#and now the queen is dead and the game is over

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter One Hundred & One

“Your Grace?”

The Grand Maester’s chambers were dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering candles scattered across the room and the muted glow of a small hearth. Shelves lined the stone walls, filled with leather-bound tomes, jars of herbs, and countless vials of strange, murky liquids. A faint, musty odor clung to the air, a blend of old parchment and medicinal concoctions. The room was cluttered but organized, each item clearly having its place, from scrolls stacked neatly on the desk to tools used for various experiments.

Vaegon sat at a sturdy oak desk near the center of the chamber, quill in hand, scratching away at a letter with quick, deliberate strokes. As soon as he noticed Maera at the entrance, he rose immediately, setting aside his quill.

He bowed his head in respect. “I am surprised to see you here.”

The Queen’s gaze wandered as she stepped inside, trying to distract herself from the unease that had followed her into the chamber. Her eyes landed on one of Vaegon’s juniors in the far corner, hunched over a small table. The apprentice was carefully dissecting a dead toad, its insides laid bare as he poked and prodded with a tiny scalpel. Maera shuddered involuntarily, a wave of revulsion washing over her at the sight.

Vaegon’s voice pulled her back to the present, his words cutting through her discomfort. “Is it your collarbone that troubles you, Your Grace?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. His gaze dropped to her shoulder, recalling the wound she had sustained in battle.

Maera’s hand instinctively brushed over the spot, her fingers tracing the faint scar hidden beneath her dress. “No,” she replied softly, shaking her head as if to dismiss the thought. “It’s fully healed now, thanks to your care.” She paused for a moment, steadying herself before continuing. “I’m here for another matter entirely.” Her voice was calm, though a current of anxiety underlined her words, the reason for her visit still weighing heavily on her mind.

The Grand Maester’s violet eyes remained fixed on Maera, studying her closely as she stood before him. The Queen fiddled with the sleeve of her green and black dress, her fingers twisting the fabric as if it might anchor her swirling thoughts. She hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath, her chest rising slowly as she gathered the courage to speak.

"My moons blood has still not returned," she said, her voice measured yet betraying a hint of vulnerability. She paused, her gaze dropping for a moment before she continued, her tone softer now, almost as if admitting a weakness. "And…I’m concerned about my ability to have more children."

Vaegon scratched at his beard, his fingers moving slowly through the wiry silver strands as he considered her words. He hummed thoughtfully, the silence stretching for a beat before he spoke. "You are still feeding your daughter yourself, Your Grace," he began, his tone steady, almost placating.

Before he could continue, Maera shook her head sharply, cutting him off. "I know," she said, her frustration seeping through. Closing her eyes, she sighed, her fingers still tugging at her sleeve as her green eyes flickered with uncertainty. "I just need to be sure there’s nothing to worry about."

Maester Vaegon gave a slow, understanding nod, his expression softening. Without a word, he turned and called over to his junior, who was still hunched over the dissected toad, his concentration unwavering. The young man flicked his eyes up, his brow lifting slightly in question. At Vaegon’s command, he rose from his seat, carefully setting down his tools.

"The Queen requires an examination," the Grand Maester ordered, his tone firm yet respectful. The junior apprentice nodded quickly, setting aside his previous task and washing his hands in a basin nearby. He approached Maera with caution, his demeanor professional, though the faintest flicker of nervousness crossed his face as he stood before the Queen, preparing for the task at hand.

As the junior beckoned Maera to a nearby bed, she heard Vaegon clear his throat. “I will give you privacy, Your Grace,” he said with a respectful nod, before turning to walk toward the door.

But before he could take more than a few steps, Maera called out softly, “Wait.” Vaegon stopped in his tracks, turning to meet her gaze.

Despite the tangled feelings she still wrestled with regarding her estranged grandfather, Maera knew she could not deny his skill. He was one of the most learned Maesters in the Realm, and if anyone could provide her with sound advice, it was him. She stood still for a moment, the words catching in her throat, but then she gathered herself. “I would value your opinion as well,” she said, her voice steady but carrying a hint of vulnerability.

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Vaegon’s lips, though he quickly masked it with his usual stern expression. “Very well, Your Grace,” he replied, his tone formal, though there was a warmth beneath it. He moved back to his desk, settling in quietly as the junior prepared the examination.

Behind a modest screen, Maera lay on the basic bed, the fabric of her dress hitched up to her hips, her smallclothes discarded. The cold air of the chamber chilled her exposed skin as the junior Maester began his work, his hands clinical and detached but still foreign. Maera clenched her jaw, her breath coming in shallow, controlled bursts. On the other side of the screen, Grand Maester Vaegon’s quill scratched steadily against parchment, the rhythmic sound a strange comfort amidst the invasive touches.

The sheet beneath her fingers crumpled as she clutched it tighter, her knuckles turning pale. Her body tensed, each sensation drawing her further into herself, her mind seeking solace in thoughts of duty and legacy. All had to be well; there was no other option. For the Realm, for her husband, for the future she was meant to secure.

As the junior Maester withdrew his hand, Maera hissed at the sharp discomfort that followed. He looked up at her with a blank expression, offering no immediate reassurance. She frowned, trying to read his face, but there was nothing there. "I am finished, my Queen," he said stiffly, stepping back from the bed.

Her heart sank slightly. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. Was there something wrong? He made a quick, nervous bow before adding, "I just need to consult with the Grand Maester," and hurried away, disappearing behind the screen.

The Queen sat up slowly, her body still tense as she readjusted her undergarments and smoothed the folds of her skirts. The room felt colder now, and her anxiety surged as she strained to hear the conversation between the two Maesters. Their voices were low, barely above whispers, but her senses were heightened. She heard fragments of the junior's voice, followed by Grand Maester Vaegon’s quiet but firm, "Are you quite sure?"

The junior continued to murmur, his tone cautious, and Maera’s patience wore thin. What were they saying? Why weren’t they telling her? The uncertainty gnawed at her until she could stand it no longer. Without a word, she hopped down from the bed, her shoes hitting the stone floor with a soft thud. The modesty screen scraped loudly as she moved it aside, the sound echoing through the chamber.

She strode toward them, her arms crossed, her green eyes flashing with frustration. "Well?" she asked, her voice cool and demanding, though her heart pounded with dread beneath the surface.

Grand Maester Vaegon glanced at her before nodding to the junior. "Thank you," he said, his tone measured. "You may study in the library for now. I expect you to read up on this.”

The junior’s eyes flicked nervously from Maera to Vaegon before he quickly bowed. "Yes, Grand Maester," he said, turning on his heel to leave.

Before he could step out of the room, Vaegon’s voice followed him like a command. "And remember," he said sternly, "this does not leave this room." The young Maester nodded, his face pale, before scurrying out through the heavy wooden door, leaving Maera alone with her grandfather.

She remained rooted to her spot, her arms still crossed, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. His expression was frustratingly unreadable, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his violet eyes—the same shade as her husband and daughter—betrayed little. She searched his face for any hint of emotion, wondering why he had sent the junior away to study instead of revealing what he had discovered.

“What does he need to read up on?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence.

The Grand Maester didn’t answer immediately, his eyes drifting down to the parchments strewn across his desk. It was maddening. Anxiety crept up on her like a shadow, tightening around her chest with each passing second of silence.

She studied him more closely, trying to decipher what lingered beneath his calm exterior. His age had weathered his face, but beneath the lines and stern expression, there was something else—an echo of protectiveness, almost familial. It struck her how much he reminded her of her mother in that moment, the way his eyes softened ever so slightly, but still held something back.

“Is something wrong?” Maera asked, her voice more fragile than she intended, a crack in her usually firm demeanor.

Vaegon remained quiet, his silence gnawing at her. Her nerves wound tighter, coiling into a knot of dread deep within her belly. She chewed on her bottom lip, her mind spiraling. It was too much to bear—the waiting, the not knowing. The thought of not being able to bear more children clawed at her, turning her fear into something raw and aching.

“Is it—” she began again, her voice barely above a whisper this time, “Am I… unable to have more children?”

Finally, Vaegon sighed, a deep and weary sound. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and for the first time, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “On the contrary, my Queen.”

Maera’s brow furrowed, confusion mixing with the relief she desperately wanted to feel. The Grand Maester stepped forward, his gaze gentle but firm as he delivered the news. “You are with child.”

There was a silence in the room following the news. After some time, the Queen found herself sat at one of the wooden desks, her elbow propped on the desk, her chin resting on her hand. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, as her mind grappled with the news. With child. The phrase echoed in her thoughts, tangling with the myriad emotions surging through her. It should have been simple relief, yet it wasn’t.

Across the room, the soft clinking of metal and glass caught her ear as Grand Maester Vaegon prepared a tray of refreshments. She heard the jug being carefully set down, the faint chime of plates being arranged with precision. The mundane sounds of his work contrasted with the rapid heartbeat in her chest, grounding her, even as her mind raced.

The news had landed like a stone, sending ripples through the carefully constructed calm she had built for herself. Now, those ripples threatened to become waves. She was with child again. The Realm would get its heir—or so she hoped. She traced small, idle patterns on the wooden surface of the desk with her finger, her thoughts swirling in sync with the repetitive motion.

Happiness... relief...But also fear. So much could go wrong, she knew that all too well. The pressures of the crown, the expectations of the Realm, the fragility of pregnancy—all of it weighed on her, heavier than any crown she had ever worn.

The soft thud of footsteps approached, and Maera looked up as Vaegon came to her side, the tray now in his hands. He placed a plate and cup gently in front of her, his old hands steady despite their age. Maera glanced at the offering as the Grand Maester poured water into her goblet, his movements careful, deliberate, as if trying to soothe her with the smallest of gestures.

A slice of pie was placed on her plate—small, simple, but a kind reminder that she should eat. Maera stared at it for a moment, her appetite absent despite the gnawing hunger in her stomach. She exhaled slowly, the enormity of the situation beginning to settle, but the knot of emotions in her chest refused to unwind. Vaegon sat beside her now, his presence steady and unintrusive, allowing her the space she needed to process the news. The silent support of her estranged grandfather was unexpected but appreciated.

The Queen picked up her fork, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought a piece of the pie toward her mouth. But just as it was about to reach her lips, she stopped. A wave of confusion swept over her, and she slowly placed the fork back down. Pushing the plate away, she looked at Vaegon, her brow furrowing.

"I don’t understand," she murmured, her voice quiet but laced with frustration. Her eyes fixed on the Grand Maester, seeking clarity. "My moons blood hasn’t returned. I thought... after childbirth, its return meant a woman was fit to conceive again. How could I be with child if—" She trailed off, her hand resting on her abdomen, the weight of her uncertainty pressing down on her once more.

Vaegon chewed thoughtfully, finishing the last bite of his food before swallowing. His violet eyes softened as he considered her words, but there was no surprise in his expression. Instead, he offered her a small, almost nostalgic smile.

"I have seen this before," he began, his voice calm, measured. "Among the lowborn women, those who have no choice but to nurse their babes themselves." He seemed to recall memories of his earlier years, his smile growing faintly as if remembering the simpler days when he worked among the common folk. "The womb can prepare itself for another child before the woman is even aware. Even without the return of the moons blood."

Maera nodded slowly, taking in his words, though the confusion still lingered in her mind. She picked up her fork again, this time without hesitation, and took a small bite of the pie. The savory taste of mushroom filled her mouth, and despite everything swirling within her, she found herself appreciating the flavor.

For a brief moment, she let the food ground her, allowing the familiar taste to bring some semblance of normalcy back to her. She chewed slowly, thoughtfully, her mind still whirring, but the edge of her anxiety had dulled. She had to admit, for all her misgivings about Vaegon, the man’s extensive knowledge was invaluable. Despite the complicated nature of their relationship, she understood that he was definitely well-suited for his role, and was glad that she had selected him.

Lost in her thoughts, Maera barely noticed the gentle brush of a hand against her own. Her green eyes flicked up, meeting the violet gaze of her estranged grandfather. Vaegon quickly withdrew his hand, as though startled by his own action, his expression betraying a rare flicker of uncertainty. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward slightly, his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “If this is not something you want…”

Maera furrowed her brow, unsure of what he meant at first. But then, with a sudden clarity, she realized what he was asking. Judging by her earlier reaction—her confusion, her silence, the shock in her eyes—it must have seemed as though the news of the pregnancy had unsettled her deeply, perhaps even as though she did not welcome it. Vaegon, with his quiet voice and thoughtful gaze, was giving her a choice. He was subtly offering her an out, something she hadn’t expected, and the understanding dawned on her that he would handle whatever decision she made with the utmost discretion.

Her heart quickened for a moment, but then she quickly shook her head, her voice breaking the silence that had settled between them. “No, no, that’s not it.” She spoke quickly, almost stumbling over her words in her haste to correct him. “I… I’m just in shock, that’s all.”

She let out a shaky sigh, feeling the weight of the situation settle more heavily on her shoulders. Maera leaned back in her chair, rubbing her forehead as if trying to ease the tension gathering there. “The King needs an heir,” she said, her voice firmer now, as though she were reminding herself of her duty. “And the Realm needs stability.”

However even as she said it, her thoughts drifted to Aemara, her baby girl still so small, still so dependent on her. A pained expression flickered across Maera’s face, and her hand instinctively moved to her chest, where her heart ached with the thought of being pulled in so many directions. “But Aemara… she still needs me.” Her voice softened as she spoke aloud the thoughts that had been haunting her since Vaegon had delivered the news.

Her eyes clouded with worry, the enormity of what lay ahead threatening to overwhelm her. As a Queen, she was bound by duty to the Realm. As a mother, her heart belonged to Aemara. Would she able to love another child as much as she loved her daughter? Would this pregnancy hinder her from being the best possible mother?

And then of course there was the war. Aemond would surely worry about Maera riding in this condition, but Ēbrion was a crucial tool in battle strategy. If the Blacks sensed weakness, they would surely take advantage. This was all so frustrating. How could she balance all of this, especially when each role demanded so much from her?

She heard the soft sound of a chuckle from across the room, unexpected enough to draw her out of her spiraling thoughts. She glanced up to find Grand Maester Vaegon looking at her with a rare softness in his violet eyes.

"I remember when my wife fell pregnant," he said, his voice carrying an almost wistful note. “It was something she always wanted and yet she was still so nervous.”

Maera furrowed her brow, her curiosity piqued. It was the first time he had ever spoken of his personal life. Of the blood that bound them. Of anything beyond their duties and relationship as Queen and Grand Maester. She had always known little about him beyond the fact that he was her estranged grandfather, a truth he had only recently confessed. She shifted slightly in her chair, the tension in her shoulders tightening. Now, with this small opening, it seemed as good a time as any to explore further.

"And you?" she asked, her voice quiet but firm, as if unsure whether she was crossing a line. Vaegon quirked an eyebrow at her question, his expression neutral but clearly considering her words. He tilted his head, and Maera reworded her inquiry, her own curiosity pushing her to press on. "How did you feel? When you found out she was pregnant?"

The Grand Maester let out a sigh, leaning back slightly in his chair. "I felt relieved," he said after a moment. "There was... less pressure. Less need for the marital duties required of me." His voice was calm, but there was a detachment in it, as though even now he held those memories at arm’s length, viewing them as part of an obligation rather than something emotional.

The Queen’s heart tightened at his words, and without warning, a quick, hot flare of anger surged through her veins. She could feel it boiling just beneath her skin, ignited by the coldness of his reply. Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, and her green eyes flashed sharply.

"Yes. And once you completed your duties," she said, her voice cutting through the space between them, "and your wife died in childbirth, you abandoned your daughters the moment they were born."

Her words were a whip, cracking with the bitterness and disappointment she had long buried. The raw truth of her accusation hung in the air between them, both of them knowing there was no way to soften it.

Vaegon’s face didn’t change much, but there was a flicker in his eyes, a shadow of something deeper than the impassive facade he normally wore. For a long moment, there was only silence, the weight of her accusation settling heavily in the room. Maera waited, her pulse quickened with her frustration, unsure if he would even respond to something so deeply personal.

“You did not like my late grandmother then?” She hissed, narrowing her eyes as they fixed upon his face.

She expected indifference, perhaps even some curt dismissal of the woman who had given birth to her mother, but Vaegon immediately shook his head. “It wasn’t like that,” he replied, his tone firmer than before. “She was not to…my taste.”

The Queen gasped at the sheer disrespect in his words. “How dare you—” she began, her anger flaring up, ready to chastise him for speaking so callously of the woman who had borne his children, who had played a vital role in their family’s lineage.

But before she could unleash her full fury, Vaegon raised his hands in defence. “The fault was with me, not her.”

Maera rolled her eyes, folding her arms tightly across her chest, her frustration with the Grand Maester barely held at bay. He continued, his voice a little quieter now, his eyes flickering with something she couldn’t quite place.

“Lady Edme,” he began, “wanted more. A loving marriage. A husband who could give her… everything.” His voice wavered for a moment, and Maera noticed the way his fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of his gown, a nervous tic she’d never seen from him before.

He took a shaky breath, one that seemed to catch in his throat before he muttered, almost too quietly for her to hear, “But due to my affliction, I couldn’t give it to her.”

The Queen’s brow furrowed, confusion replacing her anger. “Affliction?” she asked, genuinely puzzled now. Vaegon, though old, had always seemed healthy enough. He still performed his duties as Grand Maester with precision and focus. He had never shown signs of any illness or physical impairment whilst at Dragonstone, and she struggled to understand what he was referring to.

The Grand Maester rose from his seat with a slow, deliberate movement, his hands clasped behind his back. His steps were measured, almost hesitant, as he paced the chamber. “My brothers had died within a few years of each other,” he began, his voice low and distant. “Naturally, my father was concerned for the succession.”

Maera nodded slightly, knowing the tale well. Aemon, King Jaehaerys’s eldest son, had been next in line to the throne. But Aemon had only conceived a daughter, Princess Rhaenys, with his wife before his untimely passing. And then Baelon, Jaehaerys’s next son, had died a few years later, despite fathering two sons with his sister-wife, Alyssa.

The tragedy of their deaths had thrown the Realm into uncertainty. The question of who would succeed King Jaehaerys had ignited fierce debates and created divisions across the Seven Kingdoms. It was a story Maera had heard many times, but this was different. She had never heard Vaegon’s part in it.

“He said that…” Vaegon continued, his voice strained with something more than mere recollection. “He said that my appetites would change if I just married the right woman.” He paused, and his eyes flicked over to Maera, searching her face, as though the words he was trying to find were buried in her expression. “But I knew they never would.”

His words hung in the air, charged with something Maera could not place at first. There was a vulnerability in his tone, something raw and unspoken. His voice, though measured, trembled with a fear laced beneath the surface of his carefully chosen words. The pacing stopped, and Vaegon stood still, staring at the floor as though the weight of his confession pressed down on him.

Maera’s brows furrowed. She felt the same confusion from earlier tightening in her chest. What did he mean? His appetites wouldn’t change? She had always known him to be a distant figure, cold in his marriage, but now there was something more—something deeper that he was confessing.

And then she saw it, the look in his eyes as he glanced up at her. It was familiar. The same guarded, pained look her elder brother Dermot had worn all those years ago when he tried to explain to her, to their closest siblings, why he would never marry, never father children. A realization slowly dawned on her as the pieces began to fall into place.

The Queen watched as Vaegon threw his head back, a sudden burst of frustration replacing the vulnerability he’d shown moments before. His hands trembled slightly as he rubbed them over his face, clearly agitated by the memories. “I begged Jaehaerys,” he muttered, his voice low and biting. “Gods, I begged him to let me join the Citadel, to live a life of study and purpose, one where I could be of use to the Realm without…” His words trailed off, and he shook his head. “But he wouldn’t allow it.”

Maera’s green eyes followed his every movement, watching the tension in his body as he paced before her. His tone was sharp, clipped, every word laced with years of frustration. She could see the weight of his past in the lines etched across his face, the conflict in his violet eyes.

Vaegon rubbed his face again, the sound of his rough skin scratching against his beard filling the silence. His tone softened, almost bitter now. “The old King matched me with a young lady of noble birth, and expected me to produce heirs for the sake of the crown and the succession.”

Maera nodded slightly, allowing him the space to speak, her confusion ebbing, replaced by understanding. Vaegon had never been able to fulfil the expectations his father and the Realm had placed on him—not because of a lack of desire for power or duty, but because he simply wasn’t made for the life they had wanted for him. His detachment, his coldness toward his wife, toward his duties as a husband and father, all stemmed from something more intrinsic, something he had hidden for years.

The Maester’s pacing slowed, and finally, with a deep, exhausted sigh, he approached the table once more, sitting down heavily in the chair beside her. His earlier anger drained away, leaving behind only sorrow. His violet gaze grew distant, as if he were no longer in the room but trapped in some painful memory. “Edme knew,” he said quietly. “She wasn’t a fool, and she was not happy. How could she be? Her marriage was a sham.”

The Queen observed him in silence, giving the elderly man the chance to continue. She could see the sadness pooling in his eyes, the regret that clung to him like a shadow. Vaegon, for all his faults, had been bound by a life he had no control over, his choices made for him by others.

A small, almost wistful smile crept onto his face. “But the Gods took pity on me,” he said softly, as if speaking more to himself than to her. “Jaehaerys, in his final days, knew his death was near, and in those moments of urgency, he finally named Viserys his successor. And when the old King finally died, I did not feel sadness. Only relief.”

The Queen silently empathized with him, feeling the weight of his words settle into her chest. Her thoughts drifted to her own father, Lord Jasper Wylde, whose controlling hand had shaped so much of her youth. How many times had he tried to mold her into something she wasn’t?

He had banned her from sparring with her brothers, insisting it was unbecoming of a lady of noble blood. When her reputation had been tarnished by a scorned suitor, it was she who was blamed, not the man who had slandered her name. Her father’s chastisements had been relentless whenever she spoke out of turn or dared to question his authority.

It was exhausting, the constant weight of his disapproval, the way his gaze would cut her down with every word that slipped from her lips. She had loved him and tried to earn his favor, to be the daughter he wanted her to be, but nothing was ever enough for him. In a twisted way, she too had felt her own sense of relief when he died.

Vaegon’s voice interrupted her thoughts as he continued to share his story. “Edme unfortunately passed away in childbirth, but had given me two daughters. No sons to continue the legacy, no sons for the throne. In the eyes of the Realm, a daughter could not be an heir. And they were therefore disposable.”

Maera felt a pang in her chest at his words, thinking of her own daughter, Aemara, so small and vulnerable. She wondered if her own child was to be viewed the same by the world; not as valuable as a son, her worth determined by her marriage and the children she produced. The Queen shook her head, keeping her worries to herself and said nothing, listening intently as the Grand Maester continued.

“I named them both after my sisters,” Vaegon went on, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles. “Gael and Viserra. I ensured their future, made sure they were safe with their mother’s family. They were better off with their grandparents.” He paused for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden table as if he were measuring the weight of his next words. “And after that… I approached the new King.”

Maera watched as the old man grinned at the memory. “I could immediately tell that my nephew didn’t want to be king,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “Not really. He accepted it, of course, but I always knew he’d have been happier with less. We were close in age, you see, and in many ways, I think he understood me more than my own father ever did. After presenting my case, he allowed me to join the Citadel, no questions asked.”

The Queen studied him as he spoke, taking in the details of the old man before her. Vaegon had led a complicated life, one filled with expectations he had never wanted, duties he had fought to escape. And yet, despite running from the responsibilities that had been forced upon him, here he was, at the side of his granddaughter—the daughter of the very daughter he had abandoned all those years ago.

Maera couldn’t help but wonder if the Gods had intervened once more, drawing him back into her life as if to make amends for his past. The same man who had once fled from the burdens of his birthright now served her, the Queen, with quiet loyalty and wisdom. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was the Gods, tying the loose threads of their bloodline back together in this strange, unexpected way.

Vaegon let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his confession. “I know this is probably not what you wish to hear, nor are my reasons excuses.” His violet eyes, usually so composed, flickered with a vulnerability she had never seen in him before.“I only wished to be honest with you.”

The Queen remained silent for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. As she looked at the old man before her, common themes began to thread themselves together in her mind like a familiar, haunting pattern on an ancient tapestry. Fathers who could not accept their children for who they were. Men and women forced into roles they never wanted. Daughters discarded, thought of as less than sons. The same stories, repeating through the generations, an endless cycle of pain and rejection. When would it finally end?

She reached out across the table, her fingers brushing against Vaegon’s hand. The old man’s gaze lifted to meet hers, his breath catching in his throat. Maera’s grip was firm but gentle, her green eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made him hold his breath. “You speak of an affliction. Like it is an illness. A disease. Something to be disgusted by or to be treated.”

Vaegon’s expression froze, fear and uncertainty swirling in his eyes as he awaited her next words, bracing himself for whatever judgment might follow.

But Maera’s gaze softened, her lips curving into a faint, compassionate smile. “Yet you could not be more wrong,” she told him firmly, squeezing his hand for emphasis. Vaegon exhaled, the breath he had been holding escaping shakily from his lips.

The Queen held his hand tightly, the warmth of her touch reassuring as she continued. “My brother, Dermot, needs no cure,” she said quietly, her voice filled with conviction. “And neither do you. We are how the Gods made us. And the sooner the world stops trying to change us, the better a place it will be.”

The anger Maera had harbored towards her estranged grandfather had lessened, but it hadn’t entirely disappeared. The weight of the pain and betrayal he had caused her family still lingered, and she knew it would take time for her to truly let it go. She watched him carefully, the tension between them easing, yet still present.

"Whilst I don’t excuse your actions towards my aunt and mother," Maera said slowly, her voice steady but softened, "I understand you better now." Her green eyes searched Vaegon’s face, watching as the old man nodded in quiet acceptance. He didn’t attempt to justify himself any further, and Maera could sense that he wasn’t expecting forgiveness, only acknowledgment.

The chamber fell into a comfortable silence, something new and unspoken shifting between them. Maera realized that her relationship with Vaegon had changed—improved, even. The weight of their past wasn’t gone, but it was lighter now, and there was a mutual respect where only resentment had existed before.

Vaegon cleared his throat, breaking the stillness. "Can we keep what I have told you in this room?" he asked, his voice cautious but not pleading. He was asking for her trust.

The Queen nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips, but before fully agreeing, she paused. "On one condition," she added, watching as his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "That you extend me the same courtesy."

The old man tilted his head, unsure of what she was asking. "You mean you don’t wish to tell the King?" His violet eyes, still sharp despite his age, studied her carefully.

Maera hummed softly, the corners of her lips curling into a smile as she glanced down at her stomach. She placed her hand gently over it, feeling the warmth of her body, the quiet stirrings of life within. "Aemond is protective. I do not wish him to worry," she explained, her voice light, though there was an underlying seriousness in her words. She lifted her gaze to meet Vaegon’s again. "I will tell him when the time is right."

Vaegon nodded, understanding the weight of the secret she was choosing to carry. He had spent a lifetime holding onto his own, and though he had never been free of it, he respected her decision. His lips curved into a rare grin, a flash of warmth breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. "It seems," he said, his tone light, "the future just became a bit more hopeful."

Notes: gay grandpa 🏳️‍🌈 pregnant queen 🤰🏻 smut next chapter 🔥

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88 @darylandbethfanforever9

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[pruneunfair]

different medias ways to promote internalized misogyny: an essay.

Do you remember any of those "Me vs other girls" templates that people nowadays use for yuri art? the type that are so painfully cringey that you think whoever made it is just messing around. We think that it just died down when everyone matured but that's not the case, internalized misogyny is still rampant in media that promote it in a subtler way. One of them is of course Otome isekai, the genre of isekai taking place in a fantasy/historical romance book/video game within the stories universe.

everyone knows the good old classic shojo tropes that haven't been popular in years. A female lead who is pure and sweet, a handsome and powerful male lead who will save her with marriage, at least one other guy who will fawn over said female lead, the best friend with the personality of 2016 quirky memes, and of course the evil villainess with a design that is very obviously designed look evil, villains with a Ursula or the evil queen from snow white vibe if you will.

for a long time now in the manhwa community, one of the most popular tropes is an isekai/regression of a villainess who is hated by all. This likely isn't the very first one with this idea but villains are destined to die is one of the most popular with this trope, and it worked. Penelope still retains a level of evilness even with a new soul to keep up with the fact that the OG Penelope was the villain. The og fl Ivonne isn't exactly demonized either, her body is being possessed by a demon named Leila and her soul is stuck in a mirror so no woman is one archetype. VADTD was a phenomenon and it got people into the idea that a villain could be as best a protagonist as a heroine. The community however, had a problem. Even though it was made explicitly clear that Ivonne was not at fault, there were tens of hundreds of the novel readers who still blamed Ivonne instead of Leila. This is not the fault of the author of course but it would be a warning for what would come.

ever since that trope has become very popular due to the nuance it could give. Eventually someone came up with the idea that the typical pure and sweet fl would be the evil one instead, it worked for Cozy Glow so why not here? these fl's ended becoming ogfl's who were pick me's, cruel, crybabies, and most of all: incredibly stupid., this even went to stories that aren't within a novel by using characters who had that sweet angel vibe. They could never hold a candle to the new badass girl bosses because they're old school and like all the other vabid rich ladies. This idea alone wasn't bad but it has been watered down to the point of unoriginality and even writing a mess of a story. They want people to actually hate the ogfl for hurting the misunderstood former villainess and to do that, you'd think they would write them as these calculating manipulators who were not to be fucked with. At the same time though they want to prove how awesome and perfect their new protagonist is and there is a misconception that flaws/mistakes=weak female lead. This results in not just Mary-sues your expected to take seriously but also pathetic villainesses you can't even consider a real threat.

Here's an example of the watered down white lotus trope: Cosette Weinberg from Actually I was the real one. (the manhwa, AIWTRO novel is not as bad)

While not being an isekai but a regression story, Cosette defiantly is meant to resemble the sort of long lost royal daughter who shows up, gets bullied by the "fake" daughter and unlocks her own super epic power to become the best in all the land. In reality Cosette is dead and a demon is controlling her body and being able to use her elemental power is a mere bonus in controlling her body. Since she is a demon you'd think Cosette (or Ragibach) would be a terrifying menace which.. she was portrayed as at first. But she's the basic bitch pick me! so she should never be allowed to win even a small argument, because how else is Keira gonna be a girl boss? it'd be too bothersome to just let Cosette grow even more secretive and calculating so the suspense can actually be felt. The story was so obsessed with Keira being the perfect feminist power girl boss that they forgot that Cosette destroyed the world in the first timeline with ease and grace when they portray her as a screaming idiot who can't make smart decisions. It does the exact same thing that the old style did by inserting a woman to be a foil to the woman your supposed to like. This escalates to even women who support Cosette being villainized even if they don't know what she's like. Such as a maid named Mina, a poor girl picked up off the streets and essentially being used as a tool for Cosette. She commits all these evil henchman crimes for her master with her younger brothers safety and comfort being used as a hostage. Mina ends up getting deported and even suggested to be lashed 50 times for obeying someone who gave her no choice and instead of it being part of the cruel truth of the era, it's just supposed to be karma. Something similar happens to the antagonist of the villainess turns the hourglass Mielle, where she is effectively rendered too stupid to be a threat

This however doesn't stop at the villainesses being dumbed down, the fl Keira suffers the same flaws that the stereotypical shojo fl suffered from. In the novel Keira has no love interest, in the manhwa she has 2 guys, Joseph and Erez, who are into her and she can't decide who she likes more (it's probably gonna end up being Erez). her family was actively shoved to the side for more romance scenes where Keira becomes a crumbling mess. In the novel Zeke had a bigger role. So in the manhwas attempt to emulate the novel they just backpaddled on their efforts to fanfic write it with feminism even though the original was already pretty progressive for Keira.

Now Cosette is a product of the bad writing of a adaptation that feels more like a fanfic given how severe the changes are but at least for the most part, Actually I was the real one was mediocre

There is much worse. If you know me or my account you probably already know who is next. The Infamous Rashta from the remarried empress

Even if you haven't read remarried empress, the trashta nickname became incredibly famous for the white lotus villains of other manhwa. Rashta is a twisted version of the cinderella trope: the poor abused but also very gentle looking girl who finds her prince charming and becomes a queen.

This girl was a slave sold in childhood, and while her backstory is purposely kept in the dark because they don't want you sympathizing with someone they consider a whore who deserves everything that happens to her. It doesn't take much rocket science together to piece what happened. Rashta had been SA by one of her masters and got pregnant with her first child, she gave birth alone and her newborn baby was taken and replaced with a dead baby to emotionally scar her even further, It is implied that she was assaulted again before she runs away and she meets the emperor who makes her his concubine. For the rest of the manhwa her whole story feels like torture porn. Another one of her masters comes back to blackmail her using her child, her value being based on how many babies she can make, everyone basically hates her, her only friend is actively arranging her downfall, her final master becomes known as a sweet little sister of the empress Rashta used to idolize, her daughter is taken away from her the moment she was born, and at long last, she dies alone known as the most evil empress in history. This isn't even mentioning her age. It's never confirmed other than she is an adult but in the eastern empire it's time to debut as an adult at around 17 and given her design with the big eyes which are usually given to the younger characters. So this really sets up even sadder connotations knowing that Rashta could be as young as 17.

Now, how does this story get away with having a punching bag with THIS many tragic elements like this to make the fl Navier look better? well by making her egregiously evil, she can never make smart decisions in street smarts despite it contradicting her rough and tumble backstory, if there's a character your supposed to like getting away with terrible acts, just have Rashta rip out a tongue or betray a friend to entertain the masses! It'd be hard to feel bad when the character in question is going around looking to kill/ ruin the lives of innocents. While the novel did a better job giving Rashta more traits than just "haha I'm a slutty hypocrite" it's still like the manhwa.

I already made a post that goes more into detail about Remarried empresses internalized misogyny that you can check out below, or you could go onto my archive, there's a lot of remarried empress centered posts there too.

Like Keira, Navier isn't as revolutionary as the story wants you to think.

In season 1, Navier wasn't the worst fl ever. She worked hard as empress and while her personality was still a tad dull she seemed to have more character traits then she does now. After that she's just there, she's barely doing anything outside of sitting there looking pretty and getting pregnant with twins. We barley if ever see Navier even doing anything to deliver moments that make her interesting. She doesn't even do anything for her problems even after getting ice powers. It's all her husband and brother that just kill or threaten everyone who criticizes her, Navier barely feels like a main character at this point, she's a side character in her own story. She isn't the badass empress the characters tell you she is, Navier is just another empress who is basically the dream wife for a man in the 50s since she doesn't even need to love the man if she happens not to, she just wanted an empress title so she can feel like she has a purpose. Once again an example of a backpaddling of an attempt at a woman with more than 2 character traits.

The attempts to make you hate a specific character for not being "unique" even come across as embarrassing and even downright childish. Such as the case with her. The trope of the saintess sent as a commoner turned ugly

Diana's case is similar to Rashta's, as in they try REALLY hard to make her hateable even when it starts to lose logic. At first it made sense to call her out on abandoning the common folk when she became crown princess but when you actually read this piece, the hatred for her is centered around the fact that she was upset that a guy who loved her killed for her and she cut him off. Sounds straight out of an incels revenge fantasy. Most of the time Diana isn't even that evil, she has a lot of flaws and certainly isn't the greatest person but she's also not the devil incarnate, yet every time the story tries very hard to make her awful for rejecting a man. She has pink hair, she's angelic looking, she comes across as sweet and dainty yet she won't date the first guy who kills for her? well then that makes her a cruel bitch for not validating the impression she gave off to everyone.

but if you look like the worst gender bent of Therdeo possible with a lot of money to obnoxiously throw around then your super cool and not like the other gold digging bitches! 💅

Hestia is literally what these og fl have been reduced to except she's put in the protagonist position making her 10x insufferable to follow as the leading lady. She purposely provokes Diana hoping to get a reaction out of her so she can humiliate her as revenge in Cael's name without the plot even trying to say that Hestia is not in the right for attacking her husbands ex. The entire point of my derelict favorite is criticizing protagonist centered morality which I would be all here for if they didn't forget all about when writing the supposed feminist icon Hestia who literally attacks a woman and acting like said woman was at fault for her favorite character killing himself, she is literally the pick me girl that everyone claims to hate until she looks like she is a badass when she's not, she's just another case of a poorly made attempt at something "new". Thus Hestia was doomed to teach little girls attacking other women for petty reasons was okay as long as they were basic enough and not into the same boy band as you.

This one isn't as terrible as the last 3 but I'm the queen in this life is a subtler but still an example. Isabella is the deconstructed trope of the favorite child rich girl beginning her new exciting life with handsome men and easily the best into turning into a villainess thanks to the spoiled upbringing and at first... It worked until it flopped just two chapters later.

Like Cosette and Mielle, Isabella is supposed to be this really smart white lotus who manipulated her way into the top but now.. she's just a spoiled brat who cries whenever she can't get her way. She isn't even utilized. While Isabella is pure evil it's the fact that OTHER characters are condoned or given proper moments to shine as smart villains who can get the job done or even be seen as sympathetic and shippable. Ceasre is a good example too because even though he teamed up with Isabella in the last timeline, the later chapters are implying that it was only Isabella and Ceasre was just manipulated. They even give me daddy and mommy issues at the same time so now the commenters think he deserves a second chance even after he SA Ariadne. In fact... I don't there are any other female characters in this comic who are complex, stay alive and are not Ariadne. There was Arabella and Margarete but they got killed off, Sancha isn't so bad but she's still just a follower with nothing much left to her, Lariessa is just there to be the stereotypical crazy ex to make Ariadne look better for not being desperate for a man, Malleta is just a plot device to make things happen and eventually die herself and Lucrezia is basically just Lady Tremaine but worse.

What I meant by not as bad as the last 3, I meant that here in I'm the queen in this life, Ariadne is actually written decently. She actually makes her own decisions, she has a life outside of Alfonso, and she isn't totally insufferable. With her it's more centered around the Narrative trying to say she is ugly to be relatable when it's clear she's not.

quite a few times characters will point out how big her boobs are and how "scandalous" it is. Isabella says they hang like a cows udders, they become a prominent point of scandal when her dress tears at a ball and for some damn reason Isabella gropes her own sister.. So why is all that weird attention to detail even there? Because they want more ways for Ariadne to be sympathetic but they still want her to be conventionally beautiful so there goes any chance at actual relatability when it can easily be interpreted as Isabella just being jealous that she is flat chested.

The only other female characters that aren't leads or pathetic villainesses in this genre are typically the maids whos only personality is being a perfect yes-man that validates jumping on women they don't like either by yelling at them for not going head over heels for their boss or by assisting in ruining their lives.

and if the maid isn't a bland character with blind trust, they're written to be comically evil because once again, their jealous women who only want what the lead has.. and well. This ends up being justified

So is manhwa the only forms of media Internalized misogyny and double standards that runs rampant?

Personally, I am a firm believer that Miraculous ladybug played a role in instilling young girls with this kind of mindset that any girl who isn't a yes-man to you is lying, bratty and general evil bitch thanks to Thomas Astruc's gross views on what feminism is. He's the kind of guy who thinks that if you put a woman in pants and write her as the best hero of all time then that's feminism. First of all, Marinette's entire personality devolves into a rabid stalker for Adrien which is justified with ass pulled trauma in season 5 yet Chloe, who is a terrible person with trauma and chances to grow is somehow worse than a god damn domestic terrorist. 2nd of all, any woman who is also into Adrien is basically hunted down by Marinette like a PG-13 yandere, Kagami is targeted by Chloe and Marinette for being with Adrien and her relationship with him dies almost immediately not to mention that the fandom called her cacagami for months after season 3's release, hell they even pair her up with "I'm just a misunderstood boy with a dead father" Felix who looks identical to adrien.

Lila wasn't even doing anything worthy of Ladybug humiliating her. She lied about being related to a superhero and being besties with Ladybug, got close to Adrien and talked smack about Ladybug. Shitty but not worth Marinette transforming for the sole purpose of embarrassing Lila for daring to try and take Adrien from her as if he's a object. They can't even utilize the girl later despite being allies with Gabriel. Zoe isn't even a damn person, She's just someone's wattpad self insert to show up, be the perfect new girl and replace Chloe using the power of kindness.

but the men? Gabriel is destroying Paris as Hawkmoth and abusing Adrien as a dad? Oh it was just for his wife, remember him as a tragic villain who was trying to be a good dad. Felix tries to forcefully kiss Marinette and gives all the miraculous to Gabe? He's got daddy issues let him live happily with Kagami. Andre is a pos father and abuses his power for either his or his daughters gain? He wouldn't be like that if Audrey didn't use her womanly charms to force him to give up his dreams to be a Politian. See all the damn excuses put up. Not to mention Ladybug rejecting Cat noirs advances is considered her being harsh and mean thanks to the proof of sad music playing and the constant shipping of the two by other characters.

One of the most popular webtoons that is universally hated now as well

Leuce was the first wife of Hades in Greek mythology whom he loved until her death and she became a poplar tree in Elysium. In Lo, Leuce is bastardized as this gold digging nymph who wants to ruin a relationship. She exists for the purpose of making Persephone look better because she home wrecked for superficial reasons therefore Hades grooming Persephone is fine because at least it is for "love"

Persephone's kidnapping was the literal center of Demeter's Hymn on the pain mothers at the time felt when their daughters were kidnapped and sold to marry powerful men and while it is often rewritten in a way where Demeter is over-protective and Persephone just wants freedom, LO does it the worst. The worse part is that it is pretty well known that the relationship between Hades and Persephone is inspired by Humbert and Dolores from Lolita given that some panels are eerily similar to the Lolita movie. Somehow Demeter is still the most evil one since she isn't making it easy for Blue Humbert to get with her 19 year old daughter. To give you an idea how big the age gap is, Hades was already thousands of years old when he gave Demeter a gift for her baby shower...

And Minthe, who in Greek myth was a mistress of Hades that got too cocky and was turned into a mint plant by Persephone, was the first girlfriend of Hades who got treated like shit by his family members for being a nymph. She gets emotionally cheated on and is considered crazy when she gets upset about it. Everyone rubs it in her face that Persephone is with her boyfriend even after she stopped getting it on with Thanatos the moment they became official. She still gets turned into a mint plant and the trauma Persephone caused her had no consequences.

all 3 women pit against eachother, 2 demonized for not being the "good" kind of woman and 1 being actively groomed and taken away from her mother and it's supposed to be a positive moment.

Its all this and more that has damaged the thinking of hundreds of thousands of girls and women into suspecting that any other woman is out to get them if they feel inconvenienced, it encourages the pick me girl mindset that pits women against eachother while the men who encourage it sit back and watch and it downplays the shitty actions of abusive men while blowing womens flaws out of proportion. Nowadays if a female character is introduced that isn't the lead or a loyal maid, readers are already out to call her a bitch and wish for her downfall. Helena from kill the villainess is an unfortunate victim of these consequences.

We could all do so much better if we realized how stupid it is to constantly pit women against eachother for no reason.

Thank you for sticking around for my little essay.

[laszlo-writes]

Trying to have some comfort and enjoy one of my favorite films - Penelope starring Christina Ricci, of course - when I’m hit with the absolute sucker-punch of a line “once the queen is dead, the game is over.”

Fellas, one of these days I’m really going to do it :))

[titaswrld]

seventy-six percent

description: your boyfriend hasn’t fucked you in weeks and you’re tired of it, your best friend fred helps you get laid!

paring: theodore nott x fem! reader fred weasley x reader platonic!

contains: smut! 18+, minors dni, mentions of alcohol, sex, p in v

w.c: 1.1k

|an: came up w this idea last night and i luv luv luv it! hope u guys do too.

“cmon, fred, please? it’s been weeks. i’d do it for you, you know?" you’d said to your best friend, fred weasley, during lunch. it has been weeks since your boyfriend last fucked you. you don’t know why or what’s gone wrong. but you were convinced it was some sick game he was playing. he wouldn’t encourage your sexual behaviors, nor initiate anything, and you were fed up.

although, now that you really think about it, it might’ve been your fault, considering the last pillow talk session you and theo had, you told him jokingly that you’d probably last longer than him without sex.

you lied.

you’re growing desperate. you tried to ease the ache in your lower stomach by attempting to please yourself, but it’s not the same; it’s not him. you can’t put up.

“you’re absolutely nuts if you think i’m going to purposefully make theodore nott jealous. do you want me dead? is that what this is?!” fred exclaimed with a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “you think you know a gal,” he tutted, shaking his head.

you’d pressed your lips into a thin line, reaching into your head to find something that would make fred fold. “i’ll do your homework for a week? two? brew the potions for yours and george’s pranks? "c'mon freddie, be reasonable here.” you’d said with a pout.

“how about covering the cost of my funeral?” he’d deadpanned with a slight smirk. ugh, you’d thought. i guess i’ll have to…

“fine! i’ll do yours and george’s homework for a month so you can work on products. and make sure theo doesn’t do anything rash.” you exclaimed, god, your social life is going to be over, but at least you’ll finally get some dick.

fred’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. "sounds absolutely perfect. see you tonight. pleasure doing business with you, by the way!” he yelled out to you, already walking away, to go grab george and tell him the great news.

you’d sighed, hands holding your head from faceplanting into the hardwood table. it’ll be worth it, you told yourself.

this might, hands down. be the best you’ve ever looked in your life. your low-rise jean mini skirt hugged your hips and thighs perfectly. black long sleeve fitted crop top outlining your breasts and showing just the right amount of stomach, and black knee-high boots covering your calves. you looked to die for.

you do have to admit that you are a little nervous, though. fred and theo are both very unpredictable people. you had just hoped that fred wouldn’t cross the line too much and that theo would do nothing more than drag you up to his dorm and fuck you. considering this is a slytherin party, your chances of this outcome were maybe seventy-six percent?, which is good enough for you!

after overthinking and shuffling through every possible outcome, you finally stepped out of your dorm to meet fred in the common room so you could make your way to the slytherin common room together.

fred took a bow, as if you were queen lizzie herself, and offered you a hand to lead you down the last two steps of the staircase.

“madam?” he’d said in a posh voice, causing you to let out a laugh and take his hand to walk down the last of the steps. as you reached the bottom, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

“no, but really. you do look good. i’d say there’s a great probability you’re getting laid tonight, with my help especially.” he’d said playfully and nudged you as you both exited the common room together.

“a girl can hope!” you’d whispered, now sneaking around the hallways with him to reach the slytherin common room.

“this is ridiculous!” you whisper-yelled into fred’s ear over the loud music blaring over the common room. you both hadn’t seen theo once tonight, and you and fred have been all over each other all night. getting close, whispering in each other's ears, taking shots together, even dancing together—nothing. the party was now coming to a close, and you still haven’t seen theo.

“i know, you’d think he’d show his face by now, or kick my ass or something" fred responded with his hand placed on the small of your back to get you as close as possible to him, so he could hear you better, of course.

theo had seen everything. he leaned against the wall in front of you covered by dancing bodies. he was alone, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hand practically crushing the cup full of alcohol he’d had since the party began. he had a sick feeling in his stomach; he couldn’t even try to take a sip of his alcohol; afraid it would give him the courage to stomp over there and beat fred weasley’s ass. he saw everything. the touches, whispers, and dancing. all of it, and now he stood over you, hand on your back, bodies pressed together, whispering into each other's ears over the loud music? that’s enough.

theo stomped his cigarette out, slammed his cup on a nearby table, and made his way over to you and fred.

“you’re coming with me,” he’d said under his breath, grabbing your arm and whisking you away from your friend. shocked, you’d said, and did nothing but let him take you upstairs. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell fred bye, but oh well. he’ll be just fine. he did his duty, and you’ll have to do yours too. at least it was a mission accomplished.

“fuck, theo.” you pleaded and moaned against his neck as he pounded into you at a rapid and unforgiving pace, the both of you slick with sweat as you'd been at it for hours.

“you like that? or would you rather have fred’s cock pounding into you like this? huh?” theo growled out as he pulled out, awaiting your response.

“no— no no theo baby please. just you, only you.” you’d babble, hating the feeling of emptiness he’d left you with.

theo plunged his cock back into your wet cunt, continuing his harsh pace and letting out a breathy laugh. “that’s what i thought.”

all you could manage to do was moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders as you both neared your climaxes.

you could feel your brain go absolutely numb as his pace never faltered. you’d managed to breathe out a "theo... im gonna—“

“cum, cara mia. on my cock, baby.” theo said between thrusts, his own release about to reach a close as his hips began to stutter.

“theo!” you’d screamed out as the tightness in your stomach snapped. the yell of his name that escaped your lips, pushing him over the edge as well.

god, now i have double the homework for a month. was your first post-orgasm thought..worth it. was your last as you drifted off to sleep in theos arms.

[babydollmarauders]

WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which jack hughes should be afraid of what y/n can do to his reputation

notes: yeah, idk what this is either; there’s not much plot.

september 16th, 2023

deuxmoi

24,107 likes

deuxmoi pop sensation, y/n, is seen hands on with new boy toy?

if anyone has any information on who this man is, do come forward! we’d love to know who america’s queen of heartbreak anthems is with now!

view all 549 comments

user82 the hand placement?! HELLO?!

user3 oh great, new music where she makes herself some sad victim again

user55 a new love album next?! maybe?!

user09 let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s some low grade pap photos posted on a gossip blog. it could’ve been a first date for all we know

user45 @/user09 with the way they are in these pics? absolutely NOT a first date. y/n has famously said she doesn’t get “frisky” early on because of her ex. most definitely a bf

user92 oh her next song is gonna HIT

user06 that guy kinda looks…. where were these taken and when?

deuxmoi all the sender said was that they saw them in michigan last night! know something?

user06 hmm the tl matches! that looks like it could be @/jackhughes , a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils!

user98 OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!

user67 those hands?! girlie better never let him go!

september 27th, 2023

y/nofficial

liked by sabrinacarpenter and 4,628,961 others

y/nofficial every dead end street led you straight to me 🤍

view all 7,923 comments

user72 SOFT LAUNCH OH MY GOD

user5 oh he’s got her using emojis?! she’s down BAD

user29 i’m so happy for her, she deserves so much love and happiness and it seems like he gives that to her 🫶

user6 MOTHER?!

user01 what poor boy did she sink her claws into this time?

user9 if you don’t like her, why are you on her post? obsessed much?

sabrinacarpenter he scored 😉

y/nofficial sab!! nah, i think i did!

user92 he better be treating her damn good! it’s what she deserves after ‘he who shall not be named’!

user76 i know who you meant but also started giggling at the idea of her writing an album about voldemort 😭

y/nofficial @/user76 gasp! don’t you know who lover is about?! the dark lord and i just couldn’t make it work :(

october 10th, 2023

jackhughes

liked by y/nofficial, nicohischier, and 815,736 others

jackhughes as a wise woman once said: “i was enchanted to meet you”

tagged y/nofficial

view all 2,865 comments

y/nofficial my sweet boy 🤍

jackhughes my pretty girl

user76 A HARD LAUNCH

user94 THEY’RE SO SICKENINGLY CUTE 😭 SHE DESERVES THIS

user36 JACK IS DATING Y/N?! OH THE SONGS THAT WILL COME OUT OF THIS

user8 he could do so much better

lhughes_06 about damn time

trevorzegras JACK WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE JOKING

user02 oh they’re so cute 🥹

dawson1417 did you just… hard launch with the biggest singer in america rn?

jackhughes y/n says “what? like it’s hard?” idk what that means

user16 can we talk about how happy she looks?! and i know her hockey loving self is giggling and kicking her feet over her landing a hockey player! too cute!!

john.marino97 if her next RED-like album is about you, i’m requesting a trade. can’t believe i’m gonna have to listen to songs about YOU

january 1st, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by jackhughes and 5,827,025 others

y/nofficial thank you 2023, you brought so much love and laughter 🤍 can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!

tagged jackhughes

view all 7,503 comments

user86 oh she’s so down bad she was taking pics of him at his game 😭

user9 one tour pic and three pics regarding to jack? she’s so in love

jackhughes here’s to another year with you, my talented girl

y/nofficial i can’t wait for another year with you, my love 🤍

user55 i can’t wait to see you in KC this year!!

user7 she’s truly living her best life and i’m obsessed!!

user21 i hope 2024 is just as good to you as 2023 was!

january 26th, 2024

deuxmoi

36,592 likes

deuxmoi fan submission: trouble in paradise?

pop sensation, y/n, and her boyfriend, hockey player Jack Hughes, were seen out by a fan last night. the fan claims that they overheard y/n consoling Jack about his recent injury that has left him unable to play. in the video (on our site), you can hear y/n telling Jack “i know not playing is hard, i know it’s sad-”. Jack is heard cutting her off and snapping “you don’t get to tell me about sad. you don’t get it, so stop acting like you do.”according to the fan, y/n left the date alone and in tears.

what do you guys think, is this couple over?

view all 1,251 comments

user29 wow what an asshole, she was just trying to be comforting

user4 wtf?

user07 yeah, can’t say i didn’t expect them to end soon enough

user99 she was trying to comfort him and he snapped at her? yeah, i’d hope they’re over

user20 she deserves better

user19 it’s just an argument, everyone is being so overdramatic

user3 do i think they’re over? no. if we know anything about y/n, it’s that she’s forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

user67 i don’t think they’re broken up but if she was leaving alone and crying, i hope they will be soon enough

user82 has anyone thought that maybe he didn’t need comforting?

user13 umm, obviously he did if he snapped at her

user98 idk about everyone else, but i do think they’re broken up if she left alone and was visibly upset

user23 oh i can’t wait to hear what she writes about him. i’ve known he seemed too good to be true

february 14th, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by oliviarodrigo and 7,431,846 others

y/nofficial happy valentines to my favorite boy 🤍

the most kind-hearted, respectful, and loving man i’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to call mine. nobody is perfect, but i think you’re pretty close to it. i’m so eternally grateful to have you in my life 🤍

tagged jackhughes

view all 278 comments

user6 oh, she’s still with him

user02 y/n, baby, please come to your senses

user14 i don’t like him at all after last month

jackhughes happy valentines, beautiful girl ❤️

user65 “nobody is perfect” oh, mother is telling us rn

comments on this post are now limited

march 23rd, 2024

deuxmoi

29,783 likes

deuxmoi looks like y/n and her hockey beau have called it quits! eagle eyed fans spotted last night that they’ve unfollowed each other on instagram and y/n deleted all photos of him.

previously, y/n ONLY followed jack, now she’s back down to 0, which fans seem to read as a finality to their relationship.

view all 1,736 comments

user95 about time! after that spat in january, i feel like everyone was waiting for this

user72 EVERYONE MOVE! EVERYONE REJOICE! MOTHER IS FREE!

user24 GOOD RIDDANCE!!

user61 can’t wait to hear who the catalyst was, him or her?

user3 obviously she’ll make herself out to be the victim

user61 @/user3 tell me you’ve never actually listened to y/n without telling me you’ve never actually listened to y/n 🙄 she doesn’t shy away from admitting if she was the one who ruined a relationship, she admits she has problems and that sometimes she gets in her own head

user8 it was obviously him after that video in january

user23 everyone is celebrating but have we stopped for a second to realize that she’s probably really heart broken right now?

user70 fr! like, she seemed so in love with him and i feel so bad for her. she seemed to love him a lot more than her exes and we all know she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, so she was probably imagining marriage and babies with him and then he showed his true colors

april 1st, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by tatemcrae and 14,698,276 others

y/nofficial there’s always a fool, but i guess all’s fair in love and poetry… new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out May 14 🩶

but surprise! the first and only single, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? comes out April 19 🩶

view all 3,279 comments

user18 MOTHER DOES NOT PLAY!!! AHHH

user63 may 14th 💀 she said “i’m not fucking around, y’all WILL know who this is about.”

user9 significance of may 14th?

user63 @/user9 it’s jack’s birthday 💀

user00 OH SHE MUST REALLY HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY IF SHE’S ACTUALLY DROPPING A SINGLE BEFORE THE ALBUM

user78 i wonder if jack feels stupid yet

user12 new y/n album before GTA6

user93 the vibes??? mother didn’t write an album, she wrote a EULOGY

april 19th, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by john.marino97 and 9,726,820 others

y/nofficial at this hearing, i stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? out now.

view all 2,738 comments

user72 i’m speechless

user2 “you don’t get to tell me about sad” SHE REALLY FUCKING DID THAT

user33 I AM IN SHOCK!

user94 MOTHER CALLED HIM OUT

user78 once again i ask, @/jackhughes do you feel stupid yet?

user61 dude just got surgery and she still came for his neck 😭

user09 i mean, not like she was gonna change the release date just because of that but it’s still so 😭

user22 “the scandal was contained….. at all costs keep your good name” she really spoke on the january spat, didn’t she?

user12 “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?”

user77 @/jackhughes you should be

john.marino97 🩶🩶

user82 oh he’s MESSY! i love it 💀

user50 tbh, i look at this single like a warning. it sounds like jack didn’t think it through before he broke her heart and didn’t think she would speak on him, but she’s warning him right now that he should be scared because she has a lot to say about him and their relationship

user31 she’s so— i love her

february 8th, 2025

y/nofficial posted on their story

february 10th, 2025

y/nofficial

liked by john.marino97 and 11,762,936 others

y/nofficial brand new, full throttle <3

view all 3,627 comments

user93 i- did she just inadvertently tell us we’ve all been wrong about who So High School is about?

user77 this is the fastest she’s ever gotten into a new relationship and you know that means she has to be in LOVE

user04 AHHHHH Y/N AND JOHN MARINO

user82 how do you know it’s him? she didn’t even tag anyone and you can’t see his face

user04 @/user82 she posted john on her story a couple days ago! they’re on vacation together while he’s on bye-week!

user23 i don’t wanna get ahead of myself but,,, they met through jack, did they not? and now they’re dating? mother is messy

user51 is it messy? yeah, maybe- but people have already looked back through old interviews of his, and she’s been his celeb crush for a WHILE now. and i mean, hey, she’s dating someone only a couple years older than her now, one can only assume he’s more mature than j*ck

user92 the way she clings onto him 🥹

user88 she deserves happiness, i really hope he gives that to her 🫶

john.marino97 i knew what i wanted and i got her ♥️

[lady-ashfade]

A Son For A Son

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2

╰･ﾟ✧☽ first fic here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.

It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.

The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”

“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.

“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.

“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”

Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.

“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.

“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”

Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.

the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.

“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.

“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”

aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.

a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.

And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.

curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.

“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.

guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.

“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.

“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,

Your mother.

[yogurtkags]

❝ DISTANT DESIRES ❞ — miya atsumu (18+)

cw. MDNI, f!reader, timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, pet names (baby, princess, darling), fluff to smut, sexting, sending risqué photos, teasing, phone sex, masturbation, language, dirty talk, not beta read word count. ~ 2.3k synopsis. atsumu’s away and misses the way you feel against his skin before a big game.

shutting down and closing your laptop, you push yourself up from the uncomfortable desk chair, groaning as you twist and turn, popping your neck and back as you stretch the tense muscles. another day at the office, done and dusted.

you switch out your fluffy fox office slippers for the black slingbacks you came in, walking towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the scene before you. the sun has set, the moon slowly coming out to play — it’s a friday night, groups of friends and couples alike take the streets to celebrate the end of a busy work week. city lights shine over the crowded roads, hustle and bustle illuminated by the vibrant colours of osaka’s nightlife.

you’d be one with the crowd below if not for the fatigue of crunch time seeping deep into your bones, it’s been one hell of a day, a week even, you’ve lost all concept of time, feeling a little more drained than usual without your love here.

the msby black jackals have a series of away games in tokyo, so naturally, atsumu’s been away for the past couple of days, and you miss him dearly. you understood why he had to go, it just didn’t make sense for him to make the commute everyday and waste precious time that could be spent resting, even if it meant still being by your side. it doesn’t make you miss him any less though, you’ve never been apart from him for more than a day since he asked you to move in with him two summers ago, and you feel it even more so now that he’s put on a ring on your finger.

casting one last look at the files and mountains of paperwork, you sigh, packing up your things and swinging your tote over your shoulder, preparing to finally leave the office. the rest of the floor is empty and the lights are dimmed, pretty much everyone in the building has already left for the night. honestly you were too busy to even notice, feeling stressed is an understatement with multiple deadlines looming.

bzzt. bzzt. your phone buzzes as you’re exiting the main elevator and walking to your parked car— 2 new messages from tsumu ♡

tsumu ♡ : hi princess tsumu ♡ : i miss you

just his name alone is enough to perk you up and put a smile on your weary face, spreading a warmth in your soul, like a fireplace crackling to life in a chilly cabin up in the northern mountains in the dead of winter.

me : hi baby me : i miss you too :(

climbing into the driver's seat, you allow yourself to sink into the leather seats, quickly shooting him a message that you'll be driving in case you take a while to respond and that you'll text him when you get home, getting the car started and heading home.

in the meantime, atsumu's sprawled out on his back over the plush ivory sheets on his queen bed, fresh out of the shower after practice and dinner with the boys, lazily toying with his phone while staring at the ceiling. he thinks the bed's much too large for just him alone, still defaulting to laying on his side of the bed — it's a force of habit that comes with living together, missing the warmth of your embrace and the scent of your strawberry vanilla shampoo lingering on what would've been your pillow.

he knows you’ve been slaving away at work while he was gone, you’re usually home by now but if you’re only just leaving the office at this hour, you’re probably clocking voluntary overtime just to clear as much off your plate as possible. you never liked bringing work home anyway.

he hopes you’ve been taking care of yourself, not that you don’t normally, but you tend to get stuck in your head sometimes when you’re busy and pushed to the limits. regardless, he always worries, despite you telling him that you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself, that he shouldn’t worry his pretty lil head about you.

atsumu thinks he has a growing distaste for away games. they usually mean that he has to be away from you, meaning he’s a tad bit more grouchy than usual, a bit more snappy, much to the team’s chagrin. there’s no point searching the stands for you when you won’t be there, no you to kiss him good luck before lining up, no you to dick down the night before for some fun, overnight loving and a good night’s sleep.

well, lady luck seems to be on his side because little did he know, you’d be coming home to find a very exciting parcel sitting at your doorstep.

you on the other hand, are slightly puzzled. strange, you didn’t receive any delivery notifications, but you won’t say no to a haul. who knows, it might just be what you need at the end of a shitty day, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt nobody.

stepping out of your shoes and leaving your coat hung by the door, you bring the cardboard box up on your kitchen counter, carefully slicing it open with the first knife you could find. with a gasp, you lift up the contents of the box to find a very lovely set of lace lingerie. i forgot i ordered this.

in a burst of excitement, you immediately bring the dainty piece of fabric to the bedroom, peeling off your black pencil skirt and white button up. putting it on, you stand in front of floor length mirror, hands lightly tracing over the fine details of patterned lace in admiration. it’s beautiful, hugging your figure in all the right places, and you happen to know someone who would love it even more.

flicking on the light switch of your shared walk-in closet, your eyes zero-in on a green shoe box sitting in the corner of the room. it’s tucked away, no one’s ever really needed it, the contents being kept more so for nostalgic purposes, but you’re really hoping what you’re looking for is still in there.

kneeling down to open it up, you come face to face with atsumu’s high school jersey. inarizaki’s #7. perfect, just what you were looking for.

with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you put the jersey on. atsumu’s definitely grown larger and more buff in the several years since high school, but he wasn’t by any means small to begin with, the dri-fit material hanging loose on your frame and ending right by your upper thighs.

it unfortunately no longer smells like him, having been kept away for that long, but just a little spritz of his perfume should do the trick. it’s a far cry from having him here with you but it’ll do for now.

crawling into bed and getting tangled in the soft sheets, you raise the hem of the jersey just to tastefully expose your skimpily clad lower half, arching your back just a little and angling your phone to snap a photo. you’ve definitely taken more risqué photos in the past, for sure, but given you were both apart, much farther than just a short drive, you know this will be enough to set him off, leaving just enough room for imagination.

less than a minute after you hit send, your phone rings with an incoming call and checking the caller ID, sure enough, it’s atsumu.

biting back a smile, you feign innocence, propping your phone up between your ear and shoulder, picking at your manicured nails as you lean back against the soft pillows, “hi tsumu, everything okay?”

“come on, don’t play coy with me now baby, with my jersey too? you know exactly what you’re doin’.”

he is, as always, so so easy to rile up.

with a giggle, you egg him on, “i just wanted to show you what came in the mail today, isn’t it pretty?”

“it is, looks ravishing on you darling. you know exactly what i like don’t you? it’s in my favourite colour too.”

atsumu hums in delight, bringing the phone closer to his mouth and voice dropping barely above a whisper and muttering out the next few words, “though i must say, i think it looks better on the floor.”

you can’t help but bring your bottom lip between your teeth, sinful thoughts begin to run through your mind about what the night entails if this carries on. making sure he can hear your pouting through the phone, “mhmm but you’re not here to undress me, strip me of my clothes one article at a time.”

atsumu pictures you in your shared bed, mind conjuring images of you slowly peeling off your clothes, nipples perked as the cool night air hits your skin, peeking through the sheer lace fabric. he was already sporting a semi hard on, the beginning of an erection provoked by the delicious photo you sent earlier.

he can’t help but reach a hand down to touch himself over his boxers, letting out a desperate and breathy whine that you recognise all too well, “s-shit— baby, please, just help me out here.”

your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat at the realisation, a wave of pleasure going straight to your heat.

breathing out an okay, you wiggle into a more comfortable position, bringing the collar of his jersey up to your nose and taking a deep inhale of his fragrance, closing your eyes and letting his voice and your imagination do the work for you.

your hands trail down your sides, pulling the delicate panties aside and letting your fingers brush against your clit, folds already glistening with arousal from the mere thoughts of atsumu laying in his bed, naked skin glazed with a sheen of sweat and pleasuring himself to pictures of you.

"talk to me, baby. can you describe to me what you’re doing?”

“touching myself, rubbing my clit.” you gasp, “feels good.”

“yeah? good girl, apply a little more pressure and when you’re ready, put a finger in for me?” he shakily breathes out, "i bet ya look real pretty right now."

you do as you’re told, clenching around your finger, his simple praise shooting straight to your core. oh how quickly the tables have turned, from taunting him to eagerly following his instructions without any second thoughts.

you can almost hear the wet sounds of his hand spreading the precum over his length and his strokes over his cock gradually increasing in speed, his voice breathless and broken,"that's it baby, slide another finger in?”

“that’s my good girl. imagine it's my thick fingers in your pussy right now." you moan at the delicious sensation, eyes squeezed shut as you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt. he hasn't been gone for long but you miss him so much, in more ways than one.

“i miss you so much, miss being inside you, your pretty face when you’re moaning my name, hmm?”

reaching up and rolling your nipples through the thin lace, you moan, “i do, i m-hah, miss you too tsumu!”

at this point, days worth of stress melts away as you chase your release, mind overwhelmed with pleasure as the saccharine voice of your lover leads you to an orgasm.

“i can’t wait to get back and fuck you for real, just doesn’t feel the same without you.” it’s almost like his phone is on his pillow right next to his face, sweet moans and groans tumbling out of atsumu’s mouth, straight into your ears, almost like he’s right here with you caged below him, breathing into your neck.

despite the distance, he feels so close, almost like he can touch you if he just reached forward, “keep going baby, don’t stop.”

your orgasm is building much faster than you initially anticipated, pleasure ripping through you as his wrecked voice and whimpering pushes you closer and closer to the edge as tears line your closed lids and threaten to spill over your cheeks.

“a-atsu!” you cry with urgency, grinding your sensitive bundle of nerves into the palm of your hand, barely holding on to the cusp of release. “atsu i’m gonna—“

“come on, let go f'me pretty.”

with a high-pitched cry, your body stiffens and the coil in your abdomen finally snaps, squeezing tight and releasing all over your fingers.

atsumu pictures it all too well, your muscles contracting under soft skin as you cum to his encouragement— that was the last push he needed and he’s letting out a string of expletives and sharp moans, sinking into the pale sheets as his release sputters over his stomach and lower abdomen.

the both of you lay in silence for a few moments, catching your breath as you come down from the high. you hear some movement through the phone, presumably atsumu cleaning up the mess he made on himself, before collapsing on the firm mattress again.

"man, i wish i could hold you and kiss you all over your pretty face." you can even hear the pout in his voice, heart clenching as you yearn to kiss it off his handsome face. all you can do at the moment is hum in response, wrapping your arms around a pillow and tucking your face into his jersey that you still had on, inhaling the scent of his perfume now mixed with your sweat, pretending that he’s here in bed with you.

regardless, you’re spent, the post-orgasm sleepiness paired with the long day you just had hitting you all at once and your eyes flutter shut, softly mumbling with a tired yet satisfied smile, “i love you, atsumu.”

“i love you too, princess.” atsumu sighs in quiet longing, “i’ll see you soon okay? be back before ya know it.”

bzzt. bzzt. just as he’s about to drift off into slumber, his phone buzzes with an unread message from kiyoomi in the adjoining suite next to his— 1 new message from omi-omi

omi-omi : next time you’re calling your fiancé and beating your meat, please keep it down

notes. @atsumou surprise >:) was listening to snooze - sza while adding the last touches reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!reader; Aegon II x wife!reader

Summary: All of Aemond's life, Aegon has tormented him. When Aemond's plan is set in motion, he hopes the reader moves right into his arms.

Part 2

Masterlist

...............................................................

"My queen." Aemond murmured out into the quiet space of the library. 

Y/n looked up, her brows furrowed. She abandoned the book she was reading, not caring what becomes of it. 

She immediately runs to Aemond, wrapping her arms around him. "You're back," she said with a muffled voice against his chest.

He stiffened, not quite returning the hug. 

She pulled away, taking his face in her hands, "Are you alright?" Her eyes scanned his face carefully, "Tell me you are."

He nodded with a huff, his hands gripping her wrists. "Fine."

Her lips pulled into a small smile and she dropped her hands. "Good. Good. And…?"

The question hung in the air. 

Aemond hummed, "Meleys and her rider Rhaenys are both dead."

Her eyes widened. "Dead?"

"Slain by the king."

She looked down at her hands in thought.

Aemond knew what she wanted to ask. 

But he wouldn't give it to her. 

Make her work for it.

"And is… is Aegon alright?"

There it was. 

Of course the pretty little thing cared for that beast of a man.

Aemond only stared at her with a tilted head. 

"Aemond…?" She asked with a now scared expression.

Finally, he spoke, "He's being carried to his room now."

…

"A betrothal, you say?" Lord Baratheon asked with a curious brow.

"Yes," Aemond confirmed. "A betrothal of your daughter to me, as the second son and next in line for the throne."

"An excellent match, indeed," Baratheon mulled over. 

Y/n Baratheon stood idly by her father, a confused look on her face. 

Surely her father wouldn't just-

"Very well, my prince."

Aemond couldn't stop the smirk that grew on his face. 

In all honestly, he had come empty handed. Aegon and Alicent had not sent him with a barter in mind. 

But when he saw Y/n, he came up with the idea himself. 

Mother wouldn't mind. Y/n Baratheon was a wise match, and anything to further our allies along would be no issue. 

And Y/n was beautiful.

Perhaps that's why Aegon had to take her from him. 

…

She had ran as fast as she could up to the king's chambers. Though Aemond's legs were quite a bit longer than hers, he had to sprint to keep up.

She threw the door open.

Aegon laid in the bed, his body mangled from dragon fire. 

A horrified shriek left her throat.

Aemond felt a cold shiver run down his spine at it. 

She moved forward, but he wrapped an arm around her to keep her from going. 

She wanted to have the strength to fight him, she really did. But, she couldn't bring herself to.

She turned into his chest, beginning to wail against him. 

Aemond brought his other hand up to run over her hair as he whispered mocking cooes into her ear. 

Although Aegon still lived, perhaps his plan could still work. 

…

Aemond grabbed her waist, helping her down the last few feet of the climb down Vhagar's side. 

Once her feet reached stone, she finally took in King's Landing. "I see why everyone wants to be here," she said to him. 

"A blessing only for some, my dear doe," he mused and offered his arm. 

…

She never left Aegon's bedside. 

It was sickening to Aemond, really. 

That she'd be that devoted to that little scumb-

"My prince," Cole stated. 

Aemond turned, seeing the Hand there with a curious brow. "Forgive me, Ser Cole. I seem to be lost in my thoughts."

"Yes. Yes, I understand."

The silence was deafening, a ringing sound in their ears due to the lack of anything else.

"If this is for her," Cole finally said. "It won't work."

"Everyone is a mere pawn in the great game," Aemond said with a tight lip.

Criston moved to say more, but stopped himself. He moved to the door before pausing, "As long as the king lives, she'll never be yours."

…

"Baratheon, you said?" Aegon frowned. His head turned to Aemond, "Brother, I sent you for an army and you come back with a betrothal?"

"If you'll bless it, my king." Aemond said with a clenched jaw. 

Aegon's focus moved back to the girl, "Pretty, aren't you?"

Y/n stood a bit behind Aemond, an intimidated look on her face at the sight of the Iron Throne. 

Aemond quickly moved in front of her to block her from Aegon's gaze, "The Baratheons are on our side if you do this."

Alicent turned to Aegon, "Darling, we need this."

Aegon tilted his head, and a haunting smile came over his face. He stood, taking a long stretch before walking down the stairs of the throne. 

He stood only a few feet from Aemond, "Move."

Aemond's jaw clenched but he took a step to the side.

Aegon now drank in the girl in front of him fully. His head tilted as he circled her with slow, menacing steps, "Very pretty for a Baratheon."

Aemond noticed the ever-growing look of fear in her eyes. He moved forward, but Alicent caught his arm.

Aegon stopped in front of the girl, looking right into her eyes. His voice was low, "I have a better proposition."

The one-eyed brother felt his stomach drop. But Aegon had already began to leave the throne room, leaving him to wonder what devious ploy his brother was making that would his life that much worse.

…

Aemond paused outside the door.

It was eating him from the inside. 

He opened it slowly, bracing himself for the sight.

Aegon laid in the bed, unmoving as he had been.

Y/n was in the chair next to the bed. Her hands gripped Aegon's undamaged one, and she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the bed.

Aemond should've left them, but he didn't. 

He rounded the bed to Aegon's side of it, his eye roaming over the extensive burns. 

He should've finished it when he had the chance.

Killed Cole when he saw.

He wanted the girl to come to him for comfort. 

Now, she wasted away next to the king that was almost a corpse. 

If Aemond just killed the king now in bed while she remained unknowing, perhaps that would seal their fates together.

His finger grazed the blade of Aegon the Conqueror when she began to stir.

She looked up with glossy eyes and a groggy voice came out, "Aemond?"

He looked to her.

She had gotten no sleep besides small cat naps. Dark circles under her eyes and a slight hallowing look to her cheeks.

"When was the last time you left this room, little doe?"

She tilted her head in confusion, "I… well…"

"When?" He pressed.

When she didn't answer, he hummed, moving to the door and barking something at one of the guards outside of it. 

When he returned, he moved to her this time. He ran a hand through her hair, "Your hair is unkept."

She nodded, "I don't care about hair right now, Aemond."

"You know that's not what I meant."

She let out a sigh, "Doesn't matter."

A small laugh left him. "Lean back."

"What?"

He brought his hands up, pulling her to rest her back against the back of the chair. His hand gripped her chin and made her look away from him.

His hands began to work through her hair. 

Aemond was gentle.

It surprised her to see anything with the blood of a dragon, much less Aemond, be calm and gentle with her.

She let out a soft hum when he hit a certain spot, and he smirked. 

Like putty in his hands.

He began to section her hair, his long fingers taking the strands easily.

"What are you-"

"Quiet. Just sit and let me care for you."

She didn't move. Didn't speak. 

As Aemond Targaryen began to braid her hair. 

It was no intricate weave. But it was a steady braid. 

He tied it off and studied it, critiquing it in his head. He hummed and moved back in her eyesight.

Her eyes were glossy, "Thank you."

He shrugged lightly, "Don't."

"Why not? You've always cared for me. Even when…" he voice trailed off when she looked over to Aegon.

His gaze followed hers, remembering Aegon's dying presence. "Right."

A servant entered with a tray of food and Aemond immediately stood and took it from them. 

He moved back to the girl, setting the tray on the bed in front of her, "Now, eat."

"Aemond, I'm not-"

"Eat, pretty doe," he almost demanded.

She looked up to him, studying him before nodding, "Fine."

He watched her as she began to eat. 

Aemond hummed, "Finish, and we will go on a walk."

She shook her head, "I shouldn't leave."

He smiled, "Only for a moment." He leaned down, pressing a cold kiss to her temple. "You need the sunshine," he murmured into her ear.

She turned her head at that, their faces now inches away.

His eye scanned across her face.

Such a pretty doe. 

A low, groggy voice interrupted, "A… Aemond…"

Y/n's head snapped to Aegon, whose good eye was open, trying to recognize everything around him.

Aemond stood straight and Y/n almost crawled up the bed getting to the king.

Her touches were gentle against his cheek, "My love."

Aegon studied her for a moment but it was short lived as he looked back to Aemond.

"Perhaps I should leave you two," Aemond finally said.

"Wait." She said as he began to walk away. "I…" She paused in thought. "I would still enjoy a walk. Another time."

Aemond couldn't stop the smirk that ran across his face, "Another time then, my queen."

Her attention moved back to Aegon, and Aemond left the room with heavy steps.

He wished more and more that he had just finished it all when he had the chance.

...............................................................

part 2

[icanseethefuture333]

(18+) Pick a tattoo 💉: Receive a message from your next intimate partner 🤤🥵😈

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Dead Wrong by FEMM

Bedroom by Mabel

Thank u, next by Ariana Grande

The Devil, King of Cups, Five of Pentacles, Justice, & Queen of Cups

For the next person you'll be sexually intimate with, it seems that this is going to be a person from your past. This could be an ex or fwb you've been on and off with. You're tired of them emotionally, but sexually, this person is familiar to you. You know you can be with someone else that makes you happier, but you don't wish to start over and explain the ways you want to be touched. I believe this person love bombs through sex 😅. They dote on you and kiss different parts of your body. They love to praise you - "You're doing so good for me right now, is this all for me?". They also enjoy aspects of BDSM (tying someone up, being degraded, etc). There is a inconsistency here when it comes to experiencing pleasure or orgasms. Do you disassociate, pile 1? What is going on? I feel like you have to just lay there and for your partner to use your body to get off. You deserve to feel pleasure, pile 1! Please don't feel afraid of speaking your mind or say what gives you pleasure or doesn't. If this person is not satisfying you in anyway you do not have to stay with them. I feel like you don't wish to give them anymore of your energy. It's as if you wish to say goodbye through sex. I don't see this connection lasting long with this person and the partnership will be short term. There seems to be a big issue with emotional intimacy. You and this person need to heal your trauma regarding romance. This relationship will be a karmic lesson for you both in order to grow.

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Wine Pon You by Doja Cat (ft. Konshens)

Shady Lady by B.A.P

Moonlight Chemistry by Jeff Bernat

The Hanged Man, Nine of Cups (reversed), The Emperor, The World, & Two of Pentacles

Are you a virgin, pile 2? Or perhaps inexperienced? I feel some of you have never been able to have a orgasm before or haven't had someone give one to you. There is like trouble with you getting there. Your next sexually intimate partner wishes to change this! They are so focused on making you feel sexy and feel good. Your partner wishes to have slow and sensual sex with you 😳. "We can take it slow if you need to, I can go all night if that means you need to cum 🖤" phew 😮‍💨! I feel like if this is a man, they have a big dick or they have big dick energy. If they are a woman, then their pussy feels heavenly. Regardless of their sex (or gender), they know how to please you in the bedroom. Their preferred position is missionary, they want to look into your eyes as they fuck you 🙈. Your partner wants to give you the world, pile 2 or make you feel like you're the only person in the world that is special to them. As much as they are a giver, they love to receive also, I'm getting strong switch vibes. They could like for you to ride them or give them head 🥴.

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Web by 070 Shake

Me & U by Cassie

Ur Best Friend by Kiana Ledé & Kehlani

Seven of Swords, Four of Cups, The Sun, Two of Cups, & Queen of Wands

MY QUEER PILEEEEE 👅🌈🖖🏽💦! I am heavily getting wlw vibes for this pile. Your next sexually intimate partner could be someone who is of the same sex~ 👀. If not, they are someone who is androgynous in appearance or is in touch with their feminine/masculine side. They want to eat you out/suck you off soooo bad 😩. I feel like when you meet this person you're gonna know that they're attracted to you. They have a strong sexual aura or they naturally ooze confidence. Your partner is gonna talk a lot of game. "You wanna come home with me? Nobody else here is gonna be as interesting as me." You could meet them at a club or at a bar. This person is talented with their fingers 🥴. You could have a fetish for their hands and they could have a fetish for your feet. They have long fingers or veiny hands. If you're into it - you desire for them to choke you and they want you to know they'll willingly do it 🤫. Pile 3, your partner fantasizes about fucking you with your legs up in the air or with your feet over their shoulders. They are very attentive to what your likes and dislikes are. They could get you flowers the first time you have sex? Or put flower petals on the bed. They are very cheeky but sweet 🥺🥰!

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

Fuqboi by Hey Violet

Caught in a Lie by Fatima

Novacane by Frank Ocean

The Hermit, Nine of Wands, Five of Swords, Six of Wands, & Three of Pentacles

I am channeling the lyrics "Do you love me baby? I know you love me baby, yeah I cheated on you but do you still trust me baby? Have two kids now you stuck with me baby"

This is toxic as hell 😭. I feel like your next person you have sex with is going to be someone that your partner knows. There is a lot of cheating involved here. You have given your partner many chances and will be fed up when they lie to you again. This person could be a a rival, nemesis, or enemy of your partner. Is it your ex?! A friend of theirs?! Whoever this third party is, You will decide to get your lick back from all the damage your partner has caused and decide to move onto the next best thing. You have been attracted to this person for a while, but avoiding them because of your loyalty. "When you are done with them, come see me, I'll take care of you." Your partner will feel so betrayed when they find out you and this person are having sex but you will feel the most free that you have ever had thanks to this third party. This person wants to pick you up when you fuck. They could be taller or stronger than you. There is a obvious size difference. Possible threesome as well? 🥵

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

I Wish You Loved Me by Tynisha Keli

Dope Lovers by DPR IAN

Beauty And A Beat by Justin Bieber (ft. Nicki Minaj)

Eight of Cups, Five of Cups, King of Pentacles, Ten of Pentacles, & The Moon

Oh wow your next sexual partner is down bad for you, pile 5 🥰! They are literally head over heels for you. They wish to tell you "I love you" but they are nervous about moving too fast in the relationship. Your partner overthinks too much. You and this person could just be fwb or in the talking stage, but they will want to take this relationship to the next level. They could stay up late at night thinking of you, they just get so soft at the thought of your name 🥺 d'awww so cute 🤧. When you both have sex, you and this person could cum a lot 😳? Squirting 💦? It's just very watery and emotional lol, maybe you or this person has water sign placements (Pisces ♓️, Scorpio ♏️, Cancer ♋️). They could be more submissive during sex, but overall they are a giver. They will do anything to fulfill your desire during sex. Omg I'm sorry but this person will cum a lot 😅. Please use protection if you don't want to get pregnant or have a child because you or this person are very fertile. They wish to have a family with you. This is honestly my baby maker pile 🤰🏽. They like your boobs/chest. They want to nuzzle their head into your chest as you fuck them or they fuck you. I am channeling the lyrics from the song "Forever My Lady" by Jodeci:

"We fell so far in love

Now our baby is born

Healthy and strong

Now our dreams are reality

Forever my lady

It's like a dream"

You and your partner could have dreams of each other. There is a telepathic connection here. Are you manifesting them? Or vice versa? This is so passionate lol. I have a strong feeling you will end up marrying your next intimate partner. Their energy is very shy but romantic 💕

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Sweaty by SAAY (ft. Crush)

Good Kisser by Usher

La Luz (Fin) by Kali Uchis

Three of Cups, Temperance, Death, The Lovers, & Four of Pentacles

There is such an emphasis on lips, pile 6! They are obsessed with your lips! Oral fixation 👄? Your next sexual intimate partner fantasizes about making out with you. Smooches with a nice amount of tongue, nothing too invasive or aggressive lol. They could like when you have makeup on and your lips look more plump 💄💋. They think you're a fantastic kisser and whenever your lips press against theirs, it's like they are under your spell. You have the Poison Ivy effect on them! You could meet them through friends or while you are out with your friends. It is going to be some sort of celebration or party going on. Wedding, graduation, reunion, cookout, etc. You could be very artistic or creative and your partner finds this attractive about you. They like to watch you do your makeup, get dressed, or paint/make art. Your partner wants to have back to back orgasms. Overstimulation? Channeled lyrics: "Bumps in the night got me, got me over here overstimulated" - Overstimulated by Jhené Aiko. They enjoy deep penetration 😳. Your sexual partner is very intense lol. They want your bodies to be touching each other and feel every inch of you. "Say my name for me baby, matter fact - scream it." They get so possessive over you. This pile is making me my cheeks burn 🥵! They want to pin your wrists down. Backshots? Omg- pile 6, your partner is going to have you moaning so loud that your neighbors will know their name 😅. The next day will be giving coat and sunglasses like the Wendy Williams meme. You might feel embarrassed about it but your partner will feel proud and cocky 😋. "You weren't complaining about it last night 😏"

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

Blue Light by Kelela

Fucked My Way Up To The Top by Lana Del Rey

Girl With The Tattoo by Miguel

Ace of Wands, The Fool, Judgment, The Tower, & King of Cups

Channeled song: Hrs & Hrs by Muni Long. The lyrics to the whole song is very significant, so please go check that out. The part that's standing out to me specifically is:

"When I met you

I knew this was it

I've never been in love like this

A love like ours

I pray for it on my knees

Every night for some hours"

Your next sexual partner has literally been asking the universe for you, pile 7 🥺. They adore you! I feel like in this world, you and your partner have felt lost when it comes to love. As if they have been searching for someone that will fulfill their romantic and sexual desires. They are a hopeless romantic, you are as well, but your faith regarding to find a partner who makes you happy has been fading away. You could believe you will stay single forever because it just seems there isn't anyone who is compatible with you. Pile 7, your partner is going to change this! They want to make you feel bubbly and get butterflies in your stomach again. They love to see you blush 🥹!!! Your smile lights up their day. You could have a pretty smile or they think it is so adorable. Dimples? You could have dimples or only one dimple that they find attractive. They like when you give a sheepish smile and your eyes look at them with love, it makes their day (brb gonna go cry 🏃🏽‍♀️). Channeled lyrics: Girl With The Tattoo by Miguel: "Those innocent eyes, that smile on your face makes it easy to trust you" As for the sex, they enjoy when you initiate it or take action. They are a soft dom. They like to take orders from you but be the one in charge sexually. Submissive romantically, dominant sexually (this would be my dream man fr 😍). This is random but they like your boobs and butt :D! Or seeing you naked in general. They could have a fetish for your body ngl 😅. PLS 💀 Your partner isn't gonna understand personal space fr. You could be getting dressed in the bathroom and there they are 🧍‍♂️ peeping by the door with this expression on their face like ":3! uwu!". Consent is important to them ofc, so you will have to set boundaries on what's OK or not. If you will allow them to they will just walk in at anytime or ask to have sex with you when you shower lol. You could call them a perv jokingly and they'll be like "heh ¬‿¬". I am reminded of the scene from How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days when he pretended to get hurt so he could rub his head on his girlfriend's breasts and they both started laughing. You guys would be that couple that is cute but quirky in some ways lol. They could be big into shower sex? Champagne? They like to do it in hotels. Are they famous? There is something about wanting to get away from the public. Your partner could wish to (respectfully) cum in you or all over your body 💀. They are super messy lol. Your partner wants to fuck you reverse cowgirl style with your hair pulled back. You and your person could fuck like you'll never see each other again. The both of you are very loud. Your partner could enjoy shibari as well. They are a geek for sure. They could like cosplaying and costumes. Hentai 💀? I feel like they watch videos of E-girls or something. I don't feel like they are the most experienced though. So their fantasies could be pretty random 🤔? Like "Hey I learned about this today, would you want to try it?" The sex will be adventurous for sure. You and this person have a very youthful energy. They wish to orgasm with you at the same time. I feel like this will create a soul tie somehow 😗 Sex Magick? They could be manifesting you through their orgasms or you have been doing this as well. The relationship with your partner will be very dreamy. There is a sense of longing or wanting to connect. I feel like you and your partner will be in a long distance relationship. I'm seeing late night video calls or falling asleep on facetime. Cyber sex 💻? Things with your partner will feel pretty new. So it could take some time for things to be more serious on a romantic level, but it will create a new learning experience for you. I'm getting that aftercare is also important for them. They wish to cuddle afterwards or watch a movie/TV show together. "Food at my place ❤? I'll cook for you." Channeled song: Foldin Clothes by J.cole:

"I wanna fold clothes for you

I wanna make you feel good"

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

Super Bounce by Duckwrth (ft. EARTHGANG)

How Do You Want It by 2Pac

Rose by Jereena Montemayor

Eight of Wands, Five of Wands, Strength, King of Swords, & The High Priestess

LMAOOOO this is my pile that likes to have angry sex. You could act bratty on purpose so your intimate partner could dominate you. They get so irritated with your ass 🤣! There is gonna be a lot of spankings. Channeled song: Put My Hands on You by Dean & Anderson.Paak: "Face in the pillow, ass where the wind blows" they wanna fuck you this way. You are so noisy, pile 8! Your partner could like to feel, grab, and cup different parts of your flesh when you have sex. They make you feel so good. They like your butt and your thighs. They love when you act bad even when they say they don't 🤭😈. Brat tamer for sure. "You see what you do to me? Is this what you want? You like that don't baby? You're doing so good for me why don't you scream a little more" omggg if this a man they could sound like ghostface 🫣. Their voice is deep and raspy, ugh 😫. You love when their voice gets husky during sex and when they praise but also degrade you 😝. You could like for them to claim you or mark their territory. Hickies? Hand prints (Jack harlow: "I send her back to her boyfriend with my hand print on her ass cheek 🤚🍑") If this isn't a man, then they just have a really attractive voice and are very dominant during sex. Are you a dancer? This person loves to see you dance. They could want you to do a heels choreography, lap dance, or striptease for them. This person is going to be your partner for sure but it's a mess lol 💀

Channeled song: We Cry Together by Kendrick Lamar & Taylour Paige:

"Fuck me, nigga (I'ma fuck you, bitch)

Nah, fuck me, nigga, fuck me (I'ma fuck you, bitch)"

😭 I can't!

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Kisses Down Low by Kelly Rowland

Water by Tyla

Impatient by Jeremih (ft. Ty Dolla $ign)

Ace of Cups, Nine of Cups, Six of Cups, Eight of Pentacles, & Ten of Cups

Channeled song: Shirt by SZA:

"In the dark right now

Feelin' lost, but I like it

Comfort in my sins and all about me

All I got right now

Feel the taste of resentment

Simmer in my skin, it's all about

Bloodstain on my shirt"

I am getting that you and your next sexual partner like to do it with the lights off, dim lighting, or sex in the dark. Very mysterious and seductive vibes here. It's like being pulled into a witch's lair. Your partner could believe you are a siren 🧜🏾‍♀️ or your aura embodies this energy. You are more dominant when it comes to sex. You like to take control. You enjoy fulfilling your senses. Candles? Something about scents or a musk here. Music could be played during sex as well. This person loves the way you take charge, pile 9. You know just what to do. You could like to throw it back or grind on them. Very slow and sensual. They are attracted to your waist, hips, and stomach. You could know how to whine your waistline or move your hips in a way that's enchanting. You could like to tease them lol. Orgasm denial? They hate when you tease. They get really impatient. They are so desperate for your touch 🥱! They want to beg for it, even if they deny it. "Please baby, I'll do anything just let me cum." This person is more vocal than you are. I'm hearing shudders and whimpers. They love when you give them head. It's like you're snatching their soul every time 👻! Your hands are really soft. Handjobs/fingering? 🤭 You are a very attentive lover. You will be more experienced than your partner, they could even be younger than you. They could want to call you mistress/mister or mommy/daddy. They view you as someone nurturing and protective. You heal a part of their inner child through sex. They enjoy when you caress their hair and give them back rubs. Baby oil? You could give great massages. You could make this person cry during sex because it is so emotionally fulfilling. You will find this adorable and want to make them orgasm again. Everything will be so wet and slippery 🌊! When you and this person have sex it's like the flood gates are opened lmao. I see this will most likely be a fling. This message is only for a few, but if you are a sex worker then this is a client.

[gladiatorcunt]

- CILANTRO & CORIANDER

cw: roommate (you might as well be)!gojo x male!reader: 18+ mdni, use of ‘baby boy’, he calls you pretty, size queen!reader, VERY creepy!gojo & yandere tendencies, swearing, sexual harassment, mention of guitarist!geto, crack treated semi-seriously, an old concept post i need out the drafts, throwaway hint of satosugu if you want, implied frat bro basketball player!gojo, tense changes & a brief pov switch at the end

It all started with a loud ‘PASS THE FUCKING BALL DUMBASS’ coming from the shared wall of your apartment.

You hadn’t even been moved into the place for a week but every day there was always some stuff happening that made you strongly consider filing several noise complaints. You had never really been in a living situation that involved being surrounded by strangers before so you were anxious about coming off as annoying. When you had first moved in and got your keys, all you could hear were the understandable sounds of heavy footsteps on all sides. But as the days went by, sitting on the empty floor was accompanied by the shrill strumming of an electric guitar. The shouting followed soon after from what sounded like a different room.

You were worried that your next door neighbor was possibly violent until you heard buzzer sounds from their tv. Shit, they’re one of those sports people. You pressed your cheek against the cold floor of your bedroom and brought the one good blanket you have tightly over your ears. Maybe they would quiet down when the game was over, not that you knew remotely anything about basketball. You’re not even sure games should be going on at 10:49 in the morning, but again, your odds of getting a PhD in basketball are abysmal.

Errands gave you an excuse to be out of the house for a few hours. You got back around 5 and wanted to just collapse. The deadbolt lock on your door gave you serious grief but you managed to wrangle your key out of the lock and nudge the door open with the tip of your foot. Pieces of the laundry bundled up in your arms kept slipping out onto the floor. You groaned and bent over to pick all of the stragglers up before tossing them in the plastic basket.

You let yourself zone out in front of the microwave that’s reheating your pepperoni pineapple pizza. A minute later you opened the microwave door and nearly had a heart attack when you almost dropped your food.

“THIS GAME SUCKS!”

It looked like it was wishful thinking to hope that the noise would improve while you were away. Who knows, it was probably dead quiet until the second your neighbor could sense that you were home. You knew nothing about them but you wouldn’t put it past them to be enough of an asshole to wait to be loud until they knew you could hear it. You didn’t know if they were watching the same game that they were watching this morning or if it was a new one.

You sighed and agonizingly slowly dragged your hands down your face. Any mounting anger was temporarily subdued by the fact that the noise is an unfortunate part of apartment life. You would just have to get used to this being a miserable part of your everyday life.

For weeks on end all you heard was the obnoxious sound of his loud tv, whatever shit he dropped right next to the wall, and his moans that bordered on screams.

You put up with it as best you could, but you purposefully rode your monster cock dildos on the other side of the apartment so he wouldn’t hear you. A part of you thinks it’s because you know he’d get off to it, and he doesn’t need any more jerk off material. His meat’s probably raw from how much he beats it by now.

Your pettiness at being deprived of an orgasm in peace go hand in hand with how on edge every loud sound coming from his place is making you. You’re overstimulated in a bad way and unfortunately it doesn’t seem like a very selective meteorite is going to crash through the bastard’s window anytime soon.

———————————————————————————

You don’t stop to think of the consequences or how appropriate what you’re doing really is. You barely lifted a hand to knock on his door before it was carelessly swung open. The door made an obnoxious bang, revealing the 6’3 jerk you were fed up with. He had clothes on this time (he usually doesn’t when you swing by), orange striped basketball shorts and a black compression shirt. He was sweaty and had probably been working out before you decided to make a scene. Your eyes strayed towards how plump the shirt made his chest look, but his slightly wide nipples were the ones staring at YOU.

“Uh, hey, dude. Sorry, I told Suguru not to practice so late at night.” Satoru grins, believing your beef is with his musician best friend who never seems to leave.

You blink, wishing you could spontaneously combust. “What? No, that’s not what this is about.”

You refused to think about how you caught glimpses of his loose hairy balls dangling with his movements as he leaned against the doorframe. Of course Gojo Satoru (as he yelled through your wall when he caught you moaning, you thought you were safe and he thought you could use someone to call out to) would be the kind of guy that doesn’t wear underwear when he works out. They looked so swollen and full to bursting, you swallowed reflexively.

You shook the thoughts off and lost yourself in a whirlwind of pent up rage. Your breaths were shaky but you pushed yourself to get it all out. Did you expect anything to really change after this? No. But it felt damn good to finally say how you felt about the entire childish ordeal.

“I honestly could not give less of a flying fuck how you feel about what i’m saying because i’m too tired of your stupid shit. You’ve got me so fucking heated i could just-”

Typical. You couldn’t even finish saying your peace before large veiny hands snatched your plush cheeks and soft thin lips smashed against yours. You’re so caught off guard that he pushed the boundary even further by prying open your mouth with his slick tongue on a hunt to find yours. He sensually rubbed the tip of his tongue alongside yours in a sickly sweet little kiss. His rough fingers slid deep into your hair and to the back of your head, gently massaging circles into your scalp.

You come to your senses as soon as more guitar riffs reach your ears. You helplessly wriggled around in his air tight hold until he found enough mercy in his (no doubt) wretched soul. He panted like a dog right in your face, messily giving you slick open mouth kisses to keep making spit drip from your tongues every time you part.

“What- what- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT YOU CREEP?” You shrieked. You sputter and your fists pummeled his broad shoulders with everything you had, which clearly wasn’t much because your wrists were soon bundled together in his loose grip like it was nothing. Your cheeks feel they could spontaneously burst into flames.

The twitch in his shorts goes unnoticed. So does the wet spot.

“Ha…” He panted, letting his tongue hang out for a second. His bangs swished to the side as he tilted his head and grinned. “Sorry, you’re just so pretty.”

His blue eyes shimmered like the sunlight on the sea off the amalfi coast as he said it. You both didn’t bother pretending that there was any sincerity in the one word apology.

As soon as you stormed off, he was out of his pants like a bat out of hell. You aren’t there to be the VIP guest at his one man show, but Satoru can perform just fine for an audience of one.

“Mmmmh. Ungh~ Fuck yes……” He whispers as he comes down from his high, grinding his favorite pocket asshole in circles on his sweaty dick.

It even has a rumpled picture of you taped on it, for better immersion.

He pants and pulls the toy away with a shluck! sound. His tongue unfurls from his mouth as if he were a snake ready to pounce on a nice fat mouse.

“Hah…….” Satoru giggles, “Love you, baby boy.”

[ohraicodoll]

DESPERATELY NEED FERAL READER WITH EP 8 WITH AN INJURED JOEL AND KIDNAPPED ELLIE…….. I KNOW OUR CRAZY QUEEN WOULD KILL EVERYONE ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Yall asked for it lol

Violent Delights Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 6.7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: They took her kid and she was getting her back. Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and torture

She woke up with a start, having drifted off unknowingly after trying to keep watch, a sense of disorientation as she tried to figure out where she was and what was happening. The basement. They were still in the basement, the cold leeching any warmth from the walls and floors, the haggard breathing of her companion her only company. It’d been over 48 hours since she last slept, since Joel was hurt and they’d had to drag him into the house and patch him up. He wasn’t in good shape. Joel was so close to death’s door, it terrified her. They were so close to losing him and she had never felt more helpless.

She could still hear his pained groans, the glazed and blank look in his eyes, as she put pressure on the bleeding hole in his stomach just a couple days before. “Don’t you dare die, Joel. You still have to make shit up to me and you can’t do that dead. You can’t leave us again.” He’d tried to tell them to leave him. To go back to Tommy’s and leave him behind, the stubborn asshole. But Ellie managed to find the first aid kit and they’d sewn up the hole, wrapping it best they could with the little supplies they had. She knew it wasn’t enough. There could be shards left from the baseball bat, they weren’t the cleanest, nothing was sterile. She didn’t even know if something internal had been damaged. But it was all they could do. They’d been so focused on getting to Colorado they’d been using their food storage rather than hunting over the past week. Now it was biting them in the ass, their supplies dwindled. She’d managed to briefly go out and hunt down a rabbit, but game seemed scarce and leaving meant leaving Ellie and Joel alone. Without Joel, it was hard to sleep, look after Ellie, look after him and keep him stable, look after the fucking horses, and hunt. She was overwhelmed. So sleep went out the window. She took watch when Ellie was asleep, went and tried to hunt and scavenge the nearby houses when she was awake, and kept an eye on Joel in between taking care of the two horses in the garage. But at some point she’d fallen asleep finally, fallen deep and hard enough that she hadn’t noticed Ellie slipping the rifle from her hands and leaving the two adults alone.  A small scribbled note was placed on her lap on a piece of what looked like newspaper, “Be back soon -E.” She scrambled to her feet, looking around and cursed herself. Joel was still breathing steadily but his brow was covered with sweat from the infection he was staving off. Both their packs were against the wall but Ellie’s was gone and the panic that took hold was like a lightning bolt. It stole the breath from her lungs. Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone- it was a racing thought that circulated over and over again. Her main purpose, main job, and she’d fucking fallen asleep.

Her heart jumped further at hearing footsteps above her head, the slight creak and shift in the old wood, a door slamming…then it all came out in deep relief as she recognized the light shuffling.

Ellie raced down the steps, cheeks pink from cold and wind, and breath huffing out in a rush as she entered the basement.

She grabbed the girl immediately, shaking her by the shoulders with the vestiges of panic still in her blood, “Where did you go, Ellie? You weren’t supposed to leave!”

The teenager paused, eyes frantic and a little wild, but a tough set to her lips as she shook her head, “I went hunting and you needed sleep! I had to, but look! I got Joel medicine!” Ellie took the bottles out of their wrap, quickly moving away from her and kneeling down to Joel, beginning to lift up his shirt before she could even get a good look at what she had. The wound was ugly and discolored and she could hear him groan at the small touches. Her mind was still caught up in the panic of discovering the girl was gone and she quickly snatched the bottles away before the syringe was inserted. “Where did you get this?” she asked, turning it over in her hands. Penicillin. Two whole bottles of penicillin, practically liquid gold in their world, and Ellie had managed to get it while she slept. The teen looked nervous and tried to snatch it back, but she was quick even if she was exhausted and pulled her hand away, “Please, can we give it to him first and then I’ll explain?” Her eyes were so big for her face, cheeks pink. Her desperation to help Joel was evident. Ellie knew how bad he was doing and believed she held the cure to it all in her hands. She could only sigh and hand it back over, instructing her to give just a fourth of the bottle and to tap the syringe. Joel would probably have a heart attack if he knew she was letting the kid give it to him, but she knew Ellie had to do this herself. It was her win and she had to feel like she was the one saving him so she let her. But then they both stared, her knowledge only getting them that far. “Where the fuck am I suppose to put this?” Ellie cursed, looking at the wound and Joel’s arm, eyes switching between hers and his closed ones, “Fuck, how are we supposed to do this?” She cursed herself. Her medical knowledge was mediocre. Stitching, cleaning wounds, pulling out bullets, the basics they needed. Infections and medicine she had no clue about, “Just give it to him in his stomach. As long as it enters his blood stream, it should be fine.” At least, that’s what she thought. Ellie winced and inserted the needle, Joel giving out pained groans as it sunk into the sensitive area. They both watched the plunger empty the contents and then she pulled it out, trying to clean the needle the best she could. They only had one syringe and would have to reuse it. “And now we wait,” the teen commented and looked at his face as if at any second he would be magically better. He would wake up and smile and tell her good job. But he didn’t, staying silent on the small makeshift bed. “No, now you tell me where you went and how you got that,” she bit out, sitting on the other side of Joel to face her. Ellie winced and looked down at the small glass bottles in her hand, “You needed to sleep and we needed food. I know you think you can take care of all of us, but you can’t and I wanted to help by trying to hunt.” “That’s not your responsibility-” “It doesn’t matter. I wanted to help,” Ellie cut her off but then sighed, “And I did manage to actually get a deer…but I ran into these guys...” Instantly, she was on high alert, eyes searching everything that was visible and checking her for any wounds, “You ran into people and you’re barely telling me!” “I know!” the young girl argued back, hand resting on top of Joel’s, “They found my deer before me and said they were from a group with starving women and children. They offered to trade for half the deer and said they had medicine. I did everything I was supposed to! Got them to drop their guns, unloaded their rifles, and had them back away. One went to get the medicine and I kept the gun on the other.”

“So you gave them half the deer and they gave you the medicine then just let you go?” she asked and clenched and unclenched her fists. Ellie wouldn’t look so nervous if  that was the whole story and she wasn’t nearly tired enough to have been dragging half a deer carcass back. Shrugging, Ellie grimaced and refused to meet her eyes, “That was the deal…but they knew who we were. The people that attacked us at the university belonged to their group and this guy started talking about how one of theirs had been killed by a crazy man with two girls. He knows that was Joel. I don’t know why he let me go, but I think they’re looking for us.” With a curse, she quickly stood, hands on her hips and pacing in a tight circle, “Fuck. Fuck. And they didn’t come after you?”

“No, I think they let me go because I was a kid.” She doubted that. People rarely were that charitable, even to children in this world. Especially a child with a gun and an attitude like Ellie’s. The unspoken words were there though. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t come for her and Joel though. Ellie may be deemed innocent but the two of them were problems and only one of them was in commission currently. But what could they do? They couldn’t move Joel in his state. They couldn’t leave him behind either. They were stuck. “Okay. Maybe if they let you go they don’t plan on coming. Maybe they think both of us are injured if you were out on your own and won’t come,” she lied comfortingly and tried to speak the words into existence, knowing the kid was probably feeling guilty and needed some hope. They needed rest, needed to breathe for a second, and panicking now wouldn’t help.  It took a while to relax enough to let the adrenaline fade away.

Ellie laid down, exhausted, tucking into Joel’s side as she had the past couple nights and resting her head on his shoulder. He subconsciously leaned into her, still alive for now. Her heart ached at the sight, the way they held each other in their own ways. She didn’t have the strength to get after the girl more or uproot them out of precaution. They were all exhausted and Ellie had somehow managed to bring hope even if there was a cost.

She sat down by the stairs, flipped her knife between her fingers to keep her awake and focused, and watched the two sleep with her heart in her throat.

The men would come. Now that they knew they were in the area, they would come and they were stuck in this spot until Joel was better. There was no way they could get him on a horse and move him now without undoing all the healing he’d done. A thousand scenarios went through her head, sleep now a distant memory in the face of the panic and anxiety plaguing her. How was she supposed to fight off a group and keep them both safe?

She couldn’t. That was the reality of the situation.

The thought hit her over and over again like a blow to the chest, the knife turning between her fingers. _________________________________________ Morning came and she could see Ellie’s disappointment that the medicine hadn’t instantly woken Joel up and made him all better. To ease her mind, they gave him another dose, trying to make the bottles last before shoving the remainder in their bags. They were out of food, the rabbit she had caught two days ago long gone without a way to store it. Joel still wasn’t eating or drinking and she worried that even if they got the infection under control, his body wouldn’t be strong enough to get better. Things were bad. The possibility of Joel dying was a constant chime in her head. It felt like a mockery that he had left and came back only to be almost taken from them permanently. She was angry. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that took the hit. It had been meant for her but he’d pushed her out the way as the bat swung, breaking on the tree, and then tackled the guy. If it had been her, Joel would know what to do. He could take care of them both or at least would have the strength to leave her behind if necessary. She wasn’t sure she could. She was failing him. Failing them both. The basement was suffocating, pressing in on her, and she took the opportunity to go tend to the horses, leaving the girl and her unconscious companion to the pressing weight of disappointment. Her body was beginning to ache from the lack of sleep and food, joints protesting her movement, but she reached down and scooped snow into the small metal bucket for them to get some water. Soon the horses would starve too or be too weak to carry them. Death was creeping up on them. Looking over the neighborhood they were held up in, she sighed at the obvious foot steps leading up through the streets before beginning to methodically cover what she could. Ellie knew better than to leave a trail but she guessed in her hurry to get the medicine back to Joel and get away from the men she had forgotten. And as birds took off in a rush further down the road towards the wooded outskirts, she froze and her heart thundered in her ears. 

She felt fear run through her as her thoughts from the night resurfaced and became reality, a living nightmare. They were coming. They had waited for daylight to search them out and were coming now. She knew it, could feel it, and they were out of time. Quickly covering what she could and making false tracks from the other houses, she ran back inside and flew down the stairs to the basement taking two at a time. No time, there was no time.  Ellie startled at her rushed appearance and the way she flew across the room to the rifle and her own pack, “What’s happening?”

“Those men you saw are coming,” she huffed out, grabbing the rifle and checking it was loaded before looking around the room as if she could find the answer there.

Turning to Joel, Ellie began to shake his shoulders as if he were merely sleeping and not borderline in a coma, “Fuck. Joel! You have to wake up, Joel. Joel, wake up! Wake the fuck up, Joel!” But he only gasped, pained whimpers leaving his lips, eyelids fluttering.

She bent down and grabbed Ellie by the shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes, “Ellie, I need you to listen to me. I need you to take the horse and run.”

“What? No, what about-”

“You run and I’ll follow behind and try to pick them off,” she interrupted, voice adamant, “They’re going to search every house and they will find us eventually. I can’t hold them off like this. I need to know you’re good first and if we’re away from here then it will take the focus off Joel.”

“You want me to go without you?” Ellie’s eyes were wide with fear and her heart ached at the sight, but there was no time.

“I’ll find you,” she promised and dug her fingers tightly into her shoulders as if she could sink the words into her skin, “I will. But you have to go now. We’ll block the entrance to down here, give Joel some time.”

Ellie pressed her lips together and nodded, running to grab her backpack and last minute grabbed one of the larger knives they had. Running back over to Joel, the teen knelt down and placed it on his chest, forcing his hand to grab it. She let her while grabbing the rest of her stuff and placed Joel’s pack into a small cubby under the steps to make it less noticeable.

“Okay, look at me,” Ellie whispered to him while he only groaned in reply, “There are men coming, okay? I’m gonna lead them away from you, Red is going to help get rid of them. But if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?”

“Ellie, hurry,” she bit out, peeking out the small window along the top of the wall. “Joel, do not fall asleep,” the teenager pleaded desperately, squeezing his hand around the knife. She could see his eyes partially open, see his lips trying to move and his fingers twitching trying to grasp the knife. But Ellie finally got up quickly and rushed up the stairs. She went to follow after her and paused, staring back at the unconscious man on the floor. A part of her whispered that this could be the last time she saw him alive. One or both of them could be dead if this didn’t go right. Heart in her throat, she ran back to him and kneeled, kissing his forehead and grasping his hand. “Stay alive for us, please, Joel,” she whispered, squeezing the hand around the knife, but getting back up and running up the stairs. She tried not to look back. Both of them moved the tall kitchen cabinet over the door entryway to the basement, trying to shuffle things around to not make the spot obvious before heading to the garage. They got both horses out, grabbing what she needed from hers and sending silent apologies to Tommy before forcing it to gallop away in the opposite direction with a sharp smack. The other she saved for Ellie to ride, closing the garage door behind them. They’d figure out transportation later when they were out of this mess, but they needed the guys off their trail and two different horse tracks would help. With quick hands, she helped Ellie climb up onto its back. 

Shakily, she bit out, “You ride hard and fast and loud. They’re going to come after you but if you go fast they won’t catch you and I’ll hit them from behind. They only know for sure about you right now. Do not look back, Ellie. I’ll find you once it’s safe, I promise.” Ellie was shaking but tried to put on a brave face, nodding and holding onto the reins. She wanted to hug the girl, tell her it was going to be okay, but she wouldn’t lie to her. Not now. The men were close, she knew that. She patted the rear of the horse and nodded a final goodbye, beckoning her to go forward. Her heart screamed to not let her go, that it was safer with her than alone, but they were backed into a corner and she had no choice. They wouldn’t win in a shootout and losing meant Ellie would die. So she watched as the girl rode away down the street away from her, turning until she was completely out of sight, and tried not to flinch at the gunshots that came soon after and the yells of men. She tried to shut off the part of her that wanted to panic, to react and worry. That wasn’t the part she needed to listen to at the moment. Running as far as she could, crossing over fences and staying against the walls of the house, she followed the sound of loud hoof beats and chased after them as they chased after Ellie. Her ears caught on one of them screaming that she was to be left alive, but that didn’t ease the worry in her. Being captured alive wasn’t always a good thing. One of the slower men chasing Ellie fell the furthest behind, wheezing in the cold and trying to clamber in the dense snow. Her own knife in hand, she ran and jumped onto his back, using both their weight to send them forward onto his front behind the cover of some of the shrubs. 

He hadn’t been expecting to be attacked from behind and it took him a moment to try and struggle, to lift his face out of the snow to breathe, and she took advantage of that by stabbing deep into the back of his neck. He groaned, the sound muffled, and she pulled the blade out and sunk it in again and again with a growl. The snow was staining red around them. He stopped moving. One down. She stood and took off, the cold biting into her lungs and stealing her breath. The terrain was hard and the one kill had put her farther behind the group, forcing her to cut across more backyards to catch up, but she could only hope Ellie had done what she asked and was out of range. She could catch the rest of them once they scattered. But then a gunshot rang out close by. The sound of a horse’s cry ripped through her, tore her soul to shreds, and she knew if she lived beyond the day she would hear that sound forever in her nightmares.

She ran. She left all care of stealth behind and ran fast and hard, dodging trees and fallen branches and then ran faster when another gun shot rang out. The chest felt like it was being cleaved open by the panic, fear gripping her tightly. They wouldn’t have shot her. They wouldn’t have killed her. She was a kid, they wouldn’t-

And then she watched from the trees as the group surrounded Ellie who was on the ground, her horse unmoving not far away, and a tall skinny man picked her up and began to walk away with her. She raised the rifle, looking down the scope, and cursed as the men separated and began to head back into the neighborhood. No doubt to continue their search for Joel and her.

She could see Ellie’s face through the scope, the loll of her head, but she was gripped too closely to the man’s body. He was walking further and further away. Two sides of her screamed. Leaving to go after them meant abandoning Joel, but staying behind meant leaving Ellie. She wanted to press the trigger, shoot, but knew it was too risky with Ellie in the man’s arms. She could so easily accidentally kill the girl if she was one inch off and her hands were too shaky from exhaustion to be precise. Only some of the group was going back, the others looking like they were continuing to scout the area.

She knew what she had to do, what Joel would tell her to do, but the reality of it felt impossible. If they found Joel, he’d die for sure. But she wasn’t sure she could live with leaving Ellie.

The men with the girl were getting farther away and a choice had to be made.

So she swallowed the sob in her throat and let the rage she felt consume her completely, push her forward, and followed behind the group to where they would take her kid.  __________________________ It was getting harder and harder to follow along as the wind began to kick up a notch. She needed to see where they were taking Ellie, but she was tired and the cold was sinking in, her body struggling to keep going. And as they entered the town, it was getting difficult to avoid being seen. Too many buildings, too many open areas, and she didn’t know who could be watching. She knew they had entered one of the nearby buildings, but wasn’t sure which. The clock was ticking in her mind, Ellie’s life on one hand and Joel’s on the other. What good was she if she couldn’t save her people? Blood crusted on her fingers as she entered the first of the buildings quietly, finding a back entrance. It was dark but she could hear voices nearby as she found herself in some kind of storage room, the cold still reaching her through the walls. She wasn’t used to carrying the rifle. It had always been Joel’s weapon thanks to its weight, her preferring knives or a small pistol or even a bow when she could find one. So when she crouched down to ease her way over to the swinging door leading further inside, she winced when it thudded and scraped against the floor, the sound so loud in her ears. The voices paused and she froze, eyes wide and watching the door. There was shuffling and she quickly backed away into a darkened corner, pulling her knife out. Steps came closer and she held her breath, trying to calm her racing heart. The door swung open and she could see a man enter, beard a little rough and looking a little ragged, cheeks red from the cold. He frowned, looking around, gaze shifting over what he could. He turned to look at the back door, back facing her, and only then did she realize she had tracked snow inside and it hadn’t quite melted. Lunging, she stuck the blade deep into his lower back with all her might and threw her arm around his neck, choking him hard. A cry of pain tried to leave his lips, breath cut off, and he struggled wildly. She twisted the knife, feeling blood coat her hand. “Where is the girl?” she hissed, jerking the blade deeper. He sobbed and made pathetic mewling sounds of pain, voice wispy from lack of air, “Please, I don’t know-” She twisted, hearing the squelch of flesh tearing, “The teenage girl your buddy grabbed, where is she?” The distinct smell of piss lingered in the air and he sobbed out, “I don’t know! Oh god.” Steps were coming close again and she growled, keeping her grip on the knife buried in his body and shifting her arm away from his neck to hold the back of his collar. He wheezed in air, blood starting to bubble from his lips. The door burst open and the distinct sound of a gun rising echoed in the tiny room, only to pause as she held the man in front of her like a shield, mostly hidden by his body. “Howard-” A woman’s voice. All the people who had attacked them had been men. 

She wouldn’t have the information she needed. With a growl of frustration, she shoved the body at her, letting his dead weight hit her and trap the woman against the wall. She let out a startled cry and the delay gave her just enough time to unholster her pistol and shoot her in the head. The numbness that was a twin to her rage had sunk into her skin, blanketing her all over. She’d search the buildings, one by one, and kill whoever she had to to find her kid. She didn’t care. Stepping over the bodies, she moved into the area they had been in before she drew their attention and paused, icy horror filling her. A leg was in the process of being cut apart, small chunks set aside and being wrapped up as if to store for later. It was a kitchen, most likely used to prepare food for stage, large makeshift smokers and pits along the back unused. The ticking clock in her mind sped up as the reality of what she’d uncovered hit her. Cannibals. These people that had taken Ellie were cannibals. A strong hit to her back sent her stumbling forward and clattering to her knees. She grunted and scrambled forward as a stomp missed her, hitting the ground instead. There’d been someone still in the room and she’d been too distracted to notice. 

Rolling onto her back, gun still in her hand, she aimed and managed to shoot the knee out of her assailant as he raised a butcher knife. He crumpled to the ground with a cry and she got to her feet slowly, gun raised and trained on him. 

The guy was younger, but thin and haggard looking. His bravado hadn’t fully left him though as he stared her down, anger in his eyes, “You fucking bitch. You blew out my fucking knee.” He tried to get up but she aimed at his head, making him freeze. “I’ll shoot the other one too if you don’t shut up and tell me where the girl you kidnapped is,��� she snarled, adrenaline helping to keep the firearm steady on him. His nose wrinkled and he spit at her, brow furrowed.

Stubborn. Younger guys were so stubborn.

She pulled the trigger and watched his other knee explode as the bullet met his target. The man screamed and she quickly knelt down, shoving her hand over his mouth and placing the still warm barrel against his forehead. Tears leaked out his eyes, making little dirt tracks through the grime on his skin.

“Where the fuck is she?” she screamed into his face and the sound was almost inhuman, gravel and fury warping it almost into a howl.

But he only shook his head, eyes defiant. Frustrated, she stood, looking at the meat cleaver in his hand and the human leg on the table. She didn’t have time for this. Ellie was out there and the situation was worse than she thought. Not even meeting his eyes, she raised the gun and shot him in the head. He wasn’t going to give her any information.

She raced back outside through the back door she had entered, heart in her throat and a panicked scream wanting to leave her lips.

The storm was picking up as an idea hit her. If she searched each building, there was no guarantee she’d find someone with information in time. She had to draw their attention. Maybe lure them out. They had wanted Ellie alive for the moment. If she could distract them, it may buy her time.

Chewing her lip, she kneeled behind the building and swung her pack around to dig through it. Her hand wrapped around a small glass bottle that had been carefully secured in the middle of her clothes and yanked it out along with one of her old shirts. They’d been saving it for emergencies, using it to sterilize what they could, but she needed it for something else now. Her face stung from the cold wind and her hands shook, but she managed to tear cloth and shove it into the liquor bottle, saturating the fabric, before she put her pack back on and stood.

Time to make a big fucking distraction.

Blocking the wind with her hands, she lit a match and watched as the tip of the cloth burned bright with flames.

With a snarl, she tossed the molotov through the window of the next building, ducking down and watching as the flames exploded inside. Screams and shouts followed, telling her there had been people inside, and she waited for more voices to join them. Someone would investigate or come outside.

Like clockwork, a man rushed out into the cold and she gripped her bloody knife at the familiar face. One of the men that had come back with Ellie. He cursed and ran through the snow, yelling that he was going to grab the fire extinguisher next door while the others scrambled to put the flames out. She followed, quiet, lava flowing through her and teeth bared. She couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. 

The wind blocked any sound she made as she rushed after him into the alley and lunged, shoving him into the cold brick wall with a loud crack. She growled and grabbed his hair, gripping it tightly and smashing it into the bricks once then twice. He tried to push away and turn, but she kneed him hard in the spine, driving him to his knees. “Where is the girl?” she snarled into his ear, knife to his throat. Blood poured down an open wound on his forehead, one eye blinded by red, as he finally took in who had grabbed him, “fuck you,” “Wrong answer,” she yanked his hair and slammed it into the wall again. When he went to raise his hand to fight her, she stabbed the blade through his hand and into the ground. His screams were carried away by the wind and snow, the shouts of his group telling her they were still distracted by the fire. “The girl your group grabbed,” the words were all razors and broken glass, almost the sound of an animal snarl, “Where did you take her?” He sneered at her, trying to put on a strong front through the pain, “That bitch is probably soup by now.” She stepped on the knife, the blade so far in his hand the hilt was pressing against the back, “I can make this last a fucking lifetime. Your choice. Where-” “Please, don’t-” Frustrated, she ripped the knife out and placed the tip just inside his mouth, “Last chance. Where is she?” The tip clinked against his teeth and he hung his mouth open to avoid being cut, his beard a mess of blood and spit and green eyes wide with fear finally. She tried not to feel satisfaction as seeing that, understanding setting in for him. He lifted his bloody hand and tried to point across the street, stuttering out, “Steakhouse. The fucking steakhouse. David has her in there.” She looked at him, eye swollen, and blood coating the front of his face, clearly terrified.

Slowly, she took the blade away, watching his lips wobble with sobs and slight relief. Then she slit his throat, continuing to move behind the buildings even as his blood sprayed out and soaked her clothes and his pleas gurgled and quieted.

The steakhouse was a few more buildings down across the street, “Todd’s Steakhouse” still written on the sign out front. The storm was a blizzard now, sharp stinging snow hitting her skin and turning the blood on her into patches of ice. There were yells, panicked screams, and she wondered if they had found the bodies. If they had found the blood and chaos she had left in her wake.

But with a destination in sight, she had let her guard down and she cursed herself later on for it. Arms wrapped around her torso, crushing the rifle into her back, and she kicked at the air as she was dragged back against a brick wall.

“You fucking bitch!” Screamed into her ear and she was tossed to the ground, teeth clattering from the impact.

A kick landed in her stomach and she grunted, the air leaving her lungs, but she had enough sense to grab onto the leg and cling to it. The move caught the man off balance and he tripped, falling to the ground next to her. Her blade was somewhere in the snow and she struggled to dig around for it, sharp steel nicking her fingers as she found it only to be thrown onto her back.

The man climbed on top of her, straddling her waist, his weight so heavy and her pack on her back making the move crushing. She grit her teeth and bucked, thrashing to try and get him off of her. But he only grinned, pulling back and decking her in the face. Stars lit up behind her eyes, a high pitch ringing all she could hear as pain exploded through her head.

He pulled back to punch again and her fingers found the cold metal in the snow. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the sharp steel cut into her palm as she grabbed it by the blade instead of the hilt, and stabbed it into his lower throat. She didn’t stop, only switching to pull it out by its handle this time, and stabbed again and again, blood reigning down onto her.

With a howl, she shoved him off of her and sent a final stab into his face, snow soaking into her and pain a radiating heat. Everything hurt and it was an effort to get up and roll onto her side, staring at the decimated body next to her. 

She spit blood on him and stood. There was smoke coming from all around her, the fire having caught from the molotov and moving on building to building. Across the way, smoke could be seen from the steakhouse and she swallowed her pain, letting adrenaline carry her to the front doors. Her hands shook as she tried the handles, pulling again and again but they stayed locked and shut. Growling, she threw her shoulder into it. She was so close. She had found the place and was so close and a locked fucking door was all that was keeping her away. Her breathing was quick and frantic as she looked over the front and tried to reason that there had to be a back door or an employee entrance. Her hands skimmed the wall to try and keep upright, knowing soon the exhaustion and pain would take over, but she tried to push it back. Ellie had to be close. She needed to keep going a little bit further and then she’d get her kid and they’d go get Joel. 

Her steps stumbled and she pushed off the wall, screaming at herself to stay steady. There, she could see the back door. Plain and wooden, easy enough to shoot the lock off and get inside. With shaky fingers, she unhooked the rifle from her shoulder, the weight of it almost unbearable, and took two shots to get the lock blown off. Her legs were shaky as she climbed the few steps and opened the door, smoke pouring out. She coughed and tried to wave it away, stepping inside and feeling the heat. She had taken only a few steps into the building and stopped, hearing a familiar voice. “Red?” Relief flooded her, eyes instantly filling with tears, as Ellie emerged from the smoke not too far in front of her. Ellie was there, hair a mess and half tumbling out of her ponytail, blood splattered and smeared all over her face and clothes. It took her a while to realize she was standing there, actually standing there, watching as the girl stumbled forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. 

Smoke and fire was all around them, but she couldn’t care because she had Ellie and they were both alive and safe now. With shaky hands, she managed to direct them back out of the building and into the cold, fresh air. Her promise rang in her ears and she whispered them out loud as she clung to the girl, “I found you. I found you. I’ll always find you.” And she had, but not quick enough. She knew that something awful had happened, that Ellie was now one step closer to being what her and Joel were. The tough exterior had crumbled away and all that was left was a shocked girl who’d had a piece of her soul cleaved away. Her nose was busted and she knew that look in her eyes, the horror and pain at doing something ugly but necessary. Ellie’s lips were shaking as she looked her over and she was so focused on the girl she almost didn’t see Joel coming around the corner. Joel, standing and whole and alive, coming towards them like Ellie was a gravity well pulling both of them towards her. His eyes met hers and the relief was bright, even if she was dripping in blood. But Ellie hadn’t noticed the shift in attention, hadn’t heard his steps, and when he went to grab her she bucked and thrashed in his arms in sheer desperation. So much like her, a wild animal fighting not to be caged. Her heart tore apart, shredded to pieces, at the painful screams then broken sobs as she realized who was holding on to her. 

Joel only kept whispering, “It’s me, it’s me, I’m here.” “He- I-” she stuttered, eyes glazed and searching both of theirs. Joel held on with all his might, trying to ease her, gentle words soothing. And the girl crumbled, falling into his arms and clinging to him tightly as much as he was clinging to her. His eyes met hers and she let the exhaustion hit her and carry her towards them, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around them both. All three of them, blood soaked, finally home with each other.

______________ Feral Reader Taglist: @alouise20 @faceache111

[lordperceval-16]

I Think There's Been a Glitch

Y/N and Lando, Mclaren teammates, and now roomates as well while your apartment goes through renovation during winter break.

Part 1 of an idea I had while dancing around my room to Taylor

(Part 2)

Lando x Fem!Reader

Yourusername

Liked by landonorris, danielriccardo, carmenmundt and others

Yourusername rating my Airbnb a 7/10 because the host could be better 🤷🏼‍♀️

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Landonorris rude?? I cooked you dinner? Also, is there a reason for your feet being on the COUNTER?

Yourusername I've seen bowls left in here for over 3 days my feet are probably the cleanest thing in this apartment

Landofan omg the shade 💀

Danielriccardo I'd have provided much better hospitality just saying

Yourusername third wheeling with you and Heidi would make it a 6/10 no offence guys

Y/N_stan I love her humour so much we stan a savage queen 💁‍♀️

Yourusername

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen1 and others

Yourusername: would like to report a missing person, last seen 36hrs ago when he went into his gaming room. Unsure if he's alive or dead by now but if found please return to Mclaren HQ

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Lando_fan dying at the fact that we've probably seen more of him in the last 36hrs by watching Twitch than she has and she LIVES WITH HIM😂

Y/Nsuperstan omg girl just admit you're in love with him already

Landonorris yeah Y/N just admit I'm the man of your dreams

Yourusername oh my god do you even hear yourself? The delulu is real

Y/Nsuperstan omfg this is happening UNDER MY COMMENT AHABZBSHAJWIISBS I AM UNWELL

Landonorris oh my god you're so dramatic you literally came in to take this picture

Yourusername the world deserved to know what a shitty host you are I don't make the rules 🤷🏼‍♀️

Mclaren_0409 that AirBnB rating about to drop to 6/10 if he's not careful

Liked by yourusername

Mclaren sending out the search party as we speak

[vigil-antes]

*During a particularly slow patrol or stakeout*

Steph: Soo, if you were to have a song as your theme, what song would you choose? Personally i think id be 'Applause' by Lady Gaga.

Damian: This is ridiculous, brown, i will not be part to such a foolish activity.

Steph: Dont be such a debby downer, brat. Have some fun once in your life.

Damian: *Scoffs*

Dick: I like this game! i-

Bruce: We're on an important mission, everyone. Keep the talk work related.

Steph: C'mon big guy, nothing's happening, and we're all close to falling asleep. If anything, this ensures we're attentive if anything happens.

Bruce: ...Very well. But keep your eyes on the target.

Dick: Will do! Anyways, as i was saying, i think id be 'Royals' by 'Lorde'!

Steph: Dick, i mean this in the nicest way possible but you are quite literally the closest thing there can be to modern-society royalty.

Dick: Yeah, thats why i like the song!

Tim: So you just never listen to the words?

Dick: I mean i never really close attention but is it really that much of a problem??

Duke: I mean, you are like, all of the things she mention she's never going to be.

Dick: Oh :(

Steph: *Snorts* Yeah, if anything youd be 'Candy' by Robbie Williams.

Tim: Hah, yeah.

Dick: Ok, i like the song but now im getting the feeling that its not a compliment.

Cass: Dumb but nice big brother :)

Damian: You do act quite like an empty headed buffoon at times, Richard.

Dick: What! No! Ok wait let me choose another song... ok, ill be 'Killer Queen' by Queen, ok?

Steph: Yeah i guess i can accept that. What about you, tim?

Tim, in a completely dead voice: 'What is love' by TWICE.

Duke: Uh...

Tim: I said what i said.

Duke: Ok... well, i like 'sunflower' by Post Malone.

Dick: Aaw, you are like a sunflower, thats so nice

Cass: You are very bright and warm, yes. Like sunshine

Duke: Thats the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

Cass: I like 'The dog days are over' by Florence and The Machine

Tim: Thats... pretty much perfect for you.

Dick: Yeah, agreed.

Tim: So, baby brat, what about you?

Damian: I told you, i wont lower myself to such childish games!

Dick: Come on, little bat, for me?

Damian: I am not one to be swayed so easily, you fool!

Cass: Dont be mean, baby brother, and have fun. Please?

Damian:

Damian: Fine. I choose 'You should see me in a crown' by Billie Eilish. I would look very good in a crown.

Steph: Yeah, i dont know what i expected

Dick: What about you, Bruce?

Bruce: I dont listen to music.

Tim: Damn man, that sounds depressing, you must know a song or two

Bruce: I really dont know that many songs, Tim. Maybe you can choose for me

Dick: No! That defeats the purpose of the game, B, come on, just think about it for a second

Bruce: Mmm... I guess if i were to choose, 'Viva la vida' by Coldplay woul-

Jason, who has the comms frequency but never uses and isnt even on the same mission: Personally I'd be 'Fireworks' by Katy Perry

Dick: Jay! its so nice to hear you parteci-

Jason: Specifically the part that goes 'do you ever feel already buried deep, six feet underground but no one seems to hear a thing'

Dick: *softly* Jay, no.

[rotthepoet]

Theo likes to appear to be so nonchalant, so cool, so unbothered, as if he got everything under control. Like nothing can get under his skin but that's EXACTLY why it's so fun to tease him n test how much it'll take to watch his restraint snaps (which isn't much tbh) 😼🤞

Going in for a hug? We're just hugging him extra tightly, pressing our lower half against his lower region extra harder, n inhaling his scent and he KNOWS

Sitting on his lap? Well of course it just so happens that we're wearing one of his big sweater w nothing underneath and batting our lashes up at him 🌚 totally accidental and a silly innocent mistake on our part

Hours, days, weeks, I DONT CARE IM GOING TO TEASE THAT MAN AND WATCH HIS RESTRAINTS CRACK

Anyways, have a beautiful day pookie 💋

- 🎹

Queen. I wrote like half of this and then i accidentally deleted it all. Lets have a moment of silence 😔 … now that its passed THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME I LOVE YOU AND I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG AGAIN

The Quidditch team had a very, no, outrageously stupid idea. Each and every one of them would practice celibacy for the week of the upcoming championship game. Seven whole days without sex. This included your amazing, wonderful, slightly pretentious boyfriend Theodore.

This did not sit right with you.

In fact, it sat so not right with you that you couldn’t help but… sabotage this game.

At first it was small things, your touch lingering too long on his bicep or thigh. Shifting your hips a little too much when he spooned you. Licking stray cream from your fingers at dinner.

But that didnt seem to work, no, it seemed like Theodore Nott hadnt been affected at all!(and you don’t know this, but he is DYING inside trying to not fuck you then and there)

So on day three you amp it up a little. You caught him right after quidditch practice, sweat dripping down his nose, and eyes wide as you practically throw yourself at him. Normally you wouldn’t touch him before a shower, but fuck has 3 days without sex made you a mess. Plus. You had to win this game.

You throw your arms around his neck, and his eyes glance down just enough to see the lowcut top youre wearing as your tits press against his chest. He suppresses a groan as you jump into his arm, forcing him to grab the plush skin of your thighs to support you. You, being extra bold today, kissed the side of his neck, tasting his salty skin beneath your lips as you take a deep breath and shiver. Maybe you were horny, but he didnt smell nearly as bad as he usually did after practice. Thats the point he put you down, kissing your forehead. “Four more days, bella…” he mumbled against your skin, before he grabbed your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look up at his dead eyes. “Knock it off or it’s going to be longer.”

“You wouldn’t last.”

“Oh, no. I’ll still be cumming. You just won’t be.”

His smirk as he walked off sent shivers down your spine and to the heat pooling in your panties.

On day five, you’ve had enough. You walked around your room, wearing nothing but a black, lacy thong and Theodores quidditch jersey. His name was proudly printed on the back, and you wore it like a badge of honor. And really, it was just too cute to not show off.

One text to Theo, asking for help on your DADA homework, and he was at your door in moments.

His face went a stark white the moment he saw you, his body shaking slightly from the overwhelming urge to take you right there.

You kissed his cheek in greeting, pulling him to a chair at your desk and sitting right down in his lap as usual.

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice raw and cracking slightly as he forced his gaze away.

You only shift slightly, your ass pressed against his groin while he stifles a groan. “This is where I always sit. Everything okay, teddy?” You ask.

“Fuck this.”

And within a second, your cheek is being pressed against the wood of your desk as Theodore leans over you, rutting his clothed hips against your plush ass. You win the game, by the way, you win it for SEVERAL hours.

Theodore loses his shit when he learns that no one else participated in the game, and he could have been balls deep in his girl on day one.

[azrielwingspan]

RED SERPENT (Mob! Bucky x f!reader)

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

You had always associated the colour blue with peace. Clear skies and vast oceans , their expanse making one seem insignificant. It grounded you and reminded you that there are greater forces at play.

That was a year ago.

Now, you associate the colour blue with James Bucky Buchanan Barnes.

King of New York.

The White Wolf.

Your husband.

Smoldering blue flames blazed in his eyes, all consuming and enrapturing. You were yet to figure out how they made you feel. For now, you watched as the steel blue gaze was directed at the man in front of him.

"This is the second time this month , Wilson. I'm going to give you a minute to explain." His tone indicated that he was anything but patient, brewing with explosive anger.

Sam Wilson was Bucky's head of security. His loyalty and discipline throughout the years was the only reason he was given time to explain himself. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead.

Reading the underlying threat in Bucky's words, Sam explained tensely, "There was a fire. Half the men were pulled to control it and the rest were reassigned. Whoever it was, struck then. The fire was the distraction."

A muscle ticked in Bucky's jaw as he restrained himself from lashing out. You sat by his side, ever the pretty wife, not moving an inch. Face devoid of any emotion, you leaned forward with feline like grace.

"Sam, how are you planning on luring the culprit?"

His eyes flicked to you, the slight relief passing through them not escaping your notice. You were far less intimidating than your darling husband. Albeit, far more venomous than anyone realized. One couldn't be married to a madman without having a certain...mental disposition.. as you liked to put it.

"We narrowed it down to Alexander Pierce. Haven't gotten the proof yet but his men's movements over the past few days suggest so."

"Interesting." you lean back in your seat, watching your husband from the corner of your eye. He seemed to calm down and collect his thoughts. Good.

That's how it had been over the past year. Bucky would lose his cool at the snap of a finger and you would garner attention in your direction to give him time to collect himself. A game. Every single moment of the day.

Power came to those who knew how to play the game.

"Did you deal with the police?" Bucky asked finally, his voice steady.

"Yeah, covered it up as a generator blast. Told our man in the department that we would deal with these fuckers on our own." Sam spat out, anger clouding his eyes.

Ugh, men. This was exactly what the other side wanted. Anger to cloud their vision.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to intervene yet again. "Set up a bait."

Bucky's head finally snapped in your direction as you held back a smirk. You'd merely thrown a hint. They could build on it, couldn't they?

"That could work." Bucky said, his eyes roaming over your face. Turning back towards Sam, he continued "Another shipment scheduled a week from now. No product at all, just empty cargo. Increase security around the yard. Meanwhile, I'll redirect shipments and deal with the clients."

Sam nodded his head in agreement and stayed for a bit longer as the two smoothed out the plan. Not finding any reason to pipe in, you spent your time listening to them sipping on a glass of old fashioned.

After what seemed like hours, Sam finally left giving you a small nod in acknowledgement.

Silence ensued as Bucky got up with a groan and poured himself a glass of whisky.

Taking a sip, he smacked his lips before saying "You know the difference between you and me, Y/N?"

He took another sip of his whisky and flicked the glass with his other hand. “We’re drinking the same damn thing. The only difference is I like my whisky neat and you decorate it with fancy shit to make it seem more sophisticated.”

I scoff at his words, shaking my head in amusement. He continued on. “We’re the same, you and I. You hide behind a mask of false politeness and practised smiles. I don’t.”

“What is the point you’re trying to make, James?” you leaned your head back against the couch as the buzz from the alcohol settled into you.

“I must either be foolish or recklessly brave to have married a fucking serpent. You amaze me, Y/N.”

Letting out a genuine laugh at his choice of words , you tip back the rest of the drink, licking your lips as the bitterness leaves its mark behind. A warm hand encircles your hand partially as Bucky takes the glass from you and places it on the table.

Closing your eyes to lean your head back against the couch once more, you let your husbands cologne encompass you.

Let's get one thing clear.

You and Bucky weren't in love. No, this was purely transactional. You got along well , you were able to satisfy each others needs but love was an emotion that didn't come easy to either of you.

So, when his lips trailed soft kisses along your neck, the only emotion involved was lust. Letting out a soft sigh, your eyes still closed, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his hands running across your body and his lips brushing underneath your jaw.

"You look devastating today." he whispered in your ear, nipping it lightly. Back slightly arching off the couch in pleasure, you turned your body towards his, looping your hands around his neck. "I hadn't noticed." you say breathlessly as his metal arm slips down the strap of your dress and your senses are at his mercy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stepping out of the steam bath, you put on a bath robe and start doing your skin care. Sleep was ready to take you under. Having sex with Bucky always tended to get you tired...not that you were complaining really.

Like he was summoned by your thoughts, Bucky walked into the bathroom with a somber face.

"What is it?" your hand was halfway to your face, focus honed in on your husband.

Not bothering to respond, he reached around you to grab the spare gun from the overhead cupboard.

"James."

No response yet again.

"JA--"

"Go to sleep." were the three words you got before he slammed the door to the bathroom and left you fuming in the silence of the house.

This. This was why you could never fall in love with him. No matter how good Bucky Barnes could fuck you, make you laugh and protect you, he would never respect you fully.

Soon.

Soon...this world would bow down to you.

Soon.

CHAPTER 2

[k4marina]

– iv. The Queen's Justice || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: after successfully fending off euron greyjoy and his ironborn fleet, daenerys, and her people, prepare for jon snows arrival.

warnings: little bit of angst (the girls are fightinggg 😬), game of thrones cannon violence and dialogue. based around the episode, the queen's justice [s7 ep3].

all dialogue in Valyrian is italicized

series masterlist

6.5k wrd count

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

“To Lady Vellarys, for your bravery and victory in battle.” Tyrion raises his wine filled glass in a toast. I appreciatively smiled and raised my own. He sat on the other sofa across from me. A pitcher of wine and snacks were laid out on the table between us and the candles were dimly lighting the room.

“Thank you, Lord Tyrion, but there’s no need for that. I was just doing what I had to.” 

“Oh, nonsense.” He reached over to pluck a grape off of the vine and plops it into his mouth. My eyes briefly glanced towards the scar that ran diagonally across his face. “A battle is a battle. You should be proud of yourself, not many would be able to do what you have done.” 

“Then to you, as well,” I raised my glass. “For defending King’s Landing from Stannis Baratheon's army at Blackwater Bay.” 

He raises his glass again and we both take a sip from our cups. 

“Now that we have Euron Greyjoy in our custody, Cersei no longer has anyone to command her fleet.” Tyrion hums. 

I nod. “One by one, the people around her will either fall or turn themselves towards Daenerys.” 

“Well not all of them,” he looks off, thinking of his brother. 

“Especially Jamie.” I caught him off guard. 

“You don’t know my brother as well as I do. He’s madly in love with her.” 

“That’s what he thinks, but times have changed.” I slowly swirled my glass. “All of his children are dead, and at the root cause is Cersei. It won’t be long until he realizes that and turns his back.”

“And you’re sure of this?” He sounds skeptical. 

“I am.” He doesn’t say much about it after that, letting the words settle in. I could see his mind moving a mile a minute; How will Jamie leave her? Why does he leave? When will he leave? Will he come join his brother's side? 

The air around us settles and he changes the subject.

“I’m sure you understand why I trust Varys so much.” He says, staring into his wine, his fingers dancing around the rip of his glass.

“Of course. He saved you from your execution and helped you into Daenerys’ good graces. But I’m sure you also understand why I don’t trust him.”

He purses his lips and lightly shakes his head. “I’m afraid I do not.”

I sighed. “Try. Look at what I’m seeing as an outsider, not as his friend.”

Tyrion swallows. “He’s an honorable man who serves the realm. Even before our friendship I’d always had respect for him.” 

I shake my head. “He’s a spider. He’ll pull you into his web with sweet words and wrap you up in his silk and before you know it he’s sunk his fangs into your neck and you're dead.” 

“Tell me, was Joffrey a good King?” I ask. 

Tyrion shakes his head. 

“Was he a good man?”

He shakes his head again.

“Then why did he serve him? He has the power to replace whoever is on the Iron Throne, we both know that. So why didn’t he?” I crossed my legs. “There was a time when he did serve the Realm, but now after everything, Aenys, Robert, Joffrey, it’s not wrong to question his motives.” 

Tyrion sat there taking in my harsh words, not knowing if to believe me or his friend. 

“He could have done it right, he had his opportunity to serve the realm.” I argued. “He could have helped Rhaegar peacefully take his fathers throne, but instead he whispered in Aenys’ ear and fed into his paranoia, knowing that the consequences would be deadly.” 

“But Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna Stark and raped her surly that proves that he wasn’t fit to be King.” He countered. 

“Is that what you believe?” I looked into his eyes. “Or was that what you were told?” 

Tyrion frowns. “Are you saying that that is false? Rhaegar did not do those things?” 

I press my lips together. “There is a lot that you don’t know about. And in due time it’ll come out. But I need to know where your loyalties lie; Varys or Daenerys. Your friend may seem like he’s a team player, but we don’t really know that. When you bent the knee to Daenerys you did it because you believed in her and her vision of a new and better world, do not forget that.” 

–––

I quietly shut the door behind me. The castle hall was barren of anyone as they were all asleep. Deciding that I needed to cool off a bit I made a right, taking the longer way back to my room. The talk with Tyrion was difficult. I knew going in that it would be nearly impossible to fully convince him of dropping Varys. But as long as I could plant the seeds of doubt I knew my plan would work. 

During the final years of Daenerys’ campaign and life Tyrion had been slipping from his duties of her Hand all because of Varys whispering his venomous words into his ear. I just hoped that this would be enough for him to reevaluate his loyalties and come back to Daenerys’ side.

Turning into my room I stripped myself of my armor and down to my shift before crawling into bed. I stared up onto the stone ceiling, tracing the sharp edges with my eyes. I could only hope that tomorrow would be less action filled, but then again Jon Snow was coming. 

––

The next morning Daenerys had once again called an early Small Council meeting. And after last night's side mission, it was safe to say that I was exhausted. 

If only this era had energy drinks then I would be able to properly function. Despite my sleep deprivation it didn’t stop me from telling the servant brushing my hair of my new hairstyle. After all, I made Daenerys’ a promise. 

We met again in the Painted Chamber, sitting around a table (that wasn’t shaped like Westeros). I sat on the left side near Daenerys’ seat and Missandei sat to my right. Tyrion took a seat across from me, giving everyone polite nods, but avoiding eye contact with me. 

I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest and closing my eyes, sighing. 

“You look tired.” Missandei comments in Valyrian. “Did you sleep alright?”

I opened my eyes and tilted my head towards her. “As good as I can after riding a dragon all night. I was planning on sleeping as soon as I came back but I had to speak with someone.”

“Lord Hand?”

I nod. “By the time I went back to my room I was out like a light.”

She stays quiet for a moment, flickering her gaze to Tyrion and the empty seat for Varys next to him. “I take it that your conversation didn’t make much progress.” 

I lightly scoffed. “They’re friends. He saved him from being executed by his sister. He feels that he’s indebted to him. But he also knows where his loyalties should lie, or at least he does after last night.”

The doors open once more and Varys steps into the room, taking his seat next to Tyrion. Missandei and I exchange another look just as the doors open again and Daenerys steps in. Everyone raises as she makes her way to the head of the table. She briefly paused, glancing at my hair and smiling before sitting down with us a beat behind.

“Last night not only were we able to safely defend our allies, but we also took Euron Greyjoy as a prisoner and his fleet all thanks to Y/n’s insite.” Daenerys nods my way before locking eyes with Varys. “However, I wonder how my Master of Whispers had no knowledge of the ambush or how Cersei knew their whereabouts.” 

Varys bows his head. “I apologize, Your Grace. I was informed by my little birds by the time Lady Vellarys had arrived back.” Tyrion glanced over towards me before looking down at his folded hands atop the table. 

Daenerys keeps her eyes locked on Varys for another moment before looking away. “Regardless, my allies are safe and Cersei has one less.” She turned towards Tyrion, “have you heard from Jon Snow?”

“Yes, Your Grace. He’s left for Dragonstone and will be arriving by tomorrow late afternoon.” Tyrion replies. 

“And you’re sure that he will be an ally and not a threat?” 

“He’s a noble man. I’m sure once he meets you he will swear his loyalties to you.” Tyrion nods and I bite my tongue, if only they knew.

“Good,” she nods. “Then we’ll have the South, West, and North on our sides and Cersei will have no one.” 

“Not entirely.” I said. “It’s true she has fewer men than us, but not for long. She’ll be contacting the Golden Company for soldiers and cavalry.” 

“But the Lannisters are in debt,” Varys says. “Their gold is nearly gone.” 

“But the Tyrell’s aren’t.” 

“She’s going to ransack Highgarden?” Daenerys asks. 

I nod. “She needs money for her debts and army and, currently, the Tyrells are the richest family in Westeros.” 

Daenerys nods. “Send a raven to Highgarden informing them of Caersei’s attack.” 

Once the meeting had ended Daenerys dismissed everyone but me. I poured us both some wine, handing her a glass. 

“You’re smiling.”

“Your hair.” She replied. 

“I told you, once I’ve won you a battle I’ll wear a braid.” 

“How did you feel?” 

I shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think I had so much adrenaline in me that it numbed me.” 

She nodded, smiling but I could tell that something was going through her mind. 

“You’re distracted.” 

She looks down at her glass. “Yesterday when I spoke to Lady Olenna alone she told me that she was handing over Highgarden to me.” 

I nod. “She’s going to take her life. She’s the last of the Tyrells and she’s entrusted you with her home.” I watched her expression change. “But that’s not what you’re thinking about.” 

She hesitates. “I’m also the last of my house. I can’t bear any children. My bloodline ends with me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“But Mirri Maz Durr said-” 

“Forget about her. That woman took Khal Drogo and your child's life, that’s all. You will have more children.”

“But if I can’t,” she reaches over, taking my hand in hers. “I want you first in my line of succession.” 

I sucked in a breath, shocked at what she was saying. She wanted me to do what?

“Promise me, that if I can’t have an heir that you will.” 

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Me, continue the Targaryen line through my children? I didn’t even know if I would stay long enough for that to happen. 

I placed my other hand on top of hers. “You will have children that will carry your and your house's name for generations to come, I promise you that.” 

–––––

Waves crashed against the rocks littered across Dragonstones beach. A group of men led by Tyrion and Missandei make their way up the stone pathway built into the island's cliff. A loud roar is heard from overhead and the group of men all dive down as Drogon and Viserion fly over them. They watch in a mix of shock and amazement and look back to Missandei and Tyrion standing. Tyrion helps one of the men up but he stops in his tracks making eye contact with someone standing above the steps on the stone landing. Tyrion and Missandei follow the man's gaze and watch as I step off the landing and walk down to them. 

“Meet Lady Y/n Vellarys, a close confidante of Queen Daenerys. Lady Vellarys, this is Jon Snow and Ser Davos Seaworth.” Tyrion says, motioning to the two men. 

“I apologize for the scare, they just had their afternoon nap and are quite energized.” I say to them. “Come,” I turned back towards the castle. “Their mother is waiting for you.” 

Jon and Davos exchange glances with one another and take one last look up at the sky seeing all three of the dragons flying before following behind. I look up to the cliffs and see Melisandre and Varys standing together, exchanging words of their own.

They’re led into the castle and the Dothraki guards open the door to the throne room. Daenerys sits on the throne, watching the King in the North and his men enter. Tyrion, Missandei, and I step up onto the dais and to our respective places as Missandei addressed the men. 

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” 

Jon turns to look at Davos, both looking underprepared. 

“This is Jon Snow.” Davos says. He nods and pauses. “He’s King in the North.” 

I could see Tyrion smirking in the corner of my eye and I have to stop myself from laughing.

“Thank you for traveling so far, My Lords. I hope the seas weren’t too rough.” Daenerys says. 

“The winds were kind, Your Grace,” Jon replies. 

“Apologies. I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know. But Jon Snow is King in the North, Your Grace. He's not a lord.” Ser Davos interrupts, confused.

“Forgive me,” Daenerys glances towards Tyrion for a name. 

“Your Grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth.” 

“Forgive me, Ser Davos.” She continued and I could hear the slight annoyance in her voice. “I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn the last King in the North was Torren Stark who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen in exchange for his life and the lives of the northmen. Torren Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. But do I have my facts wrong?”

“I wasn’t there, Your Grace.” He replies bluntly.

“No. Of course not. But still, an oath is an oath. In perpetuity means – what does perpetuity mean, Lord Tyrion?” 

“Forever,” He says. 

“Forever.” She echos. “So I assume, My Lord, that you’re here to bend the knee.” 

“I am not.” Jon replied, unwavering. 

“Oh. Well, that is unfortunate. You've traveled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?” Daenerys’ patients was waning thin and I feared that this meeting was all for nought. 

Jon could scoff. “Break faith? Your father burned my grandfather alive. He burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms.” 

“My father was an evil man.” Daenerys began. “On behalf of House Targaryen I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. And I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father. Our two houses were allies for centuries. Those were the best centuries the kingdom's ever known. Centuries of peace and prosperity with the Targaryens sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow. Honor the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North. Together we will save this country from those who would destroy it.”

Jon nods. “You're right. You're not guilty of your father's crime.” I let out a sigh of relief thinking that he had come around. “And I'm not beholden to my ancestor's vows.”

I looked over at Tyrion who was annoyed. After all, he had vouched for Jon and it all seemed to backfire on him.

“Then why are you here?” Daenerys narrows her gaze at Jon. 

He takes a moment to answer. “Because I need your help and you need mine.” He sounds somewhat desperate, but also scared and it dawns on me.

Daenerys looks at Tyrion and then back to Jon. “Did you see three dragons flying overhead when you arrived?” 

“I did.”

“And did you see the Dothraki, all of whom have sworn to kill for me?” 

“They’re hard to miss.” 

“But still, I need your help?” Daenerys could almost laugh. 

“Not to defeat Cersei. You could storm King’s Landing tomorrow and the city would fall. Hell, we almost took it and we didn’t have dragons.” Ser Davos says, remembering the Battle of Blackwater Bay. 

“Almost.” Tyrion reminds. 

“But you haven't stormed King's Landing. Why not?” Jon says. “The only reason I can see is you don't want to kill thousands of innocent people. It's the fastest way to win the war but you won't do it. Which means at the very least you're better than Cersei.”

“Still, that doesn’t explain why I need your help.”

“Because right now you and I and Cersei and everyone else, we’re children playing at a game screaming that rules aren’t fair.” Jon says bluntly. 

Daenerys turns towards Tyrion, annoyance clearly written on her face. “You told me you liked this man.” 

“I do.” 

“In the time since he’s met me he’s refused to call me queen, he’s refused to bow and now he’s calling me a child.” 

“I believe he’s calling all of us children. Figure of speech.” Tyrion tries to clarify. 

“Your Grace,” Jon speaks up, getting her attention. “Everyone you know will die before winter is over if we don’t defeat the enemy to the north.” 

“As far as I can see, you are the enemy to the north.” Daenerys accuses.

“I am not your enemy.” Jon shakes his head. “The dead are the enemy.” 

My heart drops and Daenerys turns to me. I let out a shaky breath and turned towards Daenerys with a grim look and nod.

“Listen to him.” I say. 

“The Army of the Dead is on the march.” Jon explains.

“The Army of the Dead?” Tyrion repeats. 

“You don’t know me well, My Lord, but do you think I am a liar or a madman?” 

Tyrion shakes his head. “No. I don’t think you're either of those things.”

“The Army of the Dead is real. The White Walkers are real. The Night King is real. I’ve seen them. If they get past the wall and we’re squabbling amongst ourselves–,” Jon steps closer to the throne and the Dothraki guards step towards him. “–we’re finished.”

Everyone waits for Daenerys to say something. “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it.” She stands up and walks down the steps towards Jon. “We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me. I don't remember all of their names. I have been sold like a brood mare. I have been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any gods. Not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea.” 

She stops walking, face to face with Jon Snow. “They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms.” 

I held my breath, waiting for Jon’s response. 

“You’ll be ruling over a graveyard if we don’t defeat the Night King.” 

Tyrion steps up to stand next to Daenerys. “The war against my sister has already begun. You can't expect us to halt hostilities and join you in fighting… whatever you saw beyond the wall.”

Ser Davos decides to speak up. “You don’t believe him. I understand that, It sounds like nonsense.” 

Jon nods in agreement as Ser Davos continues. “But if destiny has brought Daenerys Targaryen back to our shores, it has also made Jon Snow King in the North. You were the first to bring Dothraki to Westeros” 

The older man tries to reason with Daenerys so she can see their point of view. “He was the first to make allies with Wildlings and northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He was named King in the North. Not because of his birthright. He has no birthright. He's a damn bastard. All those hard sons of bitches chose him as their leader because they believe in him.”

Daenerys turns her attention towards Jon as Ser Davos sang his praises. “All those things you don't believe in, he faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people. He risked his life for his people. He took a knife in the heart for his people. He gave his own–” Jon gives Davos a look to stop talking, catching Daenerys and Tyrions attention. Davos spoke more calmly, taking a breath.“If we don't put aside our enmities and band together we will die. And then it doesn't matter whose skeleton sits on the Iron Throne.”

“If it doesn’t matter you might as well kneel.” Tyrion says. Jon shakes his head and Tyrion continues to rationalize with him. “Swear your allegiance to Queen Daenerys. Help her to defeat my sister and together our armies will protect the north.” 

“There’s no time for that.” Jon replies, almost solemnly. “There’s no time for any of this. While we stand here debating–”

“It takes no time to bend the knee. Pledge your sword to her cause.” Tyrion interjects. 

“And why would I do that?” Jon snaps. He turns to speak to Daenerys. “I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I don't know you. As far as I can tell your claim to the throne rests entirely on your father's name. And my own father fought to overthrow the Mad King. The lords of the north placed their trust in me to lead them. And I will continue to do so as well as I can.”

“That's fair.” Daenerys notes. “It's also fair to point out that I'm the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. By declaring yourself king of the northernmost kingdom, you are in open rebellion.”

Seeing that this “meeting” wasn’t going anywhere I stepped towards Daenerys. “Your Grace, I think it would be wise for us to take a break and resume at a later time, when we’re all a bit more level-headed.” 

Daenerys clenches her jaw before regaining her composure. “You must forgive my manners. You both must be tired after your long journey. We'll have baths drawn for you and supper sent to your rooms.”

She turns to her guards and instructs them in Dothraki to take them up to the guest rooms and to keep an eye on them. Before he leaves Jon asks her a question. 

“Am I your prisoner?” 

“Not yet.” 

As Jon and Ser Davos are led out the throne room Daenerys turns to walk back to the throne. There’s a pregnant pause in the air as all eyes are on Daenerys.

“Everyone except for Y/n leave.” 

Tyrion and Missandei look at one another and then towards me, concerned. I let out a sigh, raising my head and giving the two a reassuring nod. They both walk past me and I catch Varys looking a bit smug as he’s the last to leave. The stone doors shut close, leaving Daenerys and I alone. She turns back to me, seething. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She steps closer. 

“Daenerys..” I hesitated, not knowing what to say. “I didn’t think that they’d be so quick– I thought we had enough time to prepare.” 

Truthfully, it had taken a lot longer for the Army of the Dead to start marching towards the Wall. Could my arrival have changed events?

“Then what? When were you going to tell me? When this Night King is at our shores?” She takes a deep breath. “You said you’d tell me everything I needed to know. Clearly, that was a lie.” 

I shook my head, “no it’s not.” I stepped closer to her. “Yes it’s true there are things that I’m not telling you in full. But it’s for your own good. There are some things you need to learn on your own.” 

I took her hand in mine. “I swear to you, I will never betray you. You’re all I have in this world. You’re my only friend, my sister. Everything that I’m doing is for you, Daenerys” 

I held my breath and watched as she debated my words. After what felt like years, Daenerys nodded. “Alight.” 

She leans in, pressing her forehead against mine. “When I awoke this morning I thought I would have another ally, but it seems that I’ve made another enemy.”

I shook my head. “No. We need Jon. Not just for the Army of the Dead, but also for Cersei. Dany,” I leaned my head back. “Try to get to know him. To him, and the rest of Westeros, you’re an outsider. It doesn't matter that you were born here and that for hundreds of years your family have been every bit Westerosi as they are. You need to share your stories and see past this Targaryen-Stark nonsense. The people of Westeros– especially the north, look at Jon as the most honorable man, just like Ned Stark. If you can get him on your side, then you can get everyone else.” 

–––– 

I walked around the stone pathway around the castle, clearing my head. I needed to devise a new plan. One that would secure the North and bring a better light to Daenerys. 

In the past, or the future, whichever it is, Jon and Daenerys gradually get closer. It’s not after the death, and later resurrection, of Viserion do the pair really get close. They made a good pair, both romantically but as well as politically. Even after Jon’s true parentage was revealed, he stuck by Dany and reiterated his loyalty to her. If there was one thing that would solidify them together, protect Dany’s claim, and ally the North to us it’s–

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

I turned back to see Varys with the same smug smile he had when he left the throne room. 

“Fallen? Don’t make me laugh, Varys.” 

“But it’s true. You’ve failed Daenerys and soon she’ll find that she has no use for you and cast you aside.” 

I tried my best not to laugh. “If you really think that, then you’ve lost your damn mind.” I stepped closer to Varys, “I’m not going anywhere. And you can try to push me away, but know that it’s only going to end with you staring up at Drogon and Daenerys saying that one magical word.” 

I stepped to the side and walked past Varys, letting my shoulder hit his. “Watch your back, Spider.” 

I followed the northern path further up the cliffs where I spotted Theon Greyjoy looking out into the ocean. 

“Lord Theon,” I addressed the man. “I thought you had sailed back to the Iron Islands by now.” 

He bowed, surprised that I had found him. We made eye contact for a brief moment before he looked away. “No, My Lady. We needed more supplies and to repair our ship.”

“I see.” 

An awkward silence hung between us as Theon would periodically look up towards me before shying away. 

“Is something the matter?” My question seemed to have caught him a bit off guard. 

“Thank you, My Lady.” 

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re allies, we’re supposed to support and protect one another.” I replied. 

He lightly shakes his head. “No.” He purses his lips together. “When the ambush happened.. Yara was held hostage by Euron. He.. He was going to kill her. I got scared.. but your words, they helped me save my sister.” 

Oh. 

“Again, there’s no need to thank me.” I smiled. “You saved your sister, not my words. It took courage to fight for her and you found it. Don’t let what others say change that.” 

He gives me a small smile, letting my words sink in deep and I wondered if anyone had said anything nice to him since his capture and torture. His eyes shift past me and his smile wavers. I turn back to see Tyrion and Jon Snow staring daggers at Theon. 

“Oh fuck.” I mutter, watching the two men step towards each other. 

“Jon, is Sansa alright?” Theon genuinely asks. 

Jon grabs him by his armor's leather straps. “Don’t you dare say her name. You think that what you did for her would save you?”

“Stop it. Let him go.” I said, but he didn’t listen. Theon held onto Jons wrist but made no effort to push him away, seemingly accepting his fate. Jon’s face contorted with anger and grief and was close to plowing Theon’s face in. Tyrion looked at the two young lords wondering if there was going to be some brawl, or rather just Jon beating Theon to the ground.

“Stop at once!” I raised my voice. “This is Dragonstone and as long as you’re standing on this island you will conduct yourself accordingly. If you want to fight like children then fight in the ocean. Now, let go of him, Jon Snow.” 

Begrudgingly, Jon let go to Theon, giving him a push as he did so. Theon looked down as he straightened himself while Jon took a step back, staring daggers at him.

“We’re all allies here, regardless of what happened.”

“But my brother–” Jon tried to reason. 

“Is safe.” I reassured. “Bran is safe and alive. He was north of the wall, but he should be back in Winterfell soon.” 

Jon’s face was a mix of shock and disbelief. “How can you be so sure?”

“I just am. Your brother will be home soon, My Lord. But fighting amongst ourselves won’t help us in the slightest, especially for what's to come.” 

There’s a moment of silence between all of us before Jon nods and backs down. Without a word he turns back to the castle. Theon also left shortly leaving only Tyrion and I. 

“I believe that was the first time I’ve ever seen you raise your voice, My Lady.” He places his hands behind his back.

“If they keep squabbling like this then it won’t be the last.” I grumbled. 

Tyrion doesn’t say anything in return, only staring at the ground. 

“You have something to say?” 

Tyrion glances up, “how do you know that Bran Stark is alive?”

“Like I said, I just know.” I turned to face him fully. “Now, has Jon spoken to you about the Dragonglass?”

Tyrion’s taken aback. “How- right, you just know. Yes, he has. We were headed to speak to Daenerys before, well, all of this.”

“Good,” I nod. “Let's go.”

–––––

“Dragonglass?” Daenerys asks.

“Yes. Volcanic glass, obsidian.” Tyrion says. “He says you have a tremendous amount of it here.”

She turns to me for confirmation. I give her a nod, sitting back in my chair. “It’s down in the caves.” 

“And what does the King in the North want with Dragonglass?” She turns back to Tyrion. 

“Apparently it can be turned into weapons that can kill White Walkers and their foot soldiers, or stop them, destroy them. I’m unsure of the nomenclature.” 

“Only Dragonglass and Valyrian steel can kill White Walkers,” I clarified. “The caves below Dragonstone are filled with Dragonglass.” 

“It’s our only way to kill them.” Tyrion says. 

“And what do you think of this Army of the Dead and White Walkers and Night King?” Daenerys asks Tyrion.

“I’d very much like to believe that Jon Snow is wrong, but a wise man once said that you should never believe a thing simply because you want to believe it.” 

“Which wise man said this?” Daenerys raises a brow. 

“I don’t remember,” Tyrion replied innocently. 

“Are you trying to present your own statements as ancient wisdom?” Daenerys says. 

“I would never do that...to you.” He replies, bashfully. “The reason I believe Jon Snow is because he's here. All of his advisors would have told him not to come. I would have told him not to come, yet he's here anyway. You don't have to believe him. Let him mine the Dragonglass. If he's wrong it's worthless. You didn't even know it was here. It's nothing to you. Give him something by giving him nothing. Take a step toward a more productive relationship with a possible ally. Keep him occupied while we focus on the task at hand.”

Daenerys turns towards me. “What was that Ser Davos said about taking a ‘knife in the heart for his people’? Did you notice that?” 

I shrugged, “not my place, you know that.” 

A servant enters the chambers holding out a raven's scroll. I grabbed it, reading the contents before handing it off to Daenerys. 

“We should go.”

–––

The wind blew around us as Daenerys and I got ready for our departure. Not too long ago we had received a raven from the Unsullied and from the scouts we had sent over to Bitter Bridge to inform us of Lannister movement. As planned, Jamie was leading half of the Lannister forces from Casterly Rock to Highgarden.

“The fight to take the Rock will be easy,” I say climbing up onto Viserion. “With the new armor and weapons and the fact that they outnumber the Lannister force it will be an easy fight. 

“By the time the Unsullied captures the castle we will have reached Highgarden.” Daenerys says, sitting atop Drogon. Knowing what was to come we ordered our dragons to fly into the sky. 

The wind ripped past us, blowing my hair back. My hands gripped tighter to Viserions spikes, hunching down even further. I looked to my left seeing Daenerys and Drogon flying next to me, both looking determined as ever. The plan was simple; Daenerys and Drogon ambushes the Lannister force head on while Viserion and I sneak into the castle and help Olenna out to safety before I join the fight, and as a added measure, Tyrion and a few Dothraki would be with us to help in the fight. 

Drogon and Viserion dived down, the clouds parting away and revealing Highgarden. Even from up above we could see the soldiers on the ground. Daenerys and Drogon split off from Viserion and I. With a loud scratch and a burst of dragonfire, Drogon easily captures the attention of the enemy while Viserion flies to the back of the castle. He lands on the wall, the limestone crumbling beneath his talons. 

“Stay low and calm. I’ll be back soon.” I jumped off of Viserion. I watch as he flies down from the wall and hides from the enemy force. 

Carefully, I made my way into the interior of the castle. I drew out my sword ready for any surprise attacks. The halls were barren, safe for a few torches and tapestry that hung on the walls. I came down a set of stairs when I heard the sound of footsteps, a set of two. There's a muffled voice and then a set of footsteps walking away while the other set of footsteps came towards me. I hid behind a corner when I came face to face with a Lannister soldier. I took a step back and he lunged forward, aiming for my head. I side stepped, using the side of my sword to nudge him to the side and delivering a blow to his left. The steel easily cuts the small bit of him that wasn’t protected by his Lannister armor. He lets out a growl, growing more enraged. 

“Arg! You Targaryen bitch!” He plunges forward again with more force. He swings his sword towards me, but I’m quick to block it. He pushes against my own sword walking me backwards. My back hits the wall and he uses his full weight to try and pin me down.

The man gives a sickening smile, watching me struggle against him. “Once I’ve killed you ‘m gonna kill your fuckin’ dragons and then ‘m gonna fuck the Queen.” 

I recoil back into the wall feeling his rancid breath on my face. Quickly, I bring my leg up, using all my force and kneeing him in the groin. He jolts back, hunches over in pain and I quickly grab the back of his head, bringing his face down to my knee. There’s a loud crunch as his nose breaks against my armored knee. I push him back and plunge the sword into his neck, a loud and garbled scream ripped out of him. His wide eyes watched me pull the sword out of his neck, blood oozing and gushing out.

His body collapses against the stone floor with a thud. My chest plate raises and falls as I try to catch my breath. My entire body was on fire as I stared down at his body. I’d just killed a man. Technically speaking, he wasn’t the first I’d killed. I’d killed dozens of Eurons men, but that was up in the sky and by Dragonfire, not in a castle hallway with a sword. 

Once I had regained my breathing, I pushed his body back so it was out of view and quietly made my way further to where Olenna would have been. Right as I reach the doors, I hear a female and male voice, the same one that I had heard before I came across the Lannister soldier. I looked around for a place to hide, opting to hide between a pillar and a large stone planter. I hunched down to the ground as the oak doors opened and a man in Lannister gold stepped out, but what caught my eye was the golden hand. 

Jamie Lannister. 

Once his footsteps faded away I snuck into the room that he’d just come out of. An empty vile sat on the table and Olenna stood by the window, looking out at the gardens. 

“Came back to finish me off yourself?” 

“No, My Lady.” I replied. She turns around, surprised to see me. I pull out a blue vile of antidote towards her. “Quickly, take the antidote.” 

She shakes her head, “it’s too late for me now, my child.” She walks over to me, “tell your sister my time is now. I’ve already informed everyone in Highgarden to follow Daenerys’ command.”

I shook my head. “You can’t give up. Your house still needs you.” 

“My house is gone,” she squeezes my hands. “My children and grandchildren are gone. My dear Margery was all I had and that wretched Cersei took her from me. I have no one else.” 

“But don’t you want to get your revenge? Watch as Cersei loses the only thing she loved and succumbs to Dany’s dragonfire for all her crimes?” I pleaded. She shook her head again, patting my hand like a loving grandmother would. 

“My time is over, dear. If only my Margery had someone like you by her side she could have lived.” She turns back and sits down at the table. “Come, sit with me.”

I walk over to the table, sitting across from me. “Promise me that Cersei will suffer.” 

“I promise.” 

She places her hands on top of mine as we sit there waiting for the end.

a/n: so we're back :))

fun fact, actually, I've written up all the way to the Long Night lol, but I still need to refine and rewrite somethings.

how was this? how did we like the girlies fighting?

lmk ur thoughts !

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