from the heat. You can see remnants of legs and arms, the path a flame must have licked up through the plastic; the hair burnt to the scalp. The face is unrecognizable. 

Jaehaera reaches up, closing her small fingers around it.

“He stays here,” she tells you, “He likes to stay inside his castle.”

Geez. Creepy or what? You force a smile, letting her take the weird Barbie.

“Okay,” you tell her, “Goodnight Jaehaera.”

“Goodnight Miss Gevie,” she sing-songs.

“You know, you can just call me by my name,” you remind her.

“I like Miss Gevie better, it suits you,” she insists, yawning.

You find yourself yawning as well, and head to bed. The manor is quiet as you make your way to your room, tucking in for the night.

Sleeping in a new place can cause strange dreams. 

A bloodcurdling scream tears through the halls of the sleepy manor, its icy tendrils ripping you from your dreams and back into your bed. You awake with a gasp, sucking in air as though you’d been held underwater, just breaking through the surface. Hand clutching your throat you sit up, hair sticking to the back of your neck from the layer of sweat that covers your body. 

The house is quiet once more.

Breathing heavily you sit up in bed for a moment, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You rise on shaky legs moving towards the door, and the ancient doorknob groans in protest as you turn it. 

The hallway is dark, moonlight shining through the window at the end painting the floor with streaks of silver. 

Maybe you were still dreaming.

But then, a low groan begins, the guttural sounds of a mourning mother’s wail. It washes over you like ice water and your stomach turns as the scream reaches its highest peak. Despite the alarm in your mind telling you to turn back into your room and hide under the covers, you race down the hallway towards the sound. 

With each and every step toward the western wing, the screaming gets louder, broken up with deep sobs. You quicken your pace, bare feet padding against the carpet as you reach the source. The door you’d passed earlier, painted with flowers and twisting vines is open now, yellow light pouring into the hall from the lamp. 

Aemond holds a girl in his arms--not a girl but a small woman; she’s frail, elbows poking against flesh like a starved baby bird, tears streaming down her ashy cheeks. Her silver hair is damp with perspiration, clinging to her face and neck as she clutches Aemond’s forearm. They’re in a heap together on the floor, Aemond’s arms tensed around her as he gently shushes her. 

“Helaena…it's alright, it was just a dream,” he assures her, his voice softer and warmer than you’ve heard since meeting him. 

He glances up at you, acknowledging your presence but saying nothing; his entire attention is on his sister. 

“It’s never just a dream,” Helaena wails, nails digging into Aemond’s forearm, “Or maybe it is, maybe I’m asleep even now.”

A chill runs down your spine at Helaena’s words.

“Maybe I’ve been sleeping all along,” she continues, eyes glassy and her voice hoarse, “I could feel him, Aemond, it was so real.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I could feel him…in my arms….against my breast like when he was a baby…feeding, it was so real,” she says, her voice dropping into a whisper. 

Helaena’s lips trembled, parted in a silent sob. The hand that does not anchor her to Aemond rests atop her breast, as though she can feel Jaehaerys against her chest even now. 

“It’s alright dōna mandia,” Aemond murmurs, still stroking her hair. He rocks back and forth, starting a gentle pace to soothe her, “Go to the kitchen.” His voice is directed at you this time, your eyes meeting his. The tone he uses is still soft, and when you don’t move, he gestures toward the hall with a nod of his head. 

“Do you hear him?” Helaena continues, “Running down the hall? Jaehaerys! Māzigon kesīr dōna valonqar!” (Come here, sweet boy). 

“There’s no one there, Helaena,” Aemond soothes. 

“I hear him,” she sobs, turning her face into Aemond’s chest, “Why can’t you hear him?”

Helaena’s sobs and questions are still ringing through your head as you leave the room, heading downstairs. 

You make your way to the kitchen, standing in the dark, shocked for a moment before turning on the light. Helaena’s cries and pleas still echo in your mind as you fill the kettle left on the stove and turn on the gas burner. Searching through cabinets you find an array of handmade mugs, choosing a purple one with a twisted handle. 

You rummage through some more drawers until you find some herbal tea, setting it beside the stove as you wait for the water to boil. You tap your fingers against the counter, a nervousness curling in your belly as you gaze out the window that leads to the backyard. You had known Helaena wasn’t well, but you didn’t realize just how serious it was. 

You inhale a deep breath trying to steady yourself. It’s shaken you up quite a bit, hearing her agonized screams. Your hands tremble and you press your palms flat against the counter. A door slams from somewhere upstairs and you glance at the ceiling. 

You look out the window once more, peering into the darkness. The God's Eye is just a still pool reflecting the light of the moon. A shadow moves behind you, reflecting in the glass and you gasp turning around.

“Seven hells!” you curse as Aemond walks into the kitchen, “You scared me.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just watches you for a moment, chest rising and falling with his breath. He must have also been asleep when Helaena’s terrors began as he’s clad in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, silver hair loosely braided down his back.  

Ruby-red beads of blood blossom from the crescent-shaped marks on Aemond’s left forearm. You watch them swell into ruby marbles against his porcelain flesh before he grabs a rag on the counter, covering them. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, as Aemond sits in a chair. 

It’s almost like he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him; he takes a moment to process before he nods. You watch him as he stares at the table, tension rolling off his shoulders. The kettle begins to whistle and you quickly remove it from the stovetop, turning off the flames. 

You pour your own mug before moving to the cabinet where you’d found it, retrieving a second. This one is green with gray streaks. Another handmade treasure, you’re sure. 

You make Aemond a cup of tea, placing it in front of him before taking the seat next to him. His eye flickers toward the steaming cup. Though he hesitates for a moment, he wraps his long fingers against it, pulling it closer.

“It’s hot,” you tell him, as he lifts it to his lips.

“I don’t mind,” he murmurs. You’d likely burn your lip if you didn’t wait a few minutes. Aemond sighs contentedly, violet eye meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “I should have told you…”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “I figured she was grieving. You’d mentioned she’d been unwell.”

“The doctors say it's night terrors,” Aemond comments, taking another sip, “Due to the trauma she’s experienced.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m meant to speak with her psychiatrist later this week,” he says, “She’s begun a new medication to help her sleep. I don’t think it’s been doing her any good.”

“Sometimes those things take time,” you tell him, trying to ease some of his distress. He merely hums in response, as though he’s heard it all before. You glance at the rag on his forearm, biting on your lower lip before deciding to speak again. “Do you have a first aid kit?” 

Aemond nods, bringing a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Above the fridge,” he murmurs, not looking up.

Rising from your seat, you retrieve the small kit, and place it on the table in front of you. You reach out toward him, tentatively moving the rag from his forearm, revealing the crescent-shaped marks. They’ve begun to clot, and you fold the rag into a small square, placing it on the table beside you. You dig for a few bandaids settling for the smallest ones. 

“She had nowhere else to go,” Aemond says, more to himself than to you as you place the bandages on his arm, “Jaerhara, and Maelor they need to be with family. There’s no one else. Nowhere else.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” you tell him, pulling your hands away. You reach for your mug, placing your hands around it and letting the warmth seep into you. 

Aemond hums, not answering, though he seems unconvinced by your statement. 

“I mean it,” you tell him, “I can see how much you care about them. And your sister.”

Aemond meets your eye once more, his gaze softening.

“She is the best person,” he tells you, his voice even and calm, “The best mother….the best sister.”

There’s pain hidden behind the words that he speaks; you can hear it coating his voice. 

“She’s just in one of her hard times,” he assures you, “She goes through phases. Not..not wanting to see Maelor…it comes and goes.”

You reach for his hand. In the heat of the moment, you’re not sure what else to do. There are no more words of comfort to offer him. Your hand fits in his perfectly, resting on top of the table. His palm is warm, the skin surprisingly calloused. Your lips part, a soft gasp slipping free at the feeling of his hand in yours. 

Eyes wide, you smile softly at him before squeezing comfort into his hand. Aemond doesn’t squeeze back, but he doesn’t pull his hand away either. You sit like that for several minutes, neither of you moving. 

“Your tea will get cold,” Aemond eventually murmurs, breaking the silence. 

Your hand slips out of his grasp, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. Clutching the mug, you bring it to your lips, sipping carefully. 

It’s already cold.

How long have you been sitting here?

Aemond is watching you still, as you lower the mug. He stands then, taking both mugs to the sink.

“It’s late,” he comments, “We should get some sleep.”

You nod, standing. Aemond pushes into your chair, walking beside you back upstairs. He turns toward the western wing. 

“You’re not going to sleep?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

“I am,” Aemond says, turning slightly, “I prefer to stay in my study.”

“Oh,” you comment, “Well ... .goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says before disappearing down the hallway.

You return to your room, lying underneath the covers trying to get warm when you come to a realization. 

That was the first time Aemond had called you by your name.

note: let me know what you think! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them)

if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!

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[masterkeynobi]

usually i loathe when a protagonist gets turned into a "bad" parent in a sequel series but tortall does it so well and so realistically that i can't help but think it'd be ooc any other way. of course alanna is gruff and sometimes unkind and not always present. of course jonathan must do what is best for realm and reputation; of course he's king first, father second. jon's parenting style is visible from the start in how roald acts during his page years — jon as a page sees ralon held down and beaten for the crime of bothering little alan; roald, much as he wants to, can't so much as join kel on her nighttime patrols for fear of how it'd look. jon takes alanna on as a squire because they're good friends & lovers; roald has had his knight-master picked out for him for years before he's even made a squire.

alanna gets along well enough with alan and thom, her knightling and her scholar, but she can't for the life of her understand how aly works. in my opinion this has something to do both with the fact that aly is a lot more like george in the most dangerous ways and with the fact that aly is rather significantly more of a Girl than alanna ever was. alanna had no (0) female friends growing up and only one older female mentor figure. she grew up and still lives the vast majority of her life surrounded by men of similar status. is it any surprise she finds her sons easier to talk to?

there's a passing sentence in trickster's choice that alludes to aly having once been jealous of how effusive her mother was about keladry of mindelan. i can't help but think also about kalasin ii of conté, kally whose mother's people are matrilineal, kally who should by rights have been her mother's heir. kally who calls the lioness aunt and wanted as a child nothing more than to be a knight, who will spend the rest of her life in carthak and likely never see a lady knight again. i think she was jealous of kel too, but in the opposite direction. aly couldn't and wouldn't be who kel was, too protective of her own freedom and too much like her father to ever want a shield. aly envied the easy understanding alanna had of kel's ambitions and grit. kalasin had those same ambitions but never got the chance to show that same grit. kalasin spent the four years of kel's page training at king's reach learning to be an empress.

it's the. not wanting and choosing not to do vs the wanting and not having the choice. it's the jealousy someone so distant from alanna got so much of her attention when her interactions with her own daughter were constantly snippy vs the thought that kally should've been there first, should've gotten to prove the conservatives wrong, should've been able to show kel around and shield (ha) her from the worst of their ire. no little girls will grasp wide-eyed for tales of aly cooper or empress kalasin the same way they do for the lioness and lady kel. i don't think aly minds, but i think kalasin very, very quietly does.

[devildomwriter]

Our Greatest Hope | Obey Me Short Story

1.4K | GN! AFAB! Reader x Diavolo | CW: Mentions of parenting, labor, aging, faith, slight angst

There has never been a being like your son. Half human, half demon, with angel blood. What will he become? Can you lead a child with such power and influence down the right path, will he be like his father or will his human side make him vulnerable?

“I’ll never let harm come to you. The world will be yours my dearest son. You are our greatest hope. Surely a child born of three worlds will be the one to unite them.” The promise left Diavolo’s lips as he held your pregnant stomach, head resting against it.

True to his word, your son would have everything he could ever need.

At first, it was scary. Diavolo’s mother had died giving birth, even with all their magic and advanced technology, giving birth was still dangerous. The one who gave birth to the devil’s son would always come across some misfortune during pregnancy or labor, whether it be constant nausea or intense labor pain. You and Diavolo knew this and though he was more hesitant than you, you decided to bear his child.

Would his Human side hinder him or help him? Would he age just as quickly as a human, and die just as easily? Would his wings and horns be pronounced? Would the Devildom accept a Cambion with angel blood as their true leader?

So many worries plagued your mind but the instant you first saw your son, your worries melted and were replaced with love. Your son was different from the beginning. He did not cry or laugh when he was born, he was silent and his tiny squinting golden eyes were observant of everything.

Diavolo cradled both you and your son during your duration in the Demon Lord Castle’s medical wing. After a few weeks of observation you could return to your room with Diavolo and your child stayed in his crib near your side.

He was still quiet. He never cried in the middle of the night but sometimes when you went to check on him he’d be awake. Bright eyes looked around the room before locking onto you and reaching out his hands.

His silence worried you and Diavolo at first but after a while, he began trying to mimic your words and eventually, he learned to call for you through infantile shouts rather than crying.

After a few months, he cried for the first time. His horns were coming in. Unlike his father whose horns grew from the sides of his skull, his horns protruded from the top of his forehead and grew upwards, slightly arched back.

By a year his wings took form. He only had one pair, they were larger and black with a slight red coloring like his father’s. By a year and a half, he looked like a true demon. Appearing human and hiding his wings and horns was too much to ask of a small child so you hid them with magic whenever you visited the human world, friends, and family.

When he was two years old he became a big brother and his sister was nothing at all like him. She was loud, fussy, and demanded attention, and when she wanted something she cried, she could fake her tears after a few weeks.

Your son did not understand this behavior, he was confused and you often found him in his bed with a pillow over his head. He had the senses of a demon, so it was inevitable he’d hear his sister cry. You did not get much sleep during this time nor did your husband, Diavolo.

As soon as your son could crawl he was trying to follow his father to work. If Diavolo stopped walking, so did your son. He was his father’s shadow before he even knew this was his duty.

When he was old enough to understand Diavolo had a private talk with your son, explaining what was expected of him as the prince. Although he did not quite understand the gravity, your son knew he was important and that he needed to be like his dad. Thus, he became even more of Diavolo’s shadow.

His sister however did not follow in his footsteps, for this reason even though he was barely more than a toddler he became his sister’s keeper, and eventually his brothers’ too.

In a way, he saw his siblings as practice. He needed to be a good example and a good leader, but he was still a child. Even though he’d always been mature for his age, it was still easy to give into temptation and his sister was an excellent demon, convincing him to wait up for Santa, to sneak snacks from the kitchen, to stay up late, and more.

In some ways, it was a relief to see him act like a child but Barbatos became worried and attended to your son’s younger siblings more so that Diavolo could focus on bringing up his son.

Diavolo was an anxious mess during his son’s formative years. Was he doing this right? He didn’t have a father to turn to. He wasn’t sure if his father was so strict with him for his own sake or if he was resentful his wife had died to birth him. Was he supposed to be very strict with his son? He didn’t want to be neglectful but his son needed to grow on his own too. There were so many contradicting points when it came to being a good parent and a good king.

Your son was sometimes confused too. He knew his dad didn’t like to scold him but he knew his dad was worried he wasn’t doing things right.

Your son had been perceptive from the moment he was born. He knew more than you and Diavolo could have imagined and the older he became the more you understood this.

You never saw him study Latin but he knew the language fluently, you never told him about the brothers’ history but he knew it as well as you, there were so many things you discovered about him every day and as you did so he was learning something else.

You would never forget the horrified expression on your young son when his father showed him the most critical part of their job—to judge and punish souls. Why did a dog killer go to heaven and an orphanage director go to hell? Because of faith? Why was this fair? He was meant to be the opposing side to the person who created everything. He was at a disadvantage from the start. He was meant to be evil and govern all forms of it but your son was nothing like that.

He did not embody evil, he did not embrace evil, and he did love a prank or two but he never started them. He wasn’t chaotic like his father. Like his father he was considerate but like you, he was so very human.

Indeed the son of the demon king and the future ruler of hell had a human heart and a loving soul. A soul so pure he could ascend to the Celestial Realm. As happy as you were your son was a good person and yours and Diavolo’s parenting had shaped a humble prince and not an arrogant one, only time would tell if this human heart was fit to rule hell.

Thanks to your magic and your vows with Diavolo, you lived a very long time. Thousands upon thousands of years and Earth ended and began anew many times. Each time you, Diavolo, and your son worked hard to bring this new generation of humans to peace with your realm. It worked every time but as Revelations determined, evil rose and a faction of demon rebels would invade the earth. The angels and two humans would defeat them and the bridges would slowly be mended again and again.

Your son disliked this even more than Diavolo. He was done with human suffering, with demons being the blame, and with angels blaming all demons when only a few were responsible.

Thousands of years later when your son took the crown he would be the shining example of peace between the realms. A demon king with the blood of the three worlds, with him, his trusted siblings, leader of the Celestial Realm Seraphim Luke, and the many angels and sorcerers he’d befriended, one day the worlds would see eternal peace.

Those words his father spoke to him as he was still within your womb stayed with him long after you and Diavolo ascended to the Celestial Realm, “You are our greatest hope. Surely a child born of three worlds will be the one to unite them.”

Now nearly a million years old, your son looked at the portrait of you and Diavolo and smiled to himself as he held his own son in his arms. “You did well, you may rest now.” He said softly. His wife came up behind him, his young daughter squirming in her arms.

“Your sisters and brothers are here,” she let him know and he nodded. His daughter sprang free from her mother and clung to his leg. He smiled and held both her and his son as he descended the palace stairs to meet his family.

[flowerandblood]

The Last Word (Oneshot)

 [ canon • Aemond x lady-in-waiting • female ]

[ warnings: angst, humiliation, hard chauvinism, suicide, characters death, a lot of pain, because I felt like it ]

[ description: Being Princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting is her dream come true. However, because of one exchange overheard by the king's second son, Prince Aemond, she may lose everything. The prince gives her conditions she cannot refuse, and she accepts them, not knowing that her life will change forever. This is an Anon Request in which the heroine is flat-chested. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

____

Being princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting was an honour for her. She was a maiden of great beauty and culture, gentle and warm, often immersed in her own world of musings, unable to maintain relationships with other women.

They did not want to understand her, depending on her favour for purely selfish reasons, because of which they acted in an exemplary manner around her, however, as soon as the princess disappeared from their sight, they commented loudly on her behaviour.

"Did you see that disgusting spider she showed to us lately? I believe she even gave it a name. Poor thing." Murmured one of them, a fair-haired beauty, Lord Lannister's niece. She furrowed her brow at her words, feeling discomfort, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You owe her everything you have. Your position, your wealth, your future marriage. Speak of her with respect." She said coolly, the girl approached her, unhappy with the way she had expressed her opinion, the rest of them remained silent, not wanting to get unnecessarily involved in an argument.

"Who are you to lecture me? You came here, some poor lady from the North whose father probably wallows in the muck around his grey castle every day. You don't even look like a woman, your chest is as flat as a child's, I don't know if even the support of a princess will help you find a man to desire you." She snarled, her golden dress shimmering in the sun hovering high above the Red Keep. She swallowed loudly at her insult, pressing her lips together, feeling the tears of shame burning under her eyelids, not letting them flow.

"I see you like to divert attention from your vices. Unfortunately, outward appearances are of little use when the rot has started on the inside. The fish, as they say, rots from the head." She said calmly, she heard a slap and then felt a painful burning sensation on her cheek, Lady Lannister looked at her with wide eyes, red with rage, the girls around them covered their mouths at the sight of her slapping her.

"How dare you, you… my prince −" She muttered, horrified, bowing quickly, she had to look over her shoulder to notice a tall, black silhouette behind her, the face of Prince Aemond, the king's second son, was stony and cold, he was looking down at them with some kind of disgust that sent shivers down her spine.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that he had heard their entire conversation, including what had been said about his sister.

"I will convey to the princess how devoted her ladies-in-waiting are." He said lowly, impassively, throwing her one cool look, turning tense, wanting to leave.

Lady Lannister cried pleadingly behind him that it had been a misunderstanding, and then threw herself at her, the other girls having to drag her away from her as she became completely enraged.

"You will pay for this." She hissed, but she didn't care, thinking only that it was the wrath of someone else that she feared.

She spent the afternoon in her chamber, tense and terrified at the thought that she would have to return home to her three brothers and four sisters, that she would once again be the youngest, unseen child, one of many of the same grey existence.

She shuddered as she heard a knock on her door, and a moment later a servant appeared inside, looking at her with uncertain, frightened eyes.

"Prince Aemond wants to see you, my lady."

She thought she was going there as if he was about to behead her, guessing what awaited her and that she would surely be informed that, like the rest of the ladies of the court, she was going back to where she had come from.

The door to his chamber opened before her and she stepped inside, noticing his silhouette sitting with his back to her with his legs crossed, he was reading a book without even bestowing a single glance on her, he only spoke to her when they were left alone.

"Tell me exactly what you were discussing." He commanded in a low, impassive voice, turning the page with an impatient, smooth motion.

She lowered her gaze, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous gesture, feeling her heart pounding like mad, sweat on her back.

"Lady Lannister mocked the princess for naming her spider. I replied that she should speak of her with more respect." She said in a trembling voice, heard him hum under his breath, still looking at the book, bored.

"What did the other ladies-in-waiting said?" He continued, and she blinked, wondering what to answer.

She didn't want to portray them in a bad light.

"They didn't say anything, because Lady Lannister likes to say ill-considered things." She muttered, trying to defend them in some way, not wanting to be vindictive, though part of her mind opted for her to take the opportunity.

"The fish rots from the head." He murmured, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, an all-consuming shame spread through her body at the thought of him hearing this exchange of words.

Gods, what a humiliation, she thought with tears in her eyes.

She did not reply.

She shuddered as he stood up and moved towards her, looking at him with big eyes, surprised, it seemed to her that he was even taller than she had always assumed, watching him from afar.

"Am I to believe that you happen to be the only person who defended my sister?" He asked with a note of mockery and impatience from which she felt a stab of pain in her heart, the fact that he thought she was saying all this out of vanity.

"That is not what I said. You are changing the meaning of my words, my prince." She replied without thinking and lowered her gaze, feeling his whole body tense up after her insolent statement, which could cost her everything.

"You think men desire women who don't know when to be silent?" He hissed, she didn't dare look at him, however, she decided that since all was lost anyway, she wouldn't leave his question unanswered.

"I think men desire what they desire. There's no great philosophy behind it." She replied, and he snorted, as if he didn't believe she still had the courage to speak.

"Do you think men are mere animals, my lady?" He asked with a sneer; she pressed her lips together, frustrated that he was still using her words in a context that did not at all follow from what she had actually said.

"I think this discussion is fruitless. If you wish to send me away, my prince, please do so, just let me bid the princess farewell and express how sorry I am for what has happened and what you have unfortunately witnessed." She said feeling that she had lost patience, tired and resigned, imagining in the back of her mind her return home.

"Just a moment ago you were the one accusing me of not understanding the meaning of your words." He said disapprovingly, and she looked at him surprised, seeing that he had turned away, walking back towards his chair, sitting down on it with a loud creak of wood.

"You stay. You will be my eyes and ears. If any of the ladies who surround my sister speak that way about her behind her back or do other things unworthy of their position, you will report it to me." He ordered coolly, and she swallowed loudly, shocked.

"Do you have anything else to convey to me?" He asked impatiently, looking over his shoulder at her, and she shook her head quickly.

"No, my prince."

"You may leave."

She nodded, wanting to leave his chamber immediately, but stopped in mid-step, feeling her heart pounding fast, wondering if she should do this.

She swallowed hard, turning back, hearing that she had not left his quarters he threw her a frustrated, sharp look.

"Prince Aegon." She started, but he only tightened his lips.

"No."

She grunted quietly and bowed to him, opening the door and stepping out into the corridor, thinking with pain and disappointment that she had at least tried.

She could not count the number of times she had witnessed Princess Helaena's husband entertaining himself with servants, even flirting with the ladies of the court, avoiding her for obvious reasons.

She looked like a child.

Lady Lannister was stripped of her position, which she accepted with satisfaction, the other girls knowing that Prince Aemond stopped her once in a while to speak to her began to fear her, thinking apparently that she had become his mistress.

"How is my sister?" He asked her one day as she was just passing through the courtyard when he was training with Ser Criston Cole, seeing her he ordered a break and approached her, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword stuck in the ground.

She sighed heavily, covering herself more tightly with the thin blue cloak she was wearing.

"She sleeps badly. Prince Aegon wakes her up at night when he comes back drunk from…. we must then lead him to his chamber, and she is restless until morning." She said tiredly, knowing that, as usual, she had been lecturing him about how his brother had a bad influence on her and was the cause of her unhappiness, and that, like always, he would do nothing about it.

She saw him lick his lips in a sign of impatience, looking to the side.

"Anything else?"

"No."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his nostrils quivering, she knew her attitude and form of expression devoid of courtesy frustrated him.

He swallowed loudly and pressed his lips together as if he wanted to say something else, shifting from foot to foot, an awkward silence fell between them.

"If I were her husband, I would make sure that she could at least feel safe. My current role ties my hands." He replied after a moment, and she lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he had just confided in her. She nodded with sympathy, thinking that his words spoke well of him.

"I know. You are a man of honour. I also regret that such an injustice has befallen her, my prince. She has been deprived of the good husband she deserves." She said looking at him, wanting him to know that she understood his pain, something changed in his face, in his gaze flashed something like surprise and pain.

He nodded, letting her know that he had nothing more to convey to her, and turned back towards Criston Cole.

She moved ahead, thinking that she truly respected him as a man.

However, a few months later, something happened that changed their lives forever.

Prince Aemond returned from Storm's End along with the word that he had murdered his nephew.

A great war broke out, Princess Helaena's son was murdered, her husband suffered great wounds in the battle, and their younger brother flew to Harrenhal only to find that the stronghold was empty and to give his life to the woman everyone believed to be a witch, into whom he had put his bastard child.

Long months passed before she saw him again, a servant entered her chamber late in the evening as she was already preparing for sleep, informing her that Prince Aemond had arrived at the keep and demanded her presence.

She hurriedly put on her robe, covering her nightgown, without even having time to tie up her hair, and headed for his chamber. As she stepped inside she felt a squeeze in her throat when she saw his familiar silhouette sitting as usual in a chair right next to the fire, gazing into the flames, even though they had spoken many times, he now frightened her more than ever before.

"Has her condition improved in any way?" He asked coolly, looking at her only after a moment, she saw something similar to surprise flash across his face when he saw what she looked like, a glimpse of his healthy eye sweeping over her figure.

She swallowed hard, looking down at her hands, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart.

It was getting worse.

"No." She whispered, and heard him sigh heavily, burying his face in his hand, tired and defeated.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, not hearing any further questions or his words that she should leave, she didn't know what she should do with herself so she stood still, looking around his chamber anxiously. An idea suddenly occurred to her and she licked her lips quickly, deciding that perhaps she should say it out loud.

"Your visit would certainly lift her spirits, my prince." She said finally, but he laughed mockingly at her words, shaking his head in disbelief, she felt an unpleasant shiver run down her spine.

"A visit from the man whose actions led to the murder of her son. Most certainly." He replied, revealing his face, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a loud creak of old wood, placing his hands on the armrests, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm going to be a father."

She looked at him, horrified, swallowing loudly, surprised that he had said such a thing out loud. She felt her whole body quivering, that this conversation was overwhelming her, for some reason she felt a dull, piercing pain in her heart, something akin to a huge, sad disappointment.

"I am aware."

"What do you think of me, my lady?"

Silence.

"Go on. I've always appreciated your sharp tongue." He hummed, tapping his index finger against the wood on which his hand lay.

"There is nothing I can say on the matter. I'm not well-read on the subject of lovers and mistresses." She replied, and he sneered under his breath, there was something mischievous in the sound, but also a kind of relief, as if for some reason he needed to speak to someone about the matter.

She didn't know if he was aware of it, or if he was trying to confide in her subconsciously, unable to hold it in anymore.

"I'm curious what you would think of her if you met her. About my Alys." He muttered under his breath, the woman's name sounded mysterious and proud, he said it lingeringly, as if thoughtful, as if saying it he saw her face in his mind.

For some reason she felt a burning wetness under her eyelids.

My Alys.

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in her throat, her body trembling, trying with all her might to stop what was happening to her, not to think or feel, but a single, solitary tear ran down her cheek anyway.

Before she managed to wipe it away his gaze settled on her face and stayed on it, his lips parted in disbelief, as if he had only just realised that his words were inappropriate.

It seemed to her that he wanted to say something, to apologise, but his voice stuck in his throat as she covered her mouth and laughed desperately, tears flew, flew and flew down her face, as if something inside her had burst.

"− she is surely a wonderful woman − and now, with your permission, I would like to return to my chamber −" She muttered with a grief-stricken smile, wiping her cheeks, eyes and nose, knowing that she was now as red as the tomatoes from which she had eaten soup that evening.

She left immediately when she saw that he had nodded, and it was only behind the door of her quarters that she burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

She had never gotten her hopes high, she had watched and loved him from afar, in silence and humility, but his words seemed downright cruel to her, as if he knew he would hurt her with them.

She had always been faithful to him and his family, so why had he humiliated her?

The next day she avoided the places where she could meet him, spending all her free time in his sister's chamber, who lay in her bed, gazing at the sky outside the window. She sat beside her and held her hand, as she had always done for many months.

There was nothing more she could do for her.

She helped her bathe, dress, walk and lie down.

Although she tried to engage in conversation with her, the princess locked herself in her mind and did not leave it.

She did not come out of her chamber until late in the evening, heading to her rooms, exhausted, walking inside with a loud sigh, throwing the books she had been reading in the meantime onto her bed.

She shuddered and screamed, frightened, catching her heart when she heard movement behind her, saw his silhouette rise from a chair standing on the other side of her quarters.

"− gods −" She muttered, sighing heavily in relief, thinking that perhaps it was some kind of assassin again, trying to calm herself down.

He didn't even say a word when he approached her in a lazy, unhurried step, towering over her with his figure, holding his hands entwined behind his back, his face impassive and thoughtful, his lips clenched into a thin line.

"I am returning to Harrenhal. Another uprising has broken out." He began, and she felt that painful tightness in her throat again. She nodded and clenched her eyelids, wanting to show him that she understood and that he did not need to explain anything to her, he continued, however. "I trust only you. I wish you to keep me informed of what is happening in the keep."

"As you wish, my prince." She said quietly, looking blankly at his chest, angry and bitter that she felt a pleasant heat in her lower abdomen and a tickle in her fingertips from his distinctive scent, a mixture of male sweat, dust and smoke.

She didn't understand why he stood there and remained silent, why he couldn't leave her alone, why he was torturing her.

"After what happened in Storm's End, for many nights I considered taking you by force. I came close to doing it many times, close to taking you with me to Harrenhal, but I spared you." He whispered in a quiet, trembling voice and she shook her head quickly, horrified by his words and how much they hurt her, she wondered how he could be saying this to her now, what purpose it would serve.

"I am grateful to you for your mercy. It will not be forgotten." She said in a hollow, impassive voice, from which he swallowed hard and tense all over, she heard him draw in a loud, impatient breath.

"Do you resent me for this? Would you rather I made you my whore? Hm? Nothing is lost yet." He hissed, taking a step towards her, and she stepped back, looking into his face with a fury from which she saw the hesitation in his eye.

"Get out. Run to her. Enjoy the birth of a child similar to those you have despised all your life." She said coldly, saw something flash across his face and for a moment thought in disbelief that her words, her rejection had hurt him.

He swallowed hard, turned and simply walked away, as he always did, leaving only a void behind him.

The word of his defeat, that he and his uncle had fallen from the sky, that Daemon's sword had pierced his skull, reached her and sliced through her heart like a dagger.

She wept that day in her bed thinking of all the things she had never told him, of how deep inside her even though he had broken her heart, she recognised as an act of his warm affection and respect that he had not stripped her of her dignity, that in thinking of her he had given up himself and his desires, even though a part of her wanted so much for him to destroy her.

Helaena threw herself from the window a few days later, and her death, the most innocent of them all, made her lose her reason for living.

She thought of following in her footsteps, but instead, before the troops of the Blacks occupied the keep she fled, heading along the king's tract to Harrenhal and then beyond to where he was last seen.

She felt a sense of relief when she jumped off the cliff, as if she was free at last, the water she fell into was icy.

The thought of death terrified her and calmed her at the same time, she thought for a moment her body would struggle for one more breath and then it would resign itself to its fate and become silent forever.

She felt a squeeze in her throat, the last warm sensation surging through her lower abdomen as she sank down into the darkness and recognized in the distance his long, white hair.

[teyamskxawng]

The Fight [I]

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Next Part Here

The rundown: The beach fight scene but make it Reader vs Aonung and he gets his ass beat LMAO. Ft. jealous, possessive (and lowkey oblivious) Neteyam having a crisis over the reader.

Warnings: language, bullying, slight violence, brief mention of the reader's deceased parents, Aonung bashing (but only for the purposes of this fic!! i fr trust Aonung's character arc), characters are aged up

WC: 8.8k

A/N: Don't even ask lol, I just wanted reader to be a badass. Second half of the fic delves into Neteyam's feelings and such. I'll prob finish this in like 1 or 2 more parts, so stay tuned for that! :)

Kiri was sprawled out on her stomach in a shallow area of the beach, her face entirely submerged in the crisp, clear water. Intently, she observed a tiny hole dug into the sand, a hub of activity for little critters periodically scurrying in and out.

Meanwhile, you sat beside her, equally entranced by the little wonder of nature the two of you had chanced upon during your mid-afternoon beach excursion.

Just as you lifted your head out of the water to catch your breath and stretch your neck, you felt vibrations from approaching footsteps and hushed voices carried by the sea breeze. Recognizing the voices, you quickly realized that it was Aonung and his band of goons lurking by the shore.

One of the guys pointed a webbed finger at you and Kiri, making it blatantly obvious that you two were the center of their group's conversation.

With a sly smirk and an obnoxiously loud voice, the boy asked his friends, "What are they doing?"

A chorus of laughter erupted among the group, immediately setting off alarms in your mind. You staunchly stood by Kiri, prepared to defend your friend against any potential ridicule or harm.

Meanwhile, Kiri remained blissfully unaware of all that was transpiring above water. Her head still submerged beneath gentle waves, she continued to marvel at the underwater world without a clue about the brewing laughter above.

Aonung scratched his head in mock confusion before turning to his friends and sarcastically asking, "Is she some kind of…freak?"

This wisecrack immediately set you on edge.

You gently shook Kiri's shoulder, calling out her name in a bid to get her attention but not startle her. Dazed and still somewhat out of the loop, Kiri lifted her head out of the water. Blinking the sea from her eyes, she groggily replied, "Huh? What did you say?"

The guys around you couldn't contain their childish amusement, snickering as they watched the scenario unfold.

Kiri's puzzled gaze finally fell upon the boisterous crowd surrounding them. "Oh." She replied, her entire demeanor deflating.

One of the guys chimed in condescendingly as if addressing a toddler trying to understand a grown-up conversation. "He asked if you were a freak," he smirked.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in disdain, doing your best to suppress the growing urge to smack that smug grin off the little cretin's face. He looked like he belonged in a cage.

"Kiri, let's get out of here. These fish fuckers actually think that they're funny." You threw a venomous glare at the boys, allowing your piercing stare to linger just a fraction longer on Aonung–the one you least expected this behavior from.

As the son of the Metkayina chief, you assumed he would be different, a sharper contrast to his counterparts. You couldn't help comparing Aonung unfavorably to Neteyam, whose father was the late Omatikayan chief.

Neteyam carried himself with poise and grace far removed from Aonung's immature antics. Further adding salt to Aonung's proverbial wound was how unlike his little sister Tsireya he seemed to be. Although she was young, Tsireya radiated kindness and welcomed you and the Sully kids with open arms from the first day you arrived.

Aonung shot you a smug, sly smirk, allowing his eyes to flit up and down your figure, causing an uneasy sensation to skitter across your skin like an unwanted insect.

With sudden haste, fueled by the desire to escape, your hand shot out and latched onto Kiri's arm–maybe gripping with a bit too much force–as you seized the opportunity to depart from the presence of the immature boys.

Dragging Kiri out of the water with determination, you guided her toward the safety and solitude of the shoreline. To your dismay, though, the boys were not so easily deterred.

They pursued you and Kiri with dogged persistence; their snickers echoed through the air like a pack of viperwolves as they threw snide remarks targeted at your departing backs, whispering just loud enough for you and Kiri to overhear.

"Look at their tails,"

"Aww, baby tail!"

You gritted your teeth, willing yourself to maintain control despite your growing anger. You had hoped that your unspoken plea for serenity would be granted—that you could slip away unnoticed and go about your day. But clearly, Eywa had other plans.

Your breaking point presented itself when Aonung couldn't resist taking his antics a step further, reaching out and brazenly yanking Kiri's tail—probably thinking he was the height of hilarity.

That was the final straw for you; any iota of self-control you'd managed to cling to all this while suddenly snapped like a fragile twig underfoot.

You swiftly tucked Kiri protectively behind your body, baring your fangs with ferocious intensity at Aonung. With a menacing hiss, you attempted to warn him off.

However, Aonung was unfazed by your display; instead, he only widened his smirk and put his hands up theatrically in a gesture of mock surrender. Chuckling derisively, his eyes darted toward his friends for approval.

His cronies wasted no time in offering their reaction, joining in on the laugh track and seemingly growing bolder by the second as they encircled you and Kiri with an unnerving persistence.

"Why so strung up, y/n? I know you're a forest girl and all, but there's no need to go full tribal warrior on us. You're not a freak like Kiri," Aonung teased as he approached you while confidently throwing aside any semblance of personal space or respect.

He reached out and boldly clasped one of your hands as if you were old friends catching up over lunch. Looming over your figure like an unwelcome raincloud, Aonung brandished your hand in front of everyone, showing off the distinct three fingers that set you apart from your friends Kiri and Lo'ak, both of whom inherited their father's four fingers.

"I gotta say," he said while flashing an exaggerated grin at you, "I really don't mind these little hands at all."

With each word, Aonung's grin grew further on his face, as if daring anyone to challenge him.

As he continued to violate your personal space and dignity, you could feel the bubbling cauldron of rage within you reaching its tipping point.

Aonung just stood there on the shore with an infuriating, cocky smirk plastered on his face. His eyes seemed to dig into you as if attempting to burrow inside your head. There was something spectral about his gaze, something that roused an uncontrollable rage within you.

In a quickly unfolding series of events, you yanked your hand away from Aonung's iron grip.

Your blood was boiling at that point, and you immediately raised your fists in a fighter's stance that you learned from Jake, barely containing the volcanic fury surging through your veins.

With admittedly impressive speed and precision, you unleashed a brutal punch that connected with Aonung's cheekbone.

Caught off guard, he stumbled back, visibly dazed from the sudden, forceful attack.

However, you weren't anywhere close to being done with him. The torrential outburst had clouded your perception of time; the seconds stretched and warped until you found yourself throwing not one but two more punches straight into Aonung's disoriented face.

Finally succumbing to the unanticipated onslaught, Aonung faltered under the weight of it all, stumbling and falling on his dumb blue ass with an unceremonious thud.

He looked utterly ridiculous, sprawled across the beach like a fish out of water, his eyes wider than saucers and his mouth agape in sheer bewilderment.

You were so caught up in your victory and the satisfying adrenaline rush that you didn't even register Kiri's voice from behind you, urgently shouting, "Come on, that's enough!"

You had somehow slipped into your own world, built upon cathartic violence, utterly oblivious to the outside stimuli.

Further down the shoreline, the figures of Lo'ak and Neteyam were barely visible as they sprinted toward the scene of the skirmish. But once again, you remained unaffected by their presence and continued to stand your ground, reveling in your well-deserved triumph over Aonung and his ugly arrogance.

With fury still surging through your body, you leaped onto Aonung, who remained rooted to the spot and utterly petrified by the suddenness of your attack.

In one swift motion, you seized hold of his queue with a forceful grip, the fingers of your other hand coiling into a fist as you readied yourself to pummel him once more. A sense of sadistic humor coursed through your veins as you imagined the damage you could inflict.

However, just as your fist was about to make contact, you felt a strong set of hands grabbing onto your arms.

With surprising ease, you were lifted up and away from Aonung's body, leaving you momentarily disoriented.

As your vision cleared, you came to the realization that it was none other than Neteyam who had thwarted your assault and, with his characteristic swiftness, managed to usher you back onto your feet.

However, as far as you were concerned, the fight was not over; if anything, being interrupted had only stoked the flames of your anger toward that insufferable little skxawng even further.

You struggled in Neteyam's unyielding grasp, unleashing a fierce snarl as you reached out helplessly toward Aonung again.

"Just ten more seconds," you thought to yourself.

That's how little time it would take for you to mete out the sweet vengeance you so desperately craved.

Amidst this struggle, a trickle of laughter began bubbling up within you. You couldn't quite pinpoint if it was due to the absurdity of the entire situation, suddenly bordering on comedic, or simply because you knew what would happen if you managed to break free from Neteyam's hold.

But alas, Neteyam showed little inclination to release his irritated captive as he attempted to prevent an all-out brawl.

"Mawey, y/n. Mawey," Neteyam pleaded softly in your ear, altering his grip from your flailing arms to around your waist, essentially hoisting you off your feet and dragging you away from the bruised and battered boy that you remained intent on hurting.

"I will kill him," you hissed menacingly.

Neteyam's grip instantly tightened–he seemed determined to restrain you and prevent any further chaos.

In a low, soothing voice into your ear, he retorted, "No, you won't."

Under normal circumstances, if you had not been quite so consumed by seething rage, you might've noticed the flutters of excitement in the pit of your stomach as Neteyam's velvety voice caressed your ear, sending the heat of his breath tingling down your neck. Alas, you were consumed by unbridled fury.

Meanwhile, back at the center of the conflict, Lo'ak was engaged in a heated exchange with one of Aonung's friends. With an aggressive shove to the chest, Lo'ak sent the kid stumbling backward.

Naturally, this act of provocation led to a retaliatory shove from the offending boy. The tension in the air thickened as another fight seemed imminent.

However, as though summoned by divine intervention (or just sheer nosiness), Jake and Tonowari burst onto the scene from where they had been residing further down the shore. They hastily made their way over to the contentious group–eager to discover what upheaval you all had gotten up to.

You muttered a curse under your breath, knowing that you really stepped in it this time.

Jake had explicitly instructed you and his children to steer clear of trouble, particularly any sort of mischief that might land them all in hot water.

Yet there you were, having done the complete opposite—you'd gone and beat the living daylight out of the chief's son.

Neteyam, well aware of your obvious distress, gently squeezed your waist in a reassuring manner. He looked at you with an air of confidence that somehow assured you everything would be okay. "I'll take care of it," he boldly declared.

As he finally released his reassuring grip on your middle, you couldn't deny how much you immediately missed the warmth and comfort it provided. The sudden void left by the absence of contact struck you like a bucket of cold water on a chilly morning. Shaking your head, you attempted to dismiss those inconvenient thoughts from your mind.

"No," you began with a sigh, exasperation creeping into your tone. "You didn't even do anything."

It was practically Neteyam's full-time job–swooping in like a hero to rescue anyone and everyone, whether it was his brother or his sisters or yourself.

It was as if he just couldn't help himself; he had to take the bullet every single time (yikes). It was both endearing and frustrating in equal measure.

His behavior had to stem from some kind of savior complex—you swore you could see through it all.

You knew the reason behind his rescue missions was simply the immense pressure his father put on him. Being the eldest child in the family, Neteyam bore the weight of his father's expectations on his shoulders every single day.

"It doesn't matter," Neteyam murmured dismissively, cutting off any further attempts at discussion. He slipped in front of you and made his way toward the unfolding scene with determination written all over his face.

Left behind, standing helplessly amidst dust motes that swirled where he once stood mere seconds ago, and your words still trapped halfway up your throat, you couldn't do anything but blink at his retreating back.

Upon returning to the Sully family's marui pod, you, Neteyam, and Lo'ak stood apprehensively as Jake began to furiously pace in front of you.

Lo'ak was clearly pissed off. He clutched his arm with a vice-like grip, attempting to appear wounded.

You nearly rolled your eyes at the sight. With a grin threatening to break across your face, you had to avert your gaze from the boy to avoid making an untimely scene.

You knew that he wasn't injured in the slightest. One of Aonung's friends had barely shoved him moments earlier.

You suspected he was just putting on a show to earn some sympathy from his father and possibly receive a lighter scolding.

In all honesty, Jake shouldn't have had to yell at anyone but you. If Jake were to hold anyone accountable for the recent chaos, it should have been you. After all, you were the one who threw the first punch, dishing out a humble thrashing to Aonung that would undoubtedly give him pause before stirring up trouble again.

Jake continued his relentless pacing back and forth like a caged animal. It was making you dizzy.

The atmosphere in the marui pod was thick with tension as each step echoed ominously throughout the room. Finally, Jake could contain his frustration no longer.

"What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?!" He stopped abruptly and turned to face the trio of teenagers, awaiting a response like a teacher expecting students to provide an answer to their query.

"Stay out of trouble," Lo'ak muttered with an air of resignation. He barely managed to finish uttering those words before Jake was upon you all again with all the vigor and authority of a seasoned marine.

"Stay out of trouble," he repeated mockingly. "Right."

Amidst the palpable tension in the room, Neteyam bravely took a step forward with his hands raised, eager to defuse the situation like the textbook definition of the golden child that he was.

Clearing his throat, he began, "It was my fault—" But Jake was unyielding. He was not having any of that bullshit.

Infuriated by the mere thought of Neteyam trying to shoulder the blame when it clearly wasn't his mess to carry, Jake cut him off with a fiery glare.

"Oh, I don't think so," Jake chided, pointing a finger at Neteyam.

The sudden shift in energy made Neteyam visibly gulp. He sucked in his cheeks and averted his gaze, quickly realizing that retreat was his best course of action.

"You gotta stop taking the heat for these knuckleheads!" Jake continued. With that said, he pointed his accusatory finger at you and Lo'ak.

Lo'ak's eyebrows shot up and furrowed, causing deep creases between them, as his mouth hung open in disbelief at being pigeonholed as the troublemaker.

He was fully aware that he hadn't been the one behind the afternoon's events–not this time around anyway, as surprising as it may have seemed.

You, too, were fully aware that Lo'ak didn't instigate the fight. You weren't about to let him take the heat for your own misbehavior.

You quickly extended a protective hand in front of Lo'ak, meeting his eye before turning back to face Jake.

"No, Lo'ak had nothing to do with this. It was my fault, seriously. I started it." You admitted.

Jake's eyes shut tight upon hearing your confession, and he expelled an exasperated sigh, heavy with frustration. Deep down, you knew that you were about to get it.

"y/n," he began, finally opening his eyes and turning his full attention towards you with an air of bewilderment. "You got some good hits in, I'll give you that," He paused momentarily before continuing with a mixture of astonishment and disappointment in his voice, "But the chief's son? Do you have any idea what Tonowari could've done to us? What the hell were you thinking, kid?"

You visibly winced as Jake's words hit you like a ton of bricks. He definitely had a valid point there.

The truth was that you hadn't been thinking—not one bit.

All you could recall was Aonung taunting Kiri without an ounce of remorse and then getting all up in your personal space like he had the right to. That was enough for you to see nothing but red.

In that heated moment, the thought of potential consequences flew right over your head. It was as though any semblance of logic had temporarily eluded you.

As you mentally retraced the earlier events that had unfolded before your eyes, you finally dwelled on the severity of the situation.

You didn't consider how your reckless actions could have jeopardized not only your own safety but also that of the Sullys, potentially resulting in their sudden eviction from their newfound home—a home they had fought so hard to earn a place in.

The full gravity of your reckless act hung heavily on your shoulders, like an enormous boulder strapped to your back.

"I'm really sorry, sir," you uttered with undeniable sincerity in your tone.

You tried to maintain eye contact with Jake, but the guilt in your stomach compelled you to anxiously dart your gaze away. The overwhelming shame gnawed at your conscience relentlessly.

Jake, sensing your unease, heaved a heavy sigh once again.

It wasn't lost on you that Jake was treating you far more gently than he would have treated either of his own sons had they been in this situation. This realization only doubled the weight on your shoulders.

At that moment, you felt like an unwanted appendix to their family unit—a burden they never should have taken in.

They didn't have to offer you a place in their home after your parents' deaths, nor did they have to take you with them while they sought uturu with the Metkayina. And yet, they did. And how did you repay their boundless generosity? With this…shitshow.

You found yourself longing for Jake's anger and reprimand instead of the current watered-down scolding he was dishing you. But Jake, obstinately persistent as ever, didn't indulge your desire for absolution through shouting.

As if trying to reach out into your thoughts, he leaned down in an attempt to align his gaze with your line of vision. His hope was to establish eye contact and facilitate a genuine conversation.

His attempts proved futile, though, as he failed to catch your darting eyes. Jake's face scrunched with genuine concern.

Delving further into the matter at hand, he gently inquired, "Why'd you hit him, y/n? Did he do something to you?" His brows knitted into a look of utmost concern, clearly desperate for an explanation that could offer a semblance of understanding as to why you went crazy on the chief's son.

The mere thought of the incident was enough to make your blood surge with fury again.

It occurred to you that you hadn't actually filled Neteyam or Lo'ak in on the details of what had transpired before your little scuffle. The three of you had been too busy being unceremoniously dragged back to the marui pod with your tails between your legs.

With clenched fists, you looked down to see your knuckles–red and battered–for the first time since the confrontation.

The visualized memory of your punches landing on Aonung's face brought you a mix of satisfaction and disgust.

"Aonung wouldn't leave Kiri alone," you spat out, a hint of bitter resentment in your tone. "He kept picking on her and called her a freak."

A brief pause allowed another wave of anger to wash over you.

"And then he started being all gross towards me," you continued. "He grabbed my hand, and I just…reflexed... I guess."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Lo'ak snickered at your choice of words, clearly amused by how casually you downplayed the severity with which you'd beat the actual shit out of Aonung.

Lo'ak's joy was short-lived due to the sudden and simultaneous glare from both Jake and Neteyam that pierced straight through his amusement like a sharp spear.

Jake slowly directed his attention back towards you, lowering his tall frame to match your height.

It was a comical sight as he contorted himself into a near-squatting pose. You hesitantly lifted your eyes to meet Jake's, and to your surprise, you found a warm, gentle smile gracing his stern features.

His eyes held pools of gratitude as he gently placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, providing a solid anchor to steady your quivering soul.

"Thank you," Jake said softly, his voice laced with sincere gratitude.

You stared at him in confusion.

Why the hell was Jake thanking you when you almost got them all booted off the island like unwanted baggage?

Searching for an explanation, you let out an involuntary, bewildered "huh?" that accurately represented your current state of mind.

The sheer candidness of your reaction brought forth a chuckle that Jake tried hard to suppress. He seemed bemused by your baffled demeanor and swiftly decided to put an end to the suspense.

"For standing up for my daughter," Jake explained, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "And for putting that little rascal in his rightful place," he added with a smug expression.

Listening to Jake's heartfelt acknowledgment warmed your soul.

Your lips parted as they inched from ear to ear in sync with Jake's own radiant grin, happy that you had stood up for what mattered when it counted the most.

As his words washed over you like a soothing balm, an immaterial weight had seemingly lifted from your chest–one that you hadn't even known had been weighing down on you so heavily until that very moment.

Jake stretched to his full height, puffing out his chest as he authoritatively placed his hands on his hips. He fixed his gaze on his two sons, who exchanged wary glances with each other.

He took a deep breath before delivering his unexpected command.

"Go make peace with Aonung," he said to his boys, nodding firmly as if trying to convince himself of the wisdom of his decision.

Lo'ak's jaw dropped. "What?" he blurted out, his head lurching forward in disbelief.

Jake scowled at Lo'ak's unrestrained backtalk.

You shifted uncomfortably beside Lo'ak, feeling an inexplicable sense of camaraderie. Why should they go make peace with the enemy?

Exasperation danced across Jake's face as he ran a weary hand over it, trying to collect himself for the explanation that was unnecessarily demanded.

"Listen," he began, sounding more than a bit frustrated. "I don't care how you do it. Just go make sure y/n doesn't have to beat up any more of those guys."

Jake did a terrible job of disguising the wide grin that threatened to split his face in half as he glanced back toward you.

You could already tell that you would never live this down.

Neteyam, with a determined expression on his face, nodded firmly at his father's request. "Yes, sir," he replied dutifully.

Lo'ak, however, couldn't have been more displeased, and his disapproval was all too apparent. Neteyam took hold of Lo'ak's arm and practically had to drag him out of the pod.

Jake watched his eldest son in approval, grateful that at least one of his boys was on the same wavelength as him.

With a look of satisfaction, he turned back to you and jerked his head in the direction his two sons had disappeared. "You should go find Kiri," he suggested. "She's by the shore with Neytiri."

You nodded obediently and spun around to exit the pod yourself. But before you managed to get very far, Jake called out to you with a severity that betrayed how truly important he saw your errand.

His facial expression shifted into solemn seriousness. "I mean it, y/n," he insisted. "I appreciate you standing up for my baby girl."

A sad smile played across Jake's features as he added, "She's… she hasn't been having the easiest time adjusting to our new life here."

That fact was not lost on you.

You'd spent countless hours listening attentively to Kiri's impassioned rants about how much she despised their new reef home–a place that just made her feel even more alienated than she did back in the forest.

"Of course," you replied hesitantly, not entirely sure of what else to say in the situation.

It was obvious to anyone who knew you well that you'd risk your life for Kiri's sake in a heartbeat. After all, the minor danger you faced today was absolutely insignificant compared to what you'd do for your friend.

Jake's smile never wavered. He playfully ruffled your hair as if you were a little kid needing reassurance, causing you to let out an exasperated groan. He was such a dad.

"Alright, get outta here," Jake ordered as laughter danced within his voice, his demeanor that of a caring father.

You didn't need to be told twice. You hastily exited the pod while simultaneously trying your best to tame your tousled hair, which now resembled a bird's nest caught in a storm.

Immediately after stepping outside the pod, you noticed Neteyam and Lo'ak still lingering nearby, definitely not 'making peace' with Aonung.

Lo'ak was leaning against the marui pod, wearing an expression that screamed boredom, while Neteyam appeared quite preoccupied.

He practically had the entire side of his head glued to the pod as he clearly tried to eavesdrop on your conversation with Jake.

With a shake of your head, you faced the brothers directly, amusement twinkling in your eyes.

You cleared your throat and shot a sort of 'what the hell?' look at Neteyam, who was quick to whip his head toward you. He backed away from the pod, feigning ignorance.

You narrowed your eyes at him, demanding an explanation with a simple "Um?"

As if on cue, Lo'ak decided that this would be the perfect time to point out the painfully obvious.

"He was trying to listen in on your conversation," he declared as if the revelation would be of immense assistance.

The unwelcome input earned him a fierce glare from Neteyam, who was not at all pleased with his brother's willingness to rat him out.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in exasperation as you regarded the two siblings.

"No shit, Lo'ak." you retorted bitingly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But why?" This time, your probing inquiry was directed squarely at Neteyam as you sought to get to the bottom of his mysterious behavior.

Despite his earlier nonchalance, Neteyam hesitantly stepped forward with newfound concern etched into his expression.

"You said that Aonung grabbed your hand?" He inquired, his eyes a concoction of fury and worry.

You stared at Neteyam because, yes, you had said that already, and he clearly heard you.

"Yes," you replied, your voice flat and unamused.

Neteyam narrowed his eyes and cautiously stepped closer, tilting his head down to lock gazes with you before forging ahead. "And you said he was being gross? Like… he was trying to come onto you?"

The mere memory of Aonung's behavior sent shivers down your spine.

It wasn't the first time that you had been on the receiving end of Aonung's unwelcome advances since arriving on the island, but you could cope with that. The real issue arose when Aonung decided to mess with someone dear to you—someone like Kiri.

A new wave of hatred washed over you at the memory of your encounter.

Despite the brewing storm within your soul, you attempted to shake off Neteyam's concern. You really didn't want to keep thinking about Aonung's sorry fish ass.

"Yes, Neteyam, that's what I said. But it's not a big deal. I was more concerned about Kiri. And I'm actually supposed to be checking on her right now, so…" You widened your eyes, shooting Neteyam a somewhat comical, unimpressed look before attempting to step around him and head off towards the shoreline.

Just as you were about to make your way past him, you felt a hand on your arm, halting your escape. You followed the blue-striped appendage upwards, your eyes finally meeting Neteyam's sheepish expression.

He appeared mortified by his own actions and quickly released his grip on your arm as though he had just touched a burning hot flame.

"S-Sorry," he stammered awkwardly. "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that after… he… agh!… Sorry."

He was quick to apologize, wincing at his misstep, and the regret in his voice was palpable. He stumbled over his words like someone trudging through the densest of forests.

You rolled your eyes at Neteyam's sudden hesitance to lay a finger on you—he was never weary about touching you.

It was evident that he was attempting to be considerate after you had just given Aonung a thorough beating for having the audacity to grab your hand. Nonetheless, in your perspective, there was a world of difference between Aonung's intrusive touch and Neteyam's gentle one.

Feeling the need to clarify the situation, you addressed Neteyam and reassured him with a lighthearted tone, "You're allowed to touch me, 'Teyam."

Observing his reaction, you grinned at the burst of relief that spread across his face. He let out a hasty exhale that almost sounded like a muted sigh, lively nodding along to your comforting words.

Beside him, Lo'ak, who had still been casually leaning against the side of the hut, let out a snort that echoed through the air.

"Gross," he scoffed with an exaggerated grimace on his face.

Pushing off the hut, he strode towards Neteyam, the mischievous glint in his eyes combined with his devilish grin betraying his intentions.

"You're allowed to touch me whenever you want, 'Teyam," Lo'ak teased in a ridiculous falsetto as he approached Neteyam from behind.

With an exaggerated flair, he reached out and squeezed his brother's arms in a sarcastic display of affection. His lips formed an overly dramatic pout as he pushed them in Neteyam's direction.

The moment barely lasted before Lo'ak folded over in a fit of laughter, clearly amused by his own antics. His cheeky grin spread from ear to ear as he struggled to catch his breath between guffaws.

Neteyam was not as amused.

With narrowed eyes and a sour expression, he tried not to relent to Lo'ak's antics. His patience wore thin until he finally let out an irritated hiss directly at Lo'ak, who was still bent over laughing.

In an attempt to regain some dignity and escape Lo'ak's relentless teasing, Neteyam shoved him away, sending him stumbling several feet back in the process.

As Neteyam struggled to compose himself after being put on display for your amusement due to the constant tormenting of his mischief mongerer of a brother, a deep shade of purple bloomed across his cheeks–evidence of his mixed feelings of embarrassment and annoyance.

It was obvious that he was trying hard not to lose his composure over the incident.

To avoid any further humiliation from the spectacle, Neteyam shook his head and directed his gaze away from you–seeking solace in staring intently at anything else but you.

A blush crept up your face, the hue coordinating with Neteyam's purpling cheeks.

You did not sound like that.

Desperate to distract yourself from the situation, you decided to change your focus to the little jokester, who was still laughing at his brother. You feigned an abrupt lunge toward him.

Lo'ak, completely caught off guard, flinched embarrassingly hard and muttered a terrified 'shit' under his breath.

You shook your head at his overreaction, pushing past the suddenly skittish Lo'ak, who swiftly hid behind his brother in fear.

Ignoring the commotion behind you, you focused on moving toward the shore to find Kiri.

As you made your way towards the water's edge, you called over your shoulder with a cunning grin, "Let me know if Aonung has one, or two black eyes." You teased with a smirk playing at your lips, the playful taunt drifting off into the air as you walked away.

Lo'ak shook his head incredulously at your retreating figure before turning back to Neteyam, who was still sporting a deep blush from ear to ear.

Lo'ak just couldn't help himself.

"Bro. Your girlfriend is scary as fuck." Lo'ak said with a shudder, nudging Neteyam in the ribs as if to underscore his point. Despite the teasing tone, there was a hint of genuine fright in his voice.

Neteyam started to form a reply, "She's not—," but he caught himself, letting out an exasperated groan instead.

Thoroughly annoyed by his brother's relentless poking into his… whatever it was he had with you, he decided it was time for a little distance. With a quick shove to get Lo'ak off him, Neteyam moved away with purpose, intent on finding Aonung and getting the whole thing over with.

Naturally, Lo'ak was not one to accept defeat so easily. Hastily regaining his balance, he broke into a light jog and quickly caught up to Neteyam's side.

The playful smirk on Lo'ak's face betrayed the fact that he wasn't quite ready to let the situation go.

"She's not what?" Lo'ak inquired, feigning innocence but definitely not done being a little shit. "Not your girlfriend, or not scary? 'Cause I'm pretty sure she's at least one of those."

The corners of Neteyam's mouth threatened to betray a grin at the absurdity of the conversation.

Instead of acknowledgment, though, he fixed a determined glare at Lo'ak, hoping that if he couldn't escape through physical distance, maybe stony silence would do the trick.

Despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor, Neteyam found himself battling an internal storm as he recalled the day's events.

Before his awkward fumble with you, he had been trying to decipher what had transpired between you and Aonung on the beach. He wanted to know what could have provoked you enough to attack Aonung the way you did.

As you recounted the events to him earlier, you confessed that Aonung had invaded your personal space, said gross things to you, and even gone as far as grabbing your hand unprovoked.

The mere thought of that skxawng purposefully making you uncomfortable boiled Neteyam's blood. He felt the rage surge within him.

On the outside looking in, it was plain as day that you and Neteyam shared a close bond–you were best friends through and through.

And yet, that knowledge did little to quell the overpowering sense of possessiveness that engulfed Neteyam at the thought of another guy trying to woo you.

Undoubtedly, you were remarkably beautiful; anyone with eyes could see that.

Neteyam was allowed to think of his best friend as beautiful.

It was more than just your physical allure, though. You were so passionate about everything you held dear. Your closest friends, the group of orphaned children that you looked after back in the forest–you cared for them all with burning intensity.

Your dedication to your warrior training was unmatched, even by Neteyam himself. You strived fiercely to master every skill and overcome each challenge in your path. Even your penchant for engaging in spirited conversations about the most random, mundane day-to-day things–you were an enigma that never ceased to captivate.

Coupled with a genuinely warm heart and a razor-sharp wit, you instantaneously charmed anyone in your presence. Your fiery temperament often erupted when things heated up, making it clear that you were never one to back down from a challenge–an attribute Neteyam secretly cherished.

If anything, you seemed too cool for someone like him. And yet, he couldn't help but find himself utterly enamored with every aspect of your character.

There wasn't a thing that he disliked about you.

However, all those emotions were normal because you and he were friends. It was only natural for him to appreciate the characteristics that made you who you were.

And, of course, others admired those same traits in you too, which was exactly why you had such a large circle of friends. Even other guy-friends.

Like his brother, for example.

It was okay that Neteyam felt a little more than just a twinge of jealousy when he’d notice Lo'ak being extra touchy with you. When he'd grab your wrist and go all mushy trying to convince you to re-braid his hair or re-shave the side of his head, knowing that you'd be gentler while doing so than Neytiri typically was.

Or when Lo'ak would virtually throw himself on top of you, insisting on sharing a hammock just because you managed to snatch the last vacant one.

And you would give in to him every single time, despite your feigned annoyance, because you were just that kind of person.

Though Neteyam gritted his teeth at you two in silent disapproval, he repeatedly convinced himself that it was entirely within the bounds of how two friends were allowed to act. You choosing to share a hammock with Lo'ak was just a good-natured deed from someone who looked out for the best interests of their friends. Nothing more than innocent camaraderie.

His blood boiled on another level when he heard that Aonung had laid a hand on you.

But surely, he thought, that feeling of burning rage encapsulating his heart was nothing more than the completely wholesome, totally platonic loyalty and devotion one naturally felt for their best friend.

That was what normal platonic friendships were all about, right?

With a sudden, fluid motion, Lo'ak interrupted Neteyam's mental meanderings by waving a hand in front of his face.

Lo'ak couldn't help but chuckle at the bizarre sight before him. It looked like Neteyam was trying to mentally communicate with an invisible force.

Addressing his brother with a bemused look, Lo'ak asked, "Bro, are you good? You looked like you were having a stroke or something."

Neteyam blinked a few times before the reality of the situation dawned on him.

In truth, Neteyam thought that no, he probably wasn't anywhere close to being okay. He was probably definitely teetering on the edge of an existential crisis centered around his best friend.

Due to the current turmoil raging in his mind, speech was an almost impossible feat for Neteyam to achieve; instead, a cascade of words just kind of tumbled out without any consultation from his overwhelmed brain.

"What do you…I mean, y/n? How do you see her?" stammered Neteyam, catching Lo'ak completely off guard.

Well, maybe not completely.

Lo'ak wasn't surprised to find that Neteyam was thinking about you. There was seemingly no waking moment where you weren't occupying some corner of his thoughts.

Despite this knowledge, it still struck Lo'ak as strange that Neteyam would suddenly ask him about you as if they regularly talked about stuff like girls together.

Lo'ak's eyebrow arched upward in an unmistakable display of confusion. "What do you mean, how do I see y/n?" He asked, genuinely baffled by the seemingly random question.

Neteyam, typically stoic and composed, responded with an unceremonious shrug.

It was an odd departure from his usual tall stance and confident posture–a constant reminder to all that he was the epitome of the perfect warrior son.

But this time, Neteyam couldn't quite meet Lo'ak's gaze directly. Instead of meeting Lo'ak with his usual steadfastness, Neteyam's eyes wandered down toward the ground between them as though the answer to his question was lying somewhere in the dusty sand.

Grumbling under his breath, Neteyam muttered, "I mean. Do you see her as a sister, or just a friend, or…. something more, I guess?" His words trailed off, uncertainty permeating every syllable.

Momentarily taken aback by the probing question, Lo'ak fell silent for a few seconds as he mulled over the implications of Neteyam's question.

Sure, Lo'ak thought you were cool–no dispute there–and you and he were definitely friends. Maybe not as tightly knit as you were with Neteyam or Kiri, but you and Lo'ak still shared a fair share of bonding moments.

You would often join Lo'ak and Spider on their daring expeditions into the heart of the forest–a pastime you all knew would've been strictly forbidden if Neteyam had ever found out.

There was no denying that Lo'ak definitely cared about you; maybe it wasn't the same affection one might have for a sister (he'd be lying to himself if he said that he didn't think y/n was attractive). Still, it wasn't exactly in the realm of romance either.

Lo'ak knew all too well that Neteyam would skin him alive if he even thought about liking you in that way.

The mental image of Neteyam's incensed reaction brought forth an involuntary snicker from Lo'ak.

Neteyam noticed his brother's amusement and responded with a furrowed brow, clearly unimpressed by whatever had caused Lo'ak to laugh. His expression was stern and moody, prompting Lo'ak to quickly alleviate any suspicions Neteyam might have formed.

"y/n is my friend. You already know that." He reassured his older brother, "She grew up with us."

Neteyam slowly nodded his head, not entirely convinced but willing to let the matter slide for now. However, his gaze seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there were thoughts weighing heavily on his mind.

His eyes glazed over ever so slightly as he retreated further into his own mind, leaving an eerie silence hanging between them.

After the silence stretched between them for a few tense seconds too long, it became apparent that Neteyam wouldn't divulge whatever was troubling him without some prodding on Lo'ak's part.

With an exaggerated sigh for dramatic effect and a hint of mischievous humor twinkling in his eyes, Lo'ak decided to press further.

"Alright then," he began nonchalantly, "since we're already on the subject… how do you see y/n?" He couldn't resist adding a teasing tone as he posed the question.

Upon hearing the question, Neteyam instantly stiffened, his head tilting downward in a reflexive motion that allowed his braids to form a protective curtain over his face.

That particular mannerism was all too familiar to Lo'ak, who had observed his brother resort to the same tactic countless times as a defensive response.

With a quick shrug, Neteyam muttered out a barely audible and very unconvincing, "I don't know."

Lo'ak narrowed his eyes at his brother's feeble attempt at nonchalance, not buying into the performance at all. He'd known for a while about the depth of Neteyam's feelings towards you–clearly way more than just friendly affection.

The truth grew glaringly obvious with each passing day; however, Lo'ak had been aware of the emotional connection for years.

"Yeah, that's bullshit," Lo'ak responded, shaking his head at his brother's clear dodge. "You wouldn't have asked me if you didn't know."

Neteyam released a frustrated sigh tinged with annoyance at how effortlessly his brother could read him.

Their mother often warned Neteyam that he wore his heart on his sleeve and couldn't mask his emotions if he tried. She knew this because Neteyam was like a carbon copy of herself. Those words had always frightened him—being exposed like that—but deep down, he knew she was right.

Neteyam had a conflicted look on his face as he hesitantly shared his thoughts with his brother.

"I think I see y/n differently," Neteyam confessed, his words shrouded in ambiguity.

Lo'ak, despite the vagueness of the statement, nodded slowly, urging his brother to elaborate.

Neteyam somehow found the courage to continue. "I probably think about her too much to say I see her as just a friend. Definitely not like a sister either," he added with a grimace, visibly repulsed by the thought as he shook his head.

Lo'ak laughed at Neteyam's reaction, provoking a playful, yet forceful shove from his brother.

Regaining his balance after the mild assault, Lo'ak clasped a hand onto Neteyam's shoulder with a lighthearted grin.

"You should really tell her, bro," he suggested earnestly.

Neteyam's eyes widened in alarm at the proposal, and he instinctively whirled his head in his brother's direction.

In doing so, his braids followed suit with their own whipping motion.

Lo'ak narrowly dodged the unexpected barrage of hair, squinting his eyes and leaning away just in time.

"Or not…" he mumbled, lowering his voice as he witnessed the sheer panic etched across Neteyam's face.

Neteyam shook his head vehemently, unable to understand how Lo'ak could actually propose such an insane idea.

"No way. Y/n doesn't think of me like that," he adamantly stated.

And really, how could you? The bond between you and Neteyam stretched back as far as either of you could remember—inseparable partners in mischief and life.

You grew up side by side, practically joined at the hip; you were a constant presence in his life. You'd seen each other through thick and thin, weathered all of life's storms together. You'd stood by him through every uneven haircut and awkward phase he went through, a true testament to your unwavering friendship.

He vividly remembered how when he was thirteen, you were the shoulder he leaned on after receiving a particularly harsh scolding from his father. You'd enfolded him in your arms, even as hot tears trailed down his cheeks and onto your hair. The sheer agony and embarrassment of it all seemed insurmountable at the time, but somehow your reassuring embrace made it bearable.

In recent times, you had borne witness to Neteyam's continual fumbles in your presence.

More often than not, they ended with him stumbling over his words around you, or being caught staring at you, or going all flustered when you'd make eye contact with him.

It was genuinely sad.

But above all else, Neteyam didn't even have the title of future olo'eyktan anymore since their move to the reef. Now he was just Neteyam.

Nothing more. Nothing special. With so many other potential suitors living on Pandora, all eager to win your favor and heart, why would you settle for him?

Lo'ak stared at his brother with a deadpan expression, evenly poised between amusement and annoyance. "I really can't tell if you're just trying to be humble or if you're actually that stupid," he said, his voice genuine.

He paused for a moment, taking in the affronted expression on Neteyam's face, before continuing. "I mean, come on! You're obviously in love with y/n, and y/n is obviously in love with you, so… what's the big issue here?"

Neteyam's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he prepared to assure Lo'ak that you were definitely not in love with him, but before he could get a word out of his dumbstruck mouth, the sound of rustling leaves and light footsteps interrupted their conversation.

Both brothers froze, ears perking up in attention as they caught the unmistakable chime of a familiar giggle.

Out from the protective confines of a low-hanging bunch of leaves came their little sister, a mischievous grin plastered on her tiny face.

"I knew it!" sang Tuk in a teasing melody as she skipped towards Neteyam and grasped his arm with a vice-like grip.

Jumping up and down with seemingly boundless energy, she reveled in her newly discovered knowledge.

Neteyam's heart dropped like a stone when he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. His little sister was about as adept at keeping secrets as he was. Which wasn't good at all. Which meant that Neteyam was screwed.

He frantically attempted to shake his head 'no,' engaging in a futile bid to persuade his already-convinced sister of his supposed indifference towards you.

Overwhelmed by desperation, Neteyam tried to stifle Tuk's excitement by shushing her vigorously. "No, no, no. It's not like that, Tuk," he pleaded.

Neteyam gently placed his hand on Tuk's head, trying to still her bounciness.

She reluctantly stopped bouncing but couldn't wipe the enormous grin off her face, as if she had just discovered the world's biggest secret.

"Lo'ak is right!" Tuk exclaimed with glee. "You need to tell y/n that you're in love with her! Then you both can become mated, just like mom and dad! And after that, you can have a whole bunch of little kids like they did with us! You can name one of them after me!"

Lo'ak, who was standing nearby, stifled a snort at how eagerly and confidently Tuk had outlined Neteyam's entire life trajectory in a matter of seconds. He smirked as he watched Neteyam's reaction to their sister's wild imagination.

In stark contrast to Tuk's excitement, Neteyam's face glowed in embarrassment, caught completely off guard by the talk about him mating and having kids with you.

Determined to regain control of the conversation, Neteyam firmly placed his other hand on Tuk's shoulder and bent down a little so that he could look directly into her eyes.

Addressing her in the most serious tone he could muster, he stated: "Tuk, listen closely—I never said I was in love with y/n."

However, Tuk was unfazed by his denial and abruptly interrupted him.

With all the assertiveness a tiny eight-year-old could muster, she poked her small finger firmly into Neteyam's chest. Her eyes gleaming with mischief and a cheeky smile plastered on her face, she said slowly and with complete certainty, "But you are in love with her."

Letting out a long, exasperated sigh, Neteyam found he lacked the energy to even dispute Tuk's assertion. He'd never been much of a convincing liar anyway.

Instead, he decided to go for a different tactic by gently placing both of his hands on her shoulders and adopting a serious expression.

"You are not going to tell anyone about any of what you think you heard."

He put particular emphasis on the word 'think,' giving his sister a significant nod as though that would somehow engrain the words into her stubborn little mind.

"And especially not y/n," he quickly added, feeling his heart beat just a little faster at the thought of you discovering the alleged secret in such an embarrassingly unfortunate way.

Tuk dramatically rolled her eyes, evidently disgruntled by the unfair reality that she'd be unable to freely broadcast each and every one of her thoughts to anyone within earshot.

Still, she begrudgingly muttered her acquiescence with an insincere "Fine."

Yet, it was clear that she was still unhappy with the deal when she pointedly avoided meeting Neteyam's gaze while uttering her reluctant agreement.

Neteyam refused to take any chances with his sister.

He recognized the profound influence he had on Tuk as a sort of second father figure, but this only seemed to take effect when he adopted a grave demeanor.

Looking into her eyes with an air of utmost sincerity, he raised a finger and pointed it to her chest. His voice took on a more commanding tone, though only marginally harsher.

"I mean it, Tuk. Do you swear?" he inquired, extending his smallest finger in their customary gesture signifying an unbreakable promise.

The ritual dated back to their childhood days and had been passed down by their father.

For siblings Neteyam and Tuk, it symbolized the sacred bond between them. Tuk knew all too well that once she linked fingers with her brother, backing down was out of the question.

Upon seeing Neteyam's extended digit, she furrowed her brow in consternation.

She couldn't shake the memory of her other brother's vivid warning: Lo'ak had once gravely warned her that hundreds of little bugs would crawl into her ears in her sleep if a pinky promise were ever broken.

Sighing with visible reluctance, she hooked her small finger around Neteyam's larger one and mumbled an almost inaudible "I swear."

Neteyam's face immediately broke into a beaming smile upon hearing those decisive words. Breathing a sigh of relief as if he'd just prevented an impending catastrophe, he affectionately patted his sister on the head before straightening up to his full height, standing tall like a proud winner.

Crisis averted, he thought, though his mind continually strayed back to thoughts of you.

Deep down, he knew that the situation he found himself in was anything but over.

Next Part Here

[luneengene2]

The Emperor's Choice

• Pairings : emperor!leehan x fem!reader

• Synopsis : (Empire AU) Your father intends to matchmake your sister with the young Emperor who was just crowned a few months ago. Oh of course your father chose your older sister, because your older sister is his legitimate daughter, while you? You are just the Illegitimate child of his deceased former concubine, aka your mother. After all, there was no way an Emperor would choose an illegitimate daughter? He would want the best Empress Consort for his empire. But, what would happen if the young emperor chose you to be his future empress? Something you never expected.

• Words Count : 4000+

• Warnings : Ft IVE Wonyoung, ZEROBASEONE Gunwook, The practice of concubinage, Violence of a father, injustice in the family, status insults, SHORT SMUT CONTENT (ass slapping, creampie, make-out), grammar errors. Tell me if I missed anything.

• Notes : Hard & Soft Thought (For all idols, soloists, actresses & actors, Fictional characters whether in Korean dramas, western films or novels or anything), and requests (Only for the groups I listed in the masterlist) ARE OPEN!

"I don't want to marry Emperor Donghyun, father! I already have a lover!" Your older sister, Wonyoung, stared at your father in frustration. She had been crying for days because of your father's ego. Even though this family has a high status, Wonyoung never wanted to marry a fellow noble, let alone the Emperor. She wanted to live a 'normal life' after getting married. Her lover is a commoner who doesn't even have aristocratic status in society. However, because of your father's ambition, he would never let Wonyoung marry a commoner. Moreover, Wonyoung is his legitimate daughter who is quite 'sought' after by high-class nobles. He used the opportunity to further enter the circles of government and power of the Empire.

Because of his crazy ambition in government, Wonyoung was also successful in being included in the list of prospective daughter-in-law by the queen mother, aka the mother of Emperor Donghyun. The queen mother is also the most insistent on meeting Wonyoung in person in the near future. She also seems to have made Wonyoung her top choice. Mr. Jang, aka your father, was so sure that Wonyoung would be the one chosen for her son.

Your father made Wonyoung a 'tool' so that he could become the prime minister of this empire easily without any obstacles whatsoever. This very unhealthy desire and ambition is also fully supported by Mrs. Jang, aka Wonyoung's mother. He wanted to see his daughter become an empress and become the center of attention of the empire. She also wanted to be labeled as the empress's mother and see her blood become an Emperor. It was the highest honor, any noble would want it.

"Stop being rebellious, Wonyoung! I only want the best for you! Leave your low-class lover and try to get Emperor Donghyun's attention!" Mr Jang glared at his daughter. And of course, Wonyoung was never afraid of that, since she was little she was not an obedient daughter. Even so, but she is the one whose future is most cared for, because she is a legitimate child. Even though you are an obedient child, your father will never treat you and Wonyoung the same. Because the status of your mother and her mother is clearly very different. Your mother was just your father's concubine who was taken to produce a baby boy. But, your mother died after giving birth to you. And not long after, Mrs. Jang successfully became pregnant again and gave birth to a son, who is now the main heir to the Jang family, Gunwook. Making your status even more forgotten, and you are not blind and deaf to know that your father and also Mrs Jang never liked your presence. Especially Mrs Jang, she hates you because you are the daughter of the woman who was your father's concubine. However, you are also lucky to have half-siblings like Wonyoung and Gunwook. They love you very much and treat you very well.

"You never wanted the best for me! You only want your stupid ambition to get the most elite position in this government and empire!" Mrs. Jang pulled her daughter's shoulder to face her. Glaring at her and squeezing her shoulders, he seemed to want to threaten his daughter.

"Follow our orders, Wonyoung. If you don't, we can do the worst to your stupid boyfriend," Wonyoung was weak when her mother used her lover for this threat. Wonyoung had always been weak when it came to her lover.

Behind the door, you only look at Wonyoung's pity which ends up being threatened by her own mother. Even though Wonyoung seemed strict, you knew very well how your older sister was. She is weak in her love for her lover. Of course, she would rather sacrifice than see something bad happen to her lover.

___

You stare in awe from your balcony as you see a line of luxury cars driving into the front yard of your family's manor. The entourage of the Emperor and his mother. Today, your father 'accepted' them to be introduced directly to Wonyoung.

But, you couldn't see that 'great' moment directly, your father forbade you from meeting the Emperor directly. He was afraid that it would worsen the situation, especially since there were many rumors and news that this new young Emperor upheld monogamy. So, you are only allowed to stay in your room until the Emperor returns to the government palace.

A man with long black hair got out of the car in the fourth row. He was the young emperor. You can clearly see how handsome the young emperor is. It makes you very fascinated. You can only see his face on television, magazines, or articles in online media. And he is exactly the same as the one you often see in those three news media. Even more handsome. She looks so dignified. Wonyoung is so lucky if she is directly chosen by the Emperor as his future wife.

Suddenly, Emperor Donghyun's gaze was directed at you who was on the balcony. That was because he was busy looking up at the magnificent building of Jang's manor. As a result, he saw you standing on the balcony. You froze when you realized Emperor Donghyun's gaze was on you, he didn't even take his eyes off you.

Emperor Donghyun, who had been staring blankly without taking his eyes off you, snapped out of his reverie when his mother patted his shoulder to enter the Manor. Mr. and Mrs. Jang gave a warm and respectful welcome to the Empress Mother and the Emperor.

You also snapped out of your frozen position as Emperor Donghyun walked over to your father and Mrs Jang. Before he finally disappeared behind the manor entrance. Sure enough, he was going to start this serious conversation.

You have many mixed thoughts about Wonyoung's arranged marriage. On one hand, you are very happy that she can get the best husband and is being fought for by her father. But on the other hand, you also think about his lover who comes from an ordinary background. If Wonyoung can't go against her parents' wishes, she will experience a tragic love story because she is hindered by her parents' blessing.

___

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Miss Y/N, I came to bring you some afternoon snacks," It was your maid's voice. Normally, you would have gotten your own lunch snack, but since you weren't allowed to leave the room, she was the one who brought it to you.

You, who were busy with your laptop, immediately got out of bed to open the door. The door is open. "Thank-"

"WOOF WOOF!" You glared when your beloved poodle, Bowie, suddenly barked and ran out of your room as you opened the door for your maid. He ran out of the room, making you panic.

"Oh no! Bowie!" You also immediately dashed out of the room, forgetting your father's order that you should not leave the room. And this was all because of Bowie who suddenly came out of your room.

Bowie ran fast down the second floor hallway and would soon reach the stairwell. You even took off your flat shoes to run faster, so you ended up running barefoot.

___

"So how is it? Wonyoung looks perfect when she's with Empe-"

"Bowie stop!" Mr Jang stopped his words when he heard a girl's scream from upstairs, and it made him stare in shock. All eyes, Including the empress, mother were of course immediately directed towards the second floor. Everyone could clearly see you running down the stairs to chase your dog.

Donghyun, the young emperor's gaze was very different when he saw a girl he had seen on the balcony earlier. The gaze was like worship (?). And that gaze was noticed by Wonyoung, which actually made Wonyoung grin widely. She seemed to have a big plan.

"Bo-AAA!" You let out a loud scream as your foot suddenly slipped from the fifth stair from the bottom. And you could tell that your body would be on the ground in a matter of seconds.

"Y/N!" Wonyoung screamed hysterically when she saw that her sister would be in trouble in less than ten seconds.

And before your body hit the floor, someone swiftly caught your body and hugged you tightly. Donghyun. Making everyone there hold their breath heavily, including your father and Mrs. Jang. Gunwook was even slower than Donghyun when he tried to catch you too.

You widened your eyes when you realized whose arms you had fallen into. The arms of a young emperor who might soon become your brother-in-law.

You hurriedly let go of his hug, bowing repeatedly and apologizing. "Forgive me, Majesty! I am truly sorry for being rude to you! Forgive me! Please forgive me!" You said in a voice that was shaking with fear, because you were afraid that this would offend Donghyun.

"Stop that!" Donghyun held your shoulders tightly as you continued to hunch over, even though your leg must be in extreme pain from the sprain. "Are you okay?" Donghyun asked with concern, as did his gaze. You didn't answer his question, making him take action again. He slowly made you sit on the stairs, taking your feet to put on his lap. And of course that made you pull your feet off his lap. "M-Majesty, what are you doing?" You asked in a horrified tone.

"Be quiet, I'm trying to make your leg better. Get me some olive oil!" He ordered the people around him, but no one would move, including Wonyoung and Gunwook. "Do you hear me? I need olive oil! Get it now!" Wonyoung immediately responded to the firm tone. She hurriedly took out the olive oil and gave it to him.

Donghyun slowly massaged your leg and 'fixed' the position of your veins. He understood this technique, because it was one of the survival methods he learned in the military. You winced and squealed a few times because of it, but the results were actually very good.

"Are you better?" Donghyun looked up and looked at you softly, you nodded. You were sure, if only you and him were in this room, he could hear clearly how your heart was beating faster. Wonyoung and Gunwook who were standing next to each other immediately exchanged glances and grinned. Especially Wonyoung, she was sure that Donghyun seemed more interested in his sister than her.

"Majesty-"

"What's your name?" Donghyun cut you off, he immediately asked about your name. So curious about the name of the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Y/N," You answered immediately, Donghyun smiled sweetly when he heard your name. If you are sensitive, he is very interested in you.

"Are you the daughter of the Jang family?”

"No, Majesty. She is just our family maid and-"

"Yes, she is the daughter of the Jang family. She is my sister and Gunwook's sister, but we have different mothers," Wonyoung cut off her father's words sharply when he admitted that you were a maid, not his daughter. Mr. and Mrs. Jang immediately stared sharply at their first child. Mr Jang also immediately became tense when he received unpleasant looks from the Empress Dowager and Emperor Donghyun.

"Why do you say your own daughter is a maid? This is a despicable act, Mr. Jang," Donghyun stared blankly at Mr. Jang, completely disliking what he said. From the way he spoke and what he said, Donghyun could immediately tell that Mr Jang was not a good person and father.

"Ah, that's not it, Majesty. Her late mother was just my concubine, so she's not really my daughter." You let out a harsh breath as your father said that reason. You were used to being treated unfairly like this. It was like your daily food.

"Are you insane? In the Imperial environment, my grandfather's grandchildren who are direct descendants of his concubines are legally recognized by the Empire. They can even get treatment like the grandchildren of an Emperor. They are still respected even though my grandfather has passed away. Their grandmother, who was my grandfather's concubine, was still respected by the Empire and the people. And you? You are a noble, but you are not responsible for what you take. If you choose to have a concubine, then you must be responsible for the child of your concubine. There is no need to have a concubine if you are not capable of carrying out the responsibilities you want, like my late father. My father was faithful to my mother, he practiced monogamy because he was not strong enough to 'take care of' a concubine. I should punish you for your irresponsible attitude towards your own child," Emperor Donghyun's words successfully made Mr and Mrs Jang stare in shock. Emperor Donghyun openly wanted to punish them for what they did. Their actions are like abandoning the children in their own family.

"But because you are the father of my future wife, so I forgive what you did. I don't want my future wife to walk down the aisle without her father," Donghyun's words immediately made Mr. Jang smile again after being tense for a few seconds.

"Majesty, so you want my Wonyoung to be your-"

"Not Wonyoung, but Y/N,"

Silence. Everyone was silent after what the young emperor said. Including you. Your face was shocked, pale, and made your tongue numb to speak. He chose you. You heard that right.

"Majesty, we are presenting Wonyoung, not the daughter of my husband's concubine. An illegitimate child has no right to the position of empress," Mrs Jang felt that she could not accept it. She wanted the label of being the Empress' mother for her, not for her late husband's concubine. She wanted her daughter to sit on the throne as the consort of an emperor, not the child of a concubine.

"Who said that, ma'am?” Donghyun asked coldly, he stood up from his squatting position to face the Jang husband and wife directly. "There is nothing wrong with her being my empress. It is not her fault that she was born from a concubine. If the people can love me, they will be able to love my empress regardless of whose daughter she is,"

Wonyoung felt like screaming with joy at that moment. Her beloved sister could now get a happiness that she never got. Wonyoung, she doesn't need to leave her love.

"Majesty, no,” you slowly stood up from your sitting position slowly. Making Donghyun look back at you. "I don't want to take away what my sister deserves. Wonyoung's mother was right, an illegitimate child had no right to the position of empress," Donghyun smiled, he walked closer to you. His hand reached out to stroke your hair, he looked like he was really in love with you.

"You deserve what your sister gets. You and her are the same, both of you are your father's daughters even though you were born from different mothers. I chose you because I know you deserve the position, I know you can be a good mother for my children in the future. The most important thing is that my heart's choice is definitely the best. I choose you with my heart and feelings," Donghyun said softly. You shook your head, wanting to say something, but Donghyun immediately cut you off (again).

"Look at Wonyoung, she looks happy with what you're going to get," You turned to Wonyoung, and sure enough. She was smiling brightly and looked very happy, the look in her eyes couldn't lie. She is genuinely happy with what you get, not jealous. Not only Wonyoung, Gunwook also couldn't help but look happy. Maybe they felt, soon you will be out of hell. Aka from the clutches of their parents.

"Majesty, give Emperor Donghyun an understanding. You know this is wrong,” Mrs Jang approached the Empress Mother who looked calm even though she had initially looked shocked. The Empress Mother Kim turned to Madam Jang, smiling faintly. "What do you mean by 'wrong'? There is nothing wrong with my son choosing what he wants. Why should I give him an understanding? I always support what he chooses, I know. What my son chooses must be the best. I trust in his choice," Mrs. Jang felt like going berserk right then and there, her gaze was so full of hatred towards you.

"Refusing what the Emperor wants is an insult to him, Sissy. His wishes are good, he wants to give you happiness," Wonyoung gives you words of encouragement so that you don't back down. You were silent, confused about what to say. All the different gazes were directed at you. And what you fear most is the hateful gazes of your father and Mrs Jang.

"Guards!" Donghyun signaled his bodyguard. A bodyguard in formal attire approached Donghyun with a medium-sized and wide box. Donghyun opened the box, holding up a tiara that was so beautiful and so pretty. The tiara must have looked very expensive. And you know what tiara it is. The Heart's Desire Tiara. The tiara was used by male heirs to the throne or emperors almost hundreds of years ago to propose to their future wives. One of the most historic collections of jewelry in the Empire. This is a unique tradition, because usually the proposal is done by exchanging rings or giving rings only. But this gives a tiara to the future Empress of the Emperor.

Slowly, the beautiful tiara landed on your head. You were even more shocked when your head was wearing such a beautiful Tiara. This was the first time you had worn a tiara. And it was also a historic tiara. Donghyun took your hand too, he put a diamond ring on your ring finger, and kissed it.

"My future empress, welcome to the empty space of my heart," Donghyun whispered softly in your ear, then gave a quick kiss on your cheek.

___

"You! You damn bitch!"

"MOTHER!" Wonyoung immediately blocked you from her mother's anger, she glared at her own mother. "Don't be crazy, Y/N is now under the protection of the empire. If she gets even the slightest scratch, Emperor Donghyun could kill us right now," You shed your tears in Wonyoung's arms, your older sister held you tightly so that you would not be reached by her mother's anger.

"Emperor Donghyun wouldn't know if she didn't tell him! Besides, aren't you mad, Wonyoung?! This girl took away your golden opportunity!" Wonyoung smiled bitterly, she was so sick of this damn poisonous ambition. "I'll tell him if you dare to hurt her, mother!"

"Jang Wonyoung! How dare you threaten your mother?!"

"Shut up you old man! This time I won't let you ruin my sister's golden opportunity! I won't keep quiet any longer if you keep forcing me to follow your bastard ambitions! I will not stand by any longer as you try to destroy what my sister has achieved. Remember your status here, in a matter of months you will be the ones bowing down to her," Mr. Jang couldn't believe it, his eldest daughter, whom he had prepared for this position, actually didn't want to and chose to support you, who he felt had no right to a high position.

___

Emperor Donghyun stared in horror at a news article online in the morning. He had just woken up and was already presented with news like this, news that made his blood boil at six in the morning.

Head of Jang Family Beats His Youngest Daughter in Public

Just reading the news headline was enough to make Donghyun furious. He immediately read the contents of the article which had just been published less than five minutes ago.

Paparazzi cameras caught Mr. Jang hitting his daughter after they both just came out of the supermarket. The witness said the reason Mr. Jang hit his daughter was because they had had a sharp and fierce argument.

Miss Jang Y/N is the future wife of Emperor Donghyun, they will be married in a few months. The government and Imperial Security have not commented on this matter. The Empire's legal team has also not commented on this matter. The violence that the future Empress received should not be tolerated. Moreover, Miss Jang Y/N is already under the Imperial security, and the Empire has full responsibility for her security.

Mr Jang could be in trouble because he not only hit his daughter, but hit a future Empress who is fully protected by the Empire.

Donghyun squeezed the iPad in his hand tightly, he clicked on a video showing his future father-in-law's antics. In the video, he could clearly see, Mr. Jang hit you and pushed you down onto the asphalt. He also saw clearly how your body was forced to get up and then roughly pulled to get into the car.

Donghyun got up from his sitting position and opened his room door roughly. Never mind that he would make a mess in the morning. The crazy news was enough to make him furious, he might as well make a mess now.

"Mr. Hwangbo! Mr. Hwangbo! come before me right now!" Donghyun's thunderous scream could wake anyone up from their sleep. Just imagine, the condition of the palace which was still quiet because it was still morning suddenly became noisy because of the young Emperor's scream.

Mr Hwangbo, the head of the Imperial Family's Security, came before Donghyun in a hurry. He wasn't even wearing his full attire yet. The Empress Mother also came with a shocked face, she was still wearing her nightgown.

"Donghyun, what's wrong, son? Why are you screaming so early in the morning?" Empress Mother asked worriedly about her son. Moreover, seeing his face flushed red with anger, Empress Mother knew that her son was furious.

The young emperor raised his iPad screen to his mother. Playing the video he had just watched. "Look at this jerk's behavior," Empress Mother frowned, she moved her face closer to the video.

Her eyes widened in shock when he saw who was hurt in the video. His future daughter-in-law. Empress Mother stared at her son in horror. "M-Mr. Jang? Did I just see him hit his daughter?"

"Yes, you saw right, Mother," Donghyun said then put his iPad on a nearby bedside table, now it was his turn to look at Mr. Hwangbo. "Bring Mr. Jang before me, bring him to my office in less than half an hour," Donghyun immediately left the people gathered in the hall, and his orders were of course immediately carried out by Mr. Hwangbo.

___

Wonyoung stared anxiously at the door of Donghyun's office. It was clear that her father had been taken somewhat forcibly to the Government Palace because of his actions last night. His action of hitting his own daughter.

If Donghyun's work room wasn't soundproof, it was certain that his shouts and harsh shouts could be heard from his mouth. Wonyoung knew very well, Donghyun and your relationship was slowly starting to get very close, and you were also slowly starting to have feelings of love for him. Donghyun is so protective of you from any harm or pain. His protection for you is quite tight even though you are still his fiancée.

But how could you go out with him last night without any protection. And that also triggered Donghyun's anger when he found out that you went out without the standard protection of the Empire that night.And rest assured, it must be because of your father.

The door swung open, revealing Donghyun with a messed up appearance, his face still as angry. He looked at Wonyoung and his mother alternately. Behind him, Mr. Jang seemed to be experiencing severe trauma. His face was shocked, probably after being shouted at harshly and repeatedly by Donghyun.

"Bring my Y/N here! I want my girl in this palace right now!"

___

The door to the throne room opened as the butler opened the large door. You can clearly see your future husband sitting on the throne with a somewhat chaotic appearance. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas into his regular clothes.

Donghyun signaled his palace butler to leave you and him alone without being disturbed. The door closed behind you. And now you and he were alone in the magnificent throne room.

"Majesty," You curtsey respectfully to him, the usual thing you do when you meet him. You understand very well, you are still his fiancée, not his wife. So, your status is still in a different position.

"Come here," You approached him, walking up the stairs which led directly to the throne chair where he was sitting. When you were in front of him, he kissed your hand softly. Looking at you with worried eyes. "Why didn't you tell me last night?" He asked, his eyes looking a little tired. It was understandable, his morning had been a mess and quite draining.

"I just don't want to make things worse. I'm fine anyway," You said in a calm tone. He slowly pulled you to sit on his lap, he shook his head. "But it's all gone bad. Your father broke the 'rules' by being rude to my future wife. You know, even though you are his daughter, he should be aware that soon you will not only be his daughter, but his empress as well. He should respect that important position, not hurt you," You cupped his face, placing soothing strokes on his jaw and cheeks.

"Don't worry too much, the most important thing is that I'm fine now. I know, you won't silent if I'm oppressed by someone," You kissed his lips briefly, intending to give him deeper peace.

But instead, he pulled your head and immediately captured your lips with his. His right hand gently pressed the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Your tongues clashed, he was so good at making out and clashing tongues like this. Your fingers roamed his neck. You also pressed the back of his neck to deepen your kiss, occasionally squeezing his long hair gently.

Starting to be enveloped in burning lust, your hands unbutton the top three buttons of his pajamas to touch and feel his chest. Donghyun felt himself getting aroused and felt a heat spreading throughout his body.

You feel that there is a bulge rubbing against your pussy which is still covered by panties. You broke the kiss and immediately attacked the young emperor's neck with your wet lips that were still covered in thick lipstick. You're both horny and both want more.

Donghyun growled as your lips and tongue played hotly around his neck area. Not only that, your hands also played on his chest. And that made him even more insane. You went back up to his lips, giving him a kiss that this time was not full of love, but of passionate lust.

"Damn, I want you, your pussy, everything about you but we're not married yet," Donghyun gasped as you broke the kiss again. You were burning with lust, but instead you said something that instantly made Donghyun forget his status. "To hell with not being married, we're getting married soon. It doesn't matter if you use me now," Hearing that, of course Donghyun was shocked. He didn't seem to see you who were always calm and looked dignified. But, because of this crazy lust, anyone will forget what their real status is.

"Take off your clothes," Donghyun said in a trembling voice. And without hesitation, you immediately did what he wanted. In less than a minute you were completely naked in front of him.

Donghyun was like seeing an angel in typical European paintings. And now, he was like seeing someone coming out of a painting.

___

"G-Gonna cum," You whimpered as you felt your orgasm, who knows how many, about to hit you. You and Donghyun had been making love in the throne room for almost an hour in different positions. Your pussy is already filled with his cum which he has spurted several times. He never let his cum out from your pussy

And this time, you and him are on the sofa in his throne room, doing doggy style. The most enjoyable position you have experienced with him. "Yeah, cum. Do it one more time for me," His long fingers reached your clit and made circular movements, making you cum so hard that it wet your thighs and the sofa where you were making love.

Not long after, Donghyun also cums again and spurts his fluids very much. Making your fluids mix together again. You both gasped, he slowly pulled out his cock. You clenched around nothing and made his cum drip from your pussy. Making Donghyun smile in satisfaction, he slapped your ass.

"You turned out to be a great stress reliever for me. I love you so much and I was not wrong to choose you," The young emperor slapped your ass again and then gave a quick kiss on the red mark from his 'sexy' slap.

After this, he would move the wedding date forward. He couldn't stand it any longer, the girl he had chosen was so perfect.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I don’t want you like a best friend | Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Summary: You and Xavier have been best friends for a while, but you don’t want to be just friends anymore. Come the Rave’n dance, you decide to tell him

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: suggestive themes

"Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off"

—

‘’Are you coming the the Rave’n dance?’’

‘’I don’t have a date.’’

‘’You could go with Xavier?’’ Enid suggested with a knowing grin.

You and Xavier have been best friends since your first year at Nevermore Academy. Being away from home for this long and adjusting to a new environment had been difficult. You missed your family and the comfort of home. Making friends wasn’t your strongest, so you ended up very lonely.

Until you met Xavier. Although he was part of the popular crowd, he preferred solitude. He could spend hours on his own, drawing or painting.

One day, his sketchbook fell out of his bag in botanical class and you were amazed by the close to perfection sketch of your mutual classmate, Ajax. You hadn’t been able to stop the compliment that spilled from your lips. Xavier had smiled, a little shy, and thanked you. The next day, he had made a drawing of you sitting in the courtyard, reading a book.

You never talked to him outside of class…until parents’s weekend. You had been anticipating that day for so long — you missed your parents very dearly —, only to hear from Principal Weems that morning that they would not be coming. Sadness had filled your heart and you ended up crying silently between two shelves at the library.

You weren’t the only student whose parents didn’t come. Some parents, like Xavier’s father, were so busy with their work life that they cared very little about their son’s school event. Unlike you, Xavier didn’t come to cry. He was looking for a book. Except he found you instead.

You spent the whole day together, getting to know each other and talking about anything but your parents and, for the first time in weeks, a smile curled on your lips. Especially when he shared with you his little ability of making his artwork move.

Your friendship tightened over the years, friends turning into best friends. You called each other during summer break, and sometimes visited because September was just too far away. The Thorpe manor was massive and Xavier had his own art studio — which was even bigger than his shed on school grounds.

It was nice to have a friend like him.

But since your last visit, some things changed. Your friendship had developed into deeper feelings — non-platonic feelings. You held back from acting on them because Xavier was freshly broken up with Bianca and hurting. You also didn’t want to be someone’s rebound.

‘’I heard he’s going with Bianca,’’ Wednesday butted in, making Enid narrow her eyes at her.

‘’Only because she asked him,’’ the blonde quickly clarified. ‘’It doesn’t look like they’re getting back together though. Like ever. Xavier’s been very indifferent toward Bianca lately.’’

Enid wasn’t wrong. You hadn’t heard Xavier say Bianca's name in the past two months and you were the second person he spent the most time with — after Ajax. He came to you when he had doubts about the genuineness of their relationships, so he would tell you if he was still into her. Right?

That’s how the plans were made.

‘’That means we’re going dress shopping!’’ Enid grabbed her pink fuzzy backpack, looking at you excitedly. ‘’You need a dress that screams ‘stand back bitches, he’s mine’.’’

*

There weren't many shops in Jericho, so everyone ended up in the same one. It’s gonna be a miracle if two girls don’t show up in the same dress.

The bell above Hawte Kewture dinged as you and Enid stepped in. ‘’The dance committee is suggesting all white to match with the team, but that’s not gonna fly with us. If you want to catch Xavier’s attention and make him see you as something else than a best friend, you need to stand out.’’

‘’I’m not gonna wear bright pink, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’’

You weren’t afraid of colors like Wednesday, but brighter tones and pastels were Enid’s palette. Not yours.

‘’That’s not what I had in mind. Come.’’

None of the dresses you tried were to your liking. Too much tule, too itchy, too plain. You needed something that would make the whole place shimmer, to quote Enid.

Time passed and, around you, your classmates were all finding their dresses. All except you. Even Enid had found hers — a white number with a fluffy collar and cuffs. You were starting to feel defeated.

A sigh left your lips. I'll never find anythi—’’ You cut yourself, catching a velvet fabric smushed between the tule and sequins. You plucked it from the rack and held it before you.

‘’What about this one?’’

Enid stopped flicking through the dresses and turned to you, approval flashing in her eyes. ‘’Yes! This is the dress,’’ she confirmed, squealing excitedly.

*

You and Enid were getting ready for the dance in her dorm, both of your makeup bags spilled and mixed up on her bed. It was a complete mess — and will probably be staining her comforter in some places because of a missing cap on a lipstick and a broken highlighter. Sorry, Enid.

‘’If Xavier doesn't kiss you tonight, he is the dumbest guy ever. I mean, look at you. If this doesn’t push him to make a move, someone else will.’’

But I don’t want someone else, you thought to yourself as you applied a light wash of color to your cheeks.

You didn’t want to be that girl, but to your eyes there was only Xavier.

His sweet smile that never fails to make your heart swoon, those pretty green eyes you want to stare into all day, those lips you were dying to kiss and taste. The way only he knows how to make you laugh when you're sad and the warm hugs you never want to break from. He is always real and honest with you, even if his thoughts are sometimes dark. The speckles of paint on his shirts and sometimes on his school uniform — which he always needed your help to clean —, the late nights sneaking in his dorm to talk about everything and nothing.

‘’Y/N! Are you listening?’’

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, thankful for the color on your cheeks covering your natural flush. ‘’Sorry. What did you say?’’

‘’You were thinking about him, were you?’’ Enid teased, grinning like a teenage girl in a rom-com.

‘’I was not thinking about Xavier,’’ you denied.

She scoffed. ‘’Liar.’’ Enid held up two lipsticks, asking for your input. ‘’Should I do red or pink?’’

‘’Pink.’’

*

When you entered the room of flashing lights and buzzing music, all eyes turned to you.

All except Xavier’s.

His were too busy staring at the layered white tablecloths while Bianca was talking about god knows what. Before him was an empty glass, telling you enough about the fun he was not having.

You bit back a smile, secretly happy to see he was not having fun with his date.

‘’Ohh, look, Xavier’s there,’’ Enid pointed out in the least subtle way, grabbing your arm and looking right in his direction. ‘’He polished up nice.’’

He was wearing an all white suit with a thin black bowtie and his hair was pulled back, showing off his features. You sucked in a breath, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He looked so handsome — gorgeous.

‘’I’m gonna get us some drinks.’’ You tore your eyes from Xavier and went to the table where the punch was. With luck, someone will have spiked it and it’ll give you some liquid courage for later.

As you were filling the second glass with blue smoking punch, someone came up to your side. By the whiff of their cologne, you knew immediately who it was.

‘’I thought you weren’t coming.’’

His eyes raked up and down your body and you held back a smirk. Your plan was working, the dress was working. It was nothing too revealing. You wanted to get Xavier’s attention, not get sent to your room by Principal Weems.

‘’I changed my mind.’’ You grabbed your other drink and handed Xavier the second one. ‘’Yeti-tini?’’

It was for Enid, but oh well.

Xavier accepted it with a soft dimpled smile and brought the glass to his lips. ‘’You look…’’ He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes while searching for his words. ‘’Beautiful.’’ A light flush covered his cheeks, quickly correcting himself. ‘’I mean, you look great.’’

‘’Thanks.’’ You brought your drink to your lips to hide your smile. ‘’Shouldn’t you be with your date? Bianca seems a little lonely.’’

He glanced at Bianca who was sitting alone at a table, swishing her drink in its glass out of boredom, then drew his gaze back to you. ‘’I’m not allowed to come and say ‘hi’ to my best friend?’’

Best friend. You tried not to wince.

Xavier Thorpe was the king of mixed signals. A minute ago, he was complimenting you and looking at you the way a platonic friend wouldn’t, and now he was calling you his best friend. The words hurt like a knife in your chest.

You shifted your eyes to the dancefloor and faked a gasp. ‘’I gotta go. There’s a girl code emergency. Someone is flirting with Enid and she’s giving me the help signal.’’

‘’Oh. Okay. I…I’ll see you later, then.’’

You walked away with your drink and searched for Enid. The night was off to a bad start.

*

Eventually, you got dragged to the dancefloor. Most songs the DJ was playing were normie modern pop, but you tried to not cringe too much. One would think a school like Nevermore would be into more unorthodox music, but they can’t escape the radio hits.

You were dancing with Enid and Yoko, letting go and having fun between girls when you caught sight of an upset Bianca leaving the dance and Xavier sulking in a chair. Abandoning the girls, you snaked through the crowd of students and made your way to him.

‘’I know you are Nevermore’s tortured artist, but you’re allowed to have fun once in a while. Come dance.’’ You extended your hand, waiting for him to take it.

Xavier raised an eyebrow. ‘’With you?’’

‘’Yes. I promise I won’t step on your feet.’’

He accepted your hand with a sigh and you pulled him to the dancefloor as a better song came up. A sliver of a smile curled on his lips as your back was turned to him, hidden from you.

You swayed close to him, moving your arms, hips and shoulders to the music. Xavier chuckled and followed automatically, dancing as he pleased and fully letting go. He pulled silly moves and even made you twirl, making you both laugh. A perpetual smile etched itself on your face and pieces of hair were coming loose from Xavier's hair tie, forgetting about the people around you.

The music switched to a slow song and you both stood there, not knowing what to do. His eyes flicked down to you, looking at you in a way he never had before. You've never been nervous around Xavier before. He was your comfort person, the only one who you could be unapologetically yourself with. But the way he was looking at you sent nervous butterflies in your stomach.

Your hands shaking from holding back from him. You didn't want him like a best friend anymore. You didn’t want him to touch you like a best friend anymore.

As if he had heard your thoughts, Xavier stepped closer, so close not even a sheet of paper could pass between you. So close you could smell his cologne, a mix of pine notes with a softer undernote. His hands found the courage to rest on your waist, his gentle touch sending electricity through your body. ‘’Is this okay?’’ he asked, gulping as his eyes bore into you, the close proximity making his hands sweaty and causing his heart to pick up.

You nodded. It was more than okay.

‘’Xavier?’’

He hummed, his green eyes shimmering from the mirrorballs hung to the ceiling, reflecting the party lights. You curled your fingers around one of the tails of Xavier’s bowtie, wishing you could undo it and attach your lips to his neck and fastening yourself to him like a stitch.

‘’There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while.’’ He motioned for you to go ahead as you swayed to the slow music. You took a last breath and allowed the words to leave your lips. ‘’I...I don't want us to be friends anymore. I can't keep pretending I'm okay with us being just friends when all I think about when we're together is closing the space between us and kissing you.’’

‘’Like this?’’

Xavier leaned down and when his lips touched yours, all pieces fell into place. You melted into him and slid your hands around his neck, as if you were afraid he would break the kiss and run.

You were both out of breath when you pulled away, eyes filled with desire.

‘’I take back what I said earlier, you look fucking beautiful tonight,’’ Xavier said, his mouth overing over yours. ‘’And that dress— It's killing me.’’ His hands moved up and down your sides while his eyes stalled on the swell over your breasts. He was trying to be respectful with all the chaperon professors around, but his pants were getting a little tight.

There was absolutely no subtlety in the way you and Xavier snuck out of the room to go to his dorm. Your red dress stood out like a sore thumb among all the white.

Your dress hit the floor the moment you made it to Xavier’s dorm and remained there all night. After all, it was the reason you had bought it.

—

Xavier Thorpe taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n

[wanderingsoul6261]

Gif credit to thepalmofyourfreezinghand

James Beaufort x tailor!Reader(Female)

Synopsis: Reader is James new tailor. Will be a small series. This fic is small, as it sets the basis, paves the way, whatever, for the series.

Mortimer is probably a bit OOC in this (but I set it where he is good friends with the reader's family? And things will be explained further in the series. But Mortimer is good friends with her father and grandfather primarily) I don't know. We will see where it goes. I might make edits if it's not working in the way I'd like.

The doors to the room burst open, alerting the Beauforts. Heads turned, and glares were given at the intrusion. James had wrinkled his nose in disgust at the newcomer, who wore ripped jeans and a baggy hoodie and had all but practically fell into the room. His eyes moved to his father, whose eyes were on the girl in an instant. James had expected his father to look at her the same way he had and give her an earful, but instead, James was caught by surprise by his father's reaction.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” James whipped his head back towards her. This was his new tailor. This girl, in civilian clothes. Could she even afford lavish clothes? Did she live in a one bedroom house with the rest of her family? 

“Mr. Beaufort. I'm so sorry for being late. I had a family emergency to attend to. I told someone to let you know.” James went to open his mouth to say something sarcastic in response, but his father beat him to it. 

“No need for apologies. I was informed. I hope all is well. We aren't in particularly a rush today, so all is well.” Mortimer turned to his son, who looked between his father and the girl in astonishment? What happened to his father? The brute that threatened to wreak havoc at the smallest of inconveniences. 

“This is Y/N Y/L/N. She is your new tailor. She has trained under some of the finest tailors in the business, so I expect some good things.” James only stared in silence at his father, before his attention turned to her, his jaw clenching. This had to be some joke, but as she readied herself with a measuring tape and motioned for him to take his spot, he knew it wasn't so. “In the meantime, me and your mother have business to attend to.” With that, Mr. and Mrs. Beaufort gave her a polite smile and left the room, Lydia in tow. She shared a look with her brother, who didn't look enthused in the slightest. 

He watched his family leave, and then turned to Y/N, who waited for him to move. But he stood there and stared at her. 

“You're my tailor?” He spoke with a tone that held disgust, his eyes somehow showing the same as he looked her over again. 

“And you're my client? I know. Not how I wanted to spend my afternoon.” She bit back and it surprised him. Not many spoke to him in such a tone, especially someone dressed in such a way that she was. “The Beauforts. Known for their money, and their arrogance.” His jaw clenched, as well as his fists. He wanted to fire back. She hadn't said much to warrant anything too nasty from, but he didn’t like people speaking about his family in such a way.

“You say that, but you still decided to work for us?” It came out as more of a question.

“My family has worked for the Beauforts for many years. Just carrying it on.” her tone altered slightly, almost in a solemn way, before it changed into a mock cheeky tone. 

“And while I know that much about your family, we both also know how your father can be with inconveniences, so we better get started before we really set him behind schedule.” He did know his father, which was why James was surprised when he didn’t lash out when she was half an hour late to their appointment. But he also knew that she was right. The half an hour was small, miniscule. But anything more than that, was up for debate. He didn’t want to see or hear what would come if they fell even further behind schedule. 

“Aren't my measurements already on file?” He asked instead, looking at her pointedly.

“Bodies change, Mr. Beaufort.” She spoke with snark in her tone. “I just want to be sure. Ya know. The ‘do the job once and do it right’ kind of thing’.” She gave him a cheeky grin. Oh how bad he wanted to swipe that grin off her face. She infuriated him, and they have known each other for all but ten minutes. 

He finally took a few steps towards her. 

“Oh, what a good Beaufort!” She exclaimed. He whipped his head towards her in a sneer. 

“Do not, speak to me in such a way.” Y/N had looked almost bored at him. 

“I'm so threatened. Now get over here so I can do my job. I don't want to be here as much as you do, you can trust me that much. But I'm not doing it for me or you, no less your father.” She matched his glare, the two of them knowing full well where these appointments were going to go every time he had one. 

James blew air out of his nose in irritation, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he stared her down. When she only raised an eyebrow and stood her ground, he finally gave in, but if she wanted a fight, James was going to give her one. 

When she was finally allowed to, she finally got to work with measurements, surprising James with how gentle she was being, despite their tiny spat. 

But as she continued to do her job, he felt several emotions. Anger, frustration, disgust, amongst others that described his distaste for her. The other was confusion. Who was she? What was her status? Why did his father treat her with so much respect? And what happened to the man that was his previous tailor? 

----

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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