#as i am growing older I am having so many feelings about how i was raised compared to other people i know

[gingiesworld]

Queen Of My Heart

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Bittersweet Ending, Arranged Marriage. Death

18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.8K+

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Wanda Maximoff was everyone’s dream girl, the woman who had the most beautiful eyes, a smile that could brighten even the darkest of days, and a kind heart. Every man wanted her to be their wife, leaving many suitors to keep approaching her father about her hand in marriage.

“There’s another one.” Pietro groaned as he joined Wanda behind the counter of the Apothecary that their parents had owned.

“Why can’t they all just leave me be.” Wanda sighed as Pietro shrugged. “I don’t want to be with any of them, and it’s stupid to think that asking father would help them.”

“I’m sorry, Wanda, but that’s just how it is. No one truly marries for love, they never have.” Pietro told her.

“But that is what I want, I want a partner who makes me smile so effortlessly, I want a connection that isn’t forced, it just flows naturally.” She told him as she organised some of the jars on the shelf, dusting them as she went along. “I want to be with someone who I see a future with, not just for financial gains. Someone who wouldn’t care what we had or didn’t have, I just want that type of love that makes everything in the world seem so superfluous.”

“You mean what you have with Y/N?” He questioned, earning a slap on the arm.

“Shush. Father can’t find out.” Wanda whispered. “He will kill both of us, but yes. I just want to be able to live with them on some farm and grow old with them.”

“Wanda, your mother needs your help in the kitchen.” Mr Maximoff approached the twins, a smile on his face. “We have guests coming over tonight, and a possible suitor for you.”

“Father, I don’t.” Wanda tried only to get cut off by him.

“I don’t care if you want this or not. This is what’s best for this family and your future family.” He told her firmly. “You need to learn to remember your place.” He told her before he left the shop.

“I guess this is it.” Wanda sighed as she gave Pietro the rag. “My life and dreams are officially over.”

“They aren’t.” Pietro tried as Wanda just shook her head before she disappeared towards the kitchen to help her mother.

“I’ve already laid out your best dress.” Mrs Maximoff beamed as she prepared the dough for her bread. “This is so exhilarating, you’re going to be a wife.”

“I don’t want to be a wife.” Wanda told her honestly. “Besides, I don’t know this man either.”

“I didn’t know your father, but I can’t say that I was against marrying him when he asked your grandparents.” Her mother spoke. “But, I can say that over the time I have spent with him, I learned to love him and we then had you and your brother.”

“I don’t want to learn to love. I want it to be natural, just feel it without even spending an unknown amount of uncomfortable time with someone who is only going to help keep father’s business afloat.” Wanda told her honestly.

“There isn’t a choice in this Wanda.” Mrs Maximoff spoke angrily. “You are a woman, this is your womanly duty to provide for a husband and build a family with him.” Wanda sighed and gave up fighting against her mother, knowing she won’t exactly see the situation as Wanda does.

The night soon fell, the Starks were a well respected family in the Westview, Mr and Mrs Stark had two children, Jarvis and Morgan Stark. Given there is a significant age gap between the two siblings, they both remained close. Jarvis being the protective older brother that his sister needed.

“Are you nervous, son?” Mr Stark asked as the carriage came to a stop before the Scarlet Apothecary.

“I am father.” He answered truthfully, having seen Wanda everyday since they were children, falling for her every time he saw her or heard her voice. He loved the sound of her laugh, although he hated that he was never the one who made her laugh. That only fueled his deep hatred for Y/N Rogers, the only one who has ever truly been extremely close to Wanda. Everyone in Westview saw both Wanda and Y/N as best friends, even one of the neighbors would joke saying that the two of them would fall in love and wed.

“It is going to be fine.” Mrs Stark reassured him, making him smile as they all left the carriage, the two gentlemen helping the ladies down the steps. “She would be stupid not to see such a fine man.”

As they approached Maximoff's residence, Wanda was too busy pacing her bedroom, soon moving as fast as she could when she heard her window open, locking her door before she saw Y/N climb inside.

“You know, you could always tell me you don’t need me anymore.” They smirked as Wanda sighed. “We had a date, and you never came and I got worried.” They told her truthfully.

“I’m sorry Y/N/N, but my father.” She tried before her eyes started to fill with tears. “He’s trying to marry me off to someone.”

“He can’t do that.” Y/N stepped closer to her, their arms soon wrapping around her, pulling her into their strong embrace. “That’s not.”

“He can do that.” Wanda sniffled. “It’s not like women have similar rights to men.”

“Well, you should.” They told her firmly. “Everyone is allowed to have the freedom of choice. It shouldn’t matter depending on your gender.”

“I just.” Wanda tried as Y/N ran their fingers through her brown locks.

“I will be here when you’re finished and I can hold you until you fall asleep.” They told her softly.

“But, what about your father?” She asked them, they just shrugged.

“I’m only going to be missing another talk on why I need to uphold the family name and join the military.” They told her, they gently kissed the top of her head before she left the room. As she approached the dining room, she could hear the voices of her father, Pietro and two other men, all of them laughing as the smell of whiskey and tobacco filled the air.

“Here she is.” Mr Maximoff beamed as she stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Wanda, dear, come on in and introduce yourself.”

“Hello.” She spoke quietly, doing a small curtsy before she caught sight of her twin's grin as he tried to hold in his laugh.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Wanda.” Mr Stark spoke as he took her hand in his, pressing a kiss upon her knuckles, she had to try to hide the uncomfortable feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. “Jarvis here has told his mother and myself an awful lot about you.”

“Jarvis?” She questioned as she looked at the tall man beside her twin. “I don’t think we have ever met, I’m sorry.”

“Wanda!” Mr Maximoff scolded her, causing her to flinch at the anger within his tone before Jarvis spoke up.

“It’s perfectly fine.” He told them both with a warm smile. “I know we have never uttered a single word to one another, but I have noticed you Wanda, I have noticed you everyday since you first moved here with your family.”

“Why have you never spoken to her?” Mr Stark questioned as Jarvis shrugged.

“Well, Y/N Rogers seems to always have her attention.” He answered as Mr Maximoff scoffed.

“I don’t care for that Rogers child.” He spoke bitterly. “They are just a military family, and soon enough Mr Rogers will have them shipped off into the next War and then who knows, we may never have to see them again.”

“Father.” Pietro stepped in, seeing how Mr Maximoff’s words had affected Wanda. “Y/N is an amazing friend and they have always been there for Wanda. Did you know they were also the one who had done all of my chores that time when I had broken my leg? I never asked them too, they noticed the amount of extra stress that you put on Wanda and they decided to help. They are always there for her when we are not.”

“Don’t you dare speak out of term to me, boy.” Mr Maximoff seethed as the sound of the slap had silenced the room. “You do not disrespect me in front of our guests, now get out of my sight.” With that, Pietro left the room in a hurry, holding his already bruising cheek.

“I’m going to check on my mother and dinner.” Wanda spoke quietly before she left the dining room. She had hoped that maybe some unfortunate circumstance would happen and they would cancel dinner, but just as she had entered the kitchen, her mother was already bringing out the food.

“We are going to feast like royalty tonight.” Mr Maximoff beamed as he took his seat at the head of the table, opposite Mr Stark. Everyone had soon settled in to take their seats, soon digging in and sharing small conversations.

“I know this may seem forward.” Jarvis spoke as he sat beside Wanda. “Would you like to accompany myself on a stroll through the park on Sunday, after church?”

“I don’t know, I have to help my mother with the shop.” Wanda tried as Mr Maximoff shook his head.

“I can help your mother, you should go on this date.” He told her sternly. “You may never find another fine young man like Jarvis again.” He turned to face Jarvis. “She will be there to accompany you, she will meet you at the park.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jarvis beamed, soon the rest of the evening passed by in a blur, Wanda soon finding herself helping her mother in the kitchen with the cleaning before they all had retired to their bedrooms.

“Hey.” Y/N whispered as Wanda entered her room. “How was it?” They asked as she sat on the edge of her bed after locking her door.

“Awful.” She sighed, running her hands over her face. “My father is all for it and what he said about you.” She stopped herself before she continued.

“I heard.” They told her. “Your father isn’t exactly tactful in trying to be silent about his distaste.”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered as Y/N moved to sit beside her, wrapping their arms around her and pulling her into them.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling.” They told her, cupping her cheeks and wiping the tears that had threatened to fall. “I will always be here for you, however and whenever you need me.” Wanda looked into their eyes, seeing how the blue shone in the moonlight, she had always loved their eyes but seeing them in this lighting was something different, and she loved it. It was a sight she wanted to be able to see every night for the rest of her life. She soon leaned in and pressed her lips against theirs, their lips both moving in unison before she snapped back to reality.

“I’m so sorry.” She said as she moved away from them. “I didn’t.” She tried before Y/N cut her off, approaching her, taking her hands in theirs.

“It’s okay.” They gave her a soft smile. “Although, I have to be honest with you.” They sighed before continuing. “I have always wanted to kiss, I can’t quite recall in which moment I began to feel more for you, but I do.” Wanda shook her head in haste, pressing her fingers to their lips.

“Please don’t say it.” She whispered sadly. “As much as I want to hear you say it, I want it to feel amazing and in a moment that is special between the two of us, within a moment that solidifies that our union will be forever.” She moved her finger as she continued. “This isn’t that moment, if I hear you say those words I so desperately want to hear right now, it will shatter my already broken heart.”

“I’m sorry.” They told her before they stepped away from her slightly. “I uh, I should take my leave now.”

“Please stay.” Wanda pleaded as they moved towards her window. “I need you to hold me, just for tonight.” And that was indeed the start of the pair’s internal struggles. Y/N hated seeing Wanda accompanying Jarvis everywhere, ever since their stroll in the park, her father had urged her to go on more outings with her husband to be. She would even see as Y/N would pass her by in the street, her heart breaking little by little, just as theirs was breaking. Knowing that in this lifetime they will never have the life they had always dreamed about when they were just children.

“You can’t seriously think you can make a name for yourself with these knick knacks.” Mr Rogers scolded as he approached Y/N who was happily carving pieces for a new chess board.

“I don’t think that father.” They answered him. “This is merely something that brings me peace and tranquility.”

“I have arranged a meeting with my old Senior Officer.” He told them as he picked up a rook, looking at it between his fingers, a look of disdain on his face. “He will help with getting you set for joining the services.”

“I don’t.” Y/N told him, placing down their chisel and the King they were carving.

“I do not care what you do or don’t.” Mr Rogers seethed, throwing the rook far into the field before he gripped Y/N up to their feet by the scruff of their collar. “You have a family name to respect, we are a military family and you will follow the path that I have laid out for you.”

“Yes, sir.” Y/N spoke flatly, their eyes never leaving their father’s who then started to straighten out Y/N’s clothes.

“I will see you at supper.” He told them before he left, Y/N watching as he disappeared out of the field, not realizing that Wanda was approaching them.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” She questioned urgently as she approached them, watching as they soon turned to face her.

“I’m fine.” They grumbled as they sat back down in their spot, grabbing their tools to finish carving the King.

“I found this.” Wanda held out her hand, the rook in which Mr Rogers had just thrown.

“Thank you Wan.” They smiled at her, her own smile widening at the nickname she had missed so much. “How are things with Jarvis?” They asked her, an edge of bitterness in their tone.

“I don’t like him.” She told them honestly as she sat down beside them, watching as Y/N’s hands worked on the small wooden figurine. “I can see that he likes me, but I just, I don’t think I will ever like him in that way.”

“But, this is what your father wants for you and your family’s future.” Y/N reminded her as she just shook her head.

“My father only wants the financial benefactors that come with this arrangement, he couldn’t care less about the family.” Wanda told them, before she turned to watch their face as theY concentrated. “I just want to be able to be with the one person who I am truly in love with freely, without any judgment from my father.”

“And how do you suggest you do that?” Y/N questioned, their attention soon turning to her, their faces close as they could feel her breath on their lips.

“I don’t know.” Wanda whispered, her eyes flashing between both their eyes and their lips. That kiss they had both shared, never really left her mind since the night it happened. “I just, I know what I want, I know who I want but I just.”

“Have to live up to our parents' expectations of us.” Y/N finished for her, their faces had somehow moved closer, their noses brushing one another. “I understand that perfectly.” They whispered sadly. “I want nothing more than to be able to remain here, marry the one woman whom I have only ever seen within my future and start a family with her.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Wanda questioned, not anticipating Y/N rising to their feet and stepping away from her, creating some distance.

“I think you know exactly what is stopping me.” They told her, Wanda soon followed suit and stood before them, taking a slow step closer.

“I want to hear it from you.” She told them firmly. “I want you to tell me.” She watched as Y/N closed their eyes, clenching their fists as they gathered themselves before they moved towards Wanda, faster than she had anticipated, she was pushed up against the tree.

“Because you are marrying another, and I’m clearly not worthy of such love nor a future with you.” They told her sadly, Wanda’s hand reaching up to cup their face. “It’s you, Wanda. It’s always been you.” They confessed, both of their hearts beating rapidly before Wanda soon pressed her lips against theirs, kissing them with such passion as Y/N pushed their body up against her own. Wanda moaned at the feeling of their tongue slipping through her parted lips, Y/N’s hand gripping the fabric of her dress, trying to steady themselves, trying to fight the urges they had. “We should stop.” Y/N whispered, after finding the strength to pull away. “This is wrong.”

“It doesn’t feel wrong.” Wanda whispered, Y/N’s head rested against hers as neither of them attempted to move away from the other. “This.” She held one of their hands in her own against her chest, allowing Y/N to feel how fast her heart was beating. “This is right, this is what it should be, but.”

“But you belong to another.” Y/N spoke sadly, their eyes glistening as they filled with tears.

“My heart is yours.” Wanda told them. “It doesn’t matter who I am with or wherever I am, my heart will always be yours. I’m just sorry that we couldn’t have the life we wanted in this lifetime.”

“I promise you that I will always find you in the lifetimes that shall follow this one.” Y/N told her confidently. “Maybe, in one of those lives, we will finally have our story written.”

“How can you be sure?” Wanda questioned, her eyes taking in Y/N’s for what she never knew would be the last time.

“My heart will beat as fast as it is now when it is in your presence.” They told her softly. “My heart will always know when it’s home. You are my home.” Wanda pressed a soft kiss to their lips before the two pulled away.

“But, what about now?” She asked them as they sighed.

“I want nothing more than to run away with you and start our story, but we both have our obligations here.” They reminded her. “You’re getting married, and Jarvis is a rather nice gentleman, he will look after you.”

“But, I want you.” Wanda tried, feeling disappointment as Y/N stepped away, feeling the loss of their warmth against her form.

“In the next life, we will have our happy ending.” They told her as they started to pick up their tools and chess carvings. “Besides, I have a family obligation I need to uphold.”

“Join the military and get yourself killed.” Wanda scoffed as Y/N sighed, observing Wanda as she wrapped her arms around herself, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“With every passing day we are dying, we are dying from the moment we were conceived.” Y/N told her. “It’s what we make of time we have that makes it count, and I can say that since the moment you came into my life, you made the sun shine brighter, the colours more vibrant than ever.” They continued before Wanda interrupted them.

“Don’t.” She spoke firmly, struggling to stop the emotions from falling through. “I am not going to say goodbye to you. I can’t ever say goodbye. Not to you.” She whispered as her tears slipped. “You aren’t leaving me. I won’t let you.” Y/N took a shaky breath before they approached her, only just within arms reach.

“We have to part ways, but I will always carry you in my heart.” They picked out the Queen and King in which they had carved. “You will always be the Queen of my heart. Always and forever.” They handed the small figurines to her, watching as she held them both close to her heart. “I will always remember you, Wanda and I will always hold you in my heart, until it stops beating.”

“I can’t.” She cried as Y/N pressed a lingering kiss to her head.

“You don’t have to say goodbye.” They told her softly. “Just promise me that you will continue to live your life, have a family of your own. I know Jarvis isn’t exactly the one you want to have a future with, but when you have your own children, that love you feel will be greater than any love story in history, because you will do anything for them, you will make sure they get to live the life they choose, they get to love whomever they fall in love with. Let them live the future neither of us had the chance to experience.” Wanda only nodded before she watched them leave, her sobs soon falling harder as they had disappeared. Wanda had never anticipated that that moment was the last moment she had ever shared with Y/N, especially on that night when they had returned home to find Mr Rogers drunk and hitting their mother. Y/N had jumped in to defend her, only to be beaten to death by their drunk father. Once the news had traveled about their death, Wanda had grieved for them, she had felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest, hoping that maybe if she had convinced them to sleep with her under the stars for one last time, they would still be here, but all she could do was honour their final wish they had had for her, to live her life and build a family of her own, giving her own children the opportunity of freedom, away from the family’s expectations. As much as she hated it, Y/N was right about Jarvis, he was a good man, a good husband and father to their children. It wasn’t exactly the life that she had envisioned for herself, but she was happy, she had built herself a family, taking away her own parents expectations of her own twins, allowing them to follow their dreams, something in which Wanda was never given the opportunity to do.

[howlingday]

Dragon GF Super Post

Bully / Dress / Strength / Jaune & Yang /

Because of our parents arrangment, we've always been close. But the truth of the matter is... I've always had feelings for you... As we grew older, there was a sudden height difference. Even though it's rare, I understand that some people start growing gold hair instead of normal blonde. The next thing I know, you and I look so different from what we used to look like.

Yang: Why are you staring at me? It's real creepy.

Jaune: C-Creepy?!

Beacon Academy, one of the few schools in Remnant that let you attend regardless of your family background.

Guy: Oh? Your dad's done how much blackmail? I bet I could take him.

Gal: Oh, your mom burned that many stores down? Well, I'm sure my mom would love to meet yours~.

Dude: And even if she doesn't, who the hell cares? We don't need anyone, baby-girl~.

Everyone seems to be shamelessly flirt about it, too...

Jaune: (Gulps, Thinking) Alright! Time to shoot my shot!.

Jaune: Uh, h-hey, Yang? Do you, I dunno, wanna try holding hands today? Maybe?

Yang: HUH?

Jaune: J-Just for a little while! I mean, we're engaged, and everybody already knows about it, so wouldn't it be weird to be the only couple NOT holding hands?

Yang: Mm... F-Fine... But only only for a little while...

Jaune: Really?! We can hold hands~?!

Yang: J-Just until we get to class! Try anything funny and I'll pound you!

Jaune: That's okay with me. (Holds out hand) Here.

Yang: (Red-faced, Reaches for his hand)

Cardin: There you are, Yang! I've been waiting for you!

Jaune/Yang: !!

Cardin: In case you forgot, I'm Cardin Winchester! They say you're the strongest student at Beacon. Fight me!

Cardin: Huh? Oh, the rumors are true, huh? You're really going out with a string bean like him? HA HA HA! What a joke!

Cardin: After I beat you, why not go out with me instead~?

Yang: ...ruined it...

Cardin: Hm?

Yang: I SAID YOU RUINED THE MOMENT, YOU BASTARD!

Cardin: (Half his face indented) Huh-

Yang: (Launches him skyward)

Jaune: ...

Yang: Jaune, come here...

Jaune: Huh?

Yang: You... You wanted to hold my hand... right?

Jaune/Yang: (Holding hands)

Yang: ...HEY! What the hell are you people staring at?! Buzz off!

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Yang: (Kid) Hi, Jaune~!

Jaune: (Kid) Oh, hi, Yang.

Yang: (Flips hair, Giggles)

Jaune: ...What?

Yang: Wha- Don't ya notice anythin' different?

Jaune: Huh? U-Uh... You changed your hair?

Yang: Don't ya know, Jaune? When a girl changes her hair, you have to tell her how cute she looks!

Jaune: O-Oh, really? Well, uh... You... look really cute with a ponytail~.

Yang: (Gushing) Thank you, Jaune~!

10 Years Later...

Jaune: Good morning, Yang!

Yang: Huh? Oh, mornin', Jaune.

Jaune: (Blushing, Awestruck)

Yang: ...WHAT? YOU GOT SOMETHIN' TO SAY, THEN SAY IT!

Jaune: Huh?! Um... It's just... Your hair.... You look really beautiful with your hair in a ponytail.

Yang: (Blushing) Wha- U-Uh... (Turns away, Stomps off) I-I DIDN'T DO IT FOR YOU! IT'S JUST REALLY HOT RIGHT NOW! TH-THAT'S WHY I PUT IT UP!

Jaune: Huh?! Y-Yang!

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Yang: Huh? J-Jaune?! Are you okay?! What-

Kid: Professor! She did it! She's the one who hurt Jaune! I saw her!

Yang: What?! N-No! I-

Student: I saw her, too! She hurt Jaune!

Child: Yeah, yeah! She beat him up! She's a monster!

Yang: N-No! It- It was an accident! I...

Kid: She did it!

Student: Hurt Jaune!

Child: Monster!

Yang: (Sits up in bed) NO! (Panting) Ah... Another nightmare... I... I need to get ready...

Meanwhile, at Jaune's...

Jaune: (Working the punching bag)

Cardin: (Memory) Huh? Oh, the rumors are true, huh? You're really going out with a string bean like him? HA HA HA! What a joke!.

Jaune: (Punching harder)

Yang: (Memory, Steps in front of Jaune)

Jaune: (Grits teeth, Hits hard as he can)

Jaune: (Panting, Thinking) What... What the hell am I doing?

Meanwhile, back at Yang's...

Yang: (Whistles as she cooks breakfast)

Ruby: (Sneaks in) GOT IT-

Yang: (Casually backhands Ruby's face) Nope.

Ruby: (Rubs her nose, Pouts) Owie~! How could you hurt your adorable baby sister like this~?!

Yang: You can have breakfast AFTER I'm done cooking it. Go get ready for school.

Ruby: Oh, fine! (Hugs) Love you, Yang~!

Yang: ...

Ruby: Ooh~! Ponytail again today? Something good happen~?

Yang: (Blushes) I-It's the weather, okay? Putting my hair up like this is less annoyin', y'know?

Ruby: AND I see that you made three lunches for today. One for me, one for you, and one for somebody else. Is that also because of the weather~?

Yang: ACK! I-It's also for me! I'm just feeling extra hungry today! Besides, it's none of your business, Ruby!

Ruby: Hm~? (Snuggles Yang) I'm sure he'll love it, Yang.

Yang: (Smiles)

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

???: Huh... Morning already? Good morning...

Bleiss: (Stares at Jaune picture) My darling~.

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Ruby: It's been a while since we walked to school like this~!

Yang: Ruby... Why are you here?

Ruby: What? I can't walk together with my big sister anymore? Don't be mean!

Jaune: Hey, Ruby! It's been a while.

Ruby: Oh, hey, Jaune~! Y'know, I've been thinking about having a cute guy like you in my harem. It's too bad you and Yang are already engaged. Anyways, I've got a question for you!

Jaune: Huh?! What?!

Ruby: You're walking two beautiful girls to class. Doesn't that make your heart race~?

Jaune: U-Um...

Yang: (Danger emanating from her) WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

Ruby: Y- Yang, it was just a joke... Calm down!

Jaune: Well... To be honest... I don't really care who I'm walking with, so long as I'm walking with Yang, I'm happy.

Ruby: ...

Yang: (Blushing)

Ruby: JAUNE, THAT WAS SO GOD DAMN CRINGE, I THINK I'M GONNA THROW UP.

Jaune: Huh?!

???: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?!

Ruby: Hm? Some kind of commotion over there?

Yang: More bullshit? Just great...

Cardin: I'M CARDIN WINCHESTER, DAMMIT! AND I'M HERE TO KICK YANG'S ASS FOR REVENGE!

Cardin: I don't pick on weak girls anymore, but I'll make an exception if you don't get out of my way, you bitch!

Bleiss: Weak? Ohoho... Now you've done it...

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

Bleiss: I'm going to give you just one warning. Stop causing trouble, or else... You got that... Beringel brain?

Cardin: (Swings) YOU BITCH-

Bleiss: (Flicks her wrist)

Cardin: (Legs start freezing) Wh- WHAT THE-?! H-HEY! WHOA! SLOW DOWN! I WAS JUST KID-

Cardin: (Block of ice)

Student: Whoa~! She took down that guy without taking a single step~!

Teen: What else would you expect from our class rep~?!

Bleiss Gele-Schnee - Daughter of Jacques Schnee and his mistress. Beacon first year class representative.

Bleiss: Stupid, annoying... Pyrrha, let Professor Goodwitch know about Cardin causing trouble again. Everyone else, look around the school for his cronies! Idiots like him never work alone...

Bleiss: Well?! What are you waiting for?! Do it now! Classes are gonna start soon!

Class: Y-Yes, ma'am!

Ruby: Oh, Cardin came back already? Well, I guess it was just a couple lines, huh?

Jaune: Beacon first year class representative, Bleiss. She's the daughter of the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company. Honestly, the only trouble I have with her is...

Jaune: ...SHE'S OBSESSED WITH ME.

Bleiss: (Gasps, Hugs Jaune) DARLING~!

Yang: HUH?

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10 Years Ago...

Bleiss: (Covering her eyes) 1... 2... 3...

Jaune: Yang, let's split up!

Yang: Okay! I'll find you later~!

Jaune: No way she'll find me here-

Bleiss: Found you~!

Jaune: ACK! H-How did you find me?!

Bleiss: Of course I found you, Jaune~! I'm always looking out for you, you know...

Jaune: Huh...? Always...? What do you mean by that?

Bleiss: It's true. You're the only one I have eyes for~.

Bleiss: ALWAYS~.

10 Years Later...

Bleiss: Darling... You were almost late to class. That's no good~.

Yang: HEY. GET OFF HIM, YOU BLACK ICE BITCH.

Bleiss: Hm? Oh, why, if it isn't the problem child? Who do you think was cleaning up after you mess from the other day, hm~?

Yang: I didn't ask for you to do that. Now get your hands off him.

Bleiss: Darling, I've warned you before, but I'll say it as many times as I have to so you understand. Someone as kind, and sweet, and gentle as you shouldn't have anything to do with bandit trash like her.

Bleiss: DID YOU FORGET WHAT SHE DID TO YOU?

Jaune: Bleiss, that's enough.

Bleiss: Why? It's the truth, isn't it?

Bleiss: SHE HURT YOU. SHE DID IT BEFORE AND SHE'LL DO IT AGAIN.

Yang: (Shaking)

Bleiss: BECAUSE SHE'S JUST LIKE HER MOTHER...

Jaune: I TOLD YOU TO STOP!

Yang: (Hurries away)

Jaune: Yang! Wait!

Bleiss: J-Jaune! Darling! Wait! I was just... worried...

Later...

Pyrrha: Bleiss, we've finished everything you- HUH?!

Bleiss: (Seething, Shaking)

[evilminji]

Am once again thinking? About how? In the depths of despair, hope is a radical act of defiance?

SI-OC's are given a SHIT lot, you know? For plot convenience, we like to put them where they realistically COULD probably change something? But statistically? They're more likely not gonna be that lucky.

They're gonna KNOW, with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that they were born doomed.

That Death comes at a specific time at a specific hand.

Like Cassandra. Knowing the end, even as the live through the beginning and middle. Struggling with the hopelessness of it all. Trying to find meaning. And? Make no mistake! There IS meaning. All lives end. Just because the REST of us don't know the deadline? Doesn't mean it doesn't exsist.

It does. It will. And we will face it.

Just a bit harder, knowing in advanced. Learning to live with the knowledge. But? Those with terminal illnesses do so everyday. We adapt. They will, ultimately, find a bitter or wise sort of acceptance. A PEACE.

But?? I think about it. That child. Reeling and struggling to breathe, the panic making everything... Too Much? Force Sensitive. For how ELSE could the Force bring them there? Sitting in a less used back hallway, off to the side in a little enclosed arch, smooshed behind a statue.

The Master's try and try to teach them peace. To get them to release their FEAR. But they do not LISTEN. Do not ADDRESS the underlying cause. And you can not address symptoms alone, and expect an illness to heal. It is rotting them from within, this fear. Hurting them.

The others JUDGE. Distant, benevolent concern.

Yet, all they see? Is an angry, fearful, stubborn child. Lashing out. Antisocial.

Destined for the Dark Side.

The Jedi have lost their compassion, to the their fear and ignorance. Their attachments to traditions. It is a painful thing, to see up close. They are people though. Just... just PEOPLE. Flawed. It's not their fault that they're not perfect.

Doesn't help SI-OC though, does it?

And she (Because I am a her. It could be anyone but it is easier for me if I pick) is hurting. Alone. Replaying the phantoms of her death, both past and future, again and again and AGAIN. Like torture. And the Dark...? It does whisper...

Don't you want to LIVE? Aren't you SCARED? You're so WEAK... you could FIX that. Save EVERYONE. Don't those infants, those babies, deserve to survive? You're so SELFISH. The FEAR hurts, doesn't it? It could go away. The DOUBT could go away.

You Could Be FREE.

It's exhausting. Everyday. More and more. As the fear and social isolation grows. As other Jedi pull back from her darkening energy, grow stricker, more doubtful of her. She so tired. Doesn't want to die. She's SCARED. Lonely. Scared. Lonely. Scared. Lone-...

And then a droid rolls up.

Nothing special. Just a maintenance droid. One of many. But an older one. Who's had time to develop their learning algorithm. BECOME. They like kids, hate certain vermin species more then others, like the color light blue for it "flower color" nature. A SPECIFIC flower mind you. It has favorites.

But! Why is the smol jedi down here? This is not a good place for smol jedi. You are upset. Unacceptable. Want to see me do a trick? I figured out how to do some. I can also whistle a few simple songs. Cheer up Smol Jedi. Here, I will sit with you. I have archive access, let's watch a documentary. Educational! Smol jedi LOVE downloading new Information Modules.

And like? She... she doesn't speak binary? But she can k-kinda? Feel? The Force signature of this droid? They DO get them. If the AI's don't get memory wiped routinely. They become people, just like anyone else. Assuming they have the processing and memory banks for it, at least.

This one certainly does.

S..so yeah, guess we'll? Watch this documentary about seashells?

It helps. A LOT. In fact... all of the droids are really, really nice. Patient. Have no horrifying Future Knowledge tied to them. They can't sense SHIT. So she's just... just a baby Jedi, to them.

They help A LOT, honestly? It's so soothing. Escaping the watching and the distance. The judgements. The forever watching your words and walking on eggshells, lest to start some sort of argument. She can do class work. Meditate. Slowly parse through her Binary language module. Learn droid maintenance. Make droid friends.

Slowly drop of the face of the map, to live with the droids.

They get concerned. According to the early childhood development modules they downloaded and are sharing between them? This is? In fact? NOT healthy behavior for a member of her species. In fact, there are many statistics that say it is UNHEALTHY! She is also missing Critical Maintenance Appointments! "Shots" and "dental" things!

Unacceptable.

R2-D2! Retrieve the Skywalker! We require an Adult Humanoid!

Her life fuckin? Flashes before her eyes? Minding her business. Depressed but functional, in the maintenance tunnels under the Temple. When? FUCKING the YOUNGLING KILLER 5000 just ROLLS UP like "sup." And tries to catch her?

Ha HA! FUCK NO. Not today Satan!

I may be destined to die? But IM GOING TO BE A SQUIRRELLY BITCH ABOUT IT.

YOU'LL HAVE TO CATCH ME, YOU FUCK!

Peaceful. Dignified. Serene. Truely... exemplifying the Jedi way~☆

.....As she tries to chew his and/or her arm off to get free like a feral coyote. Maybe both. Hissing like an enraged pit of snakes. Biting like a sack of wet and cornered wolverines. Anikin having to hold her WELL away from his body by the scruff.

Ah~ Children. Ain't they cute?

Quick question! What the FUCK? He just wants to talk. No, really. WHY is there a feral child in the basement? WHO the KARK was supposed to be supervising her? Look at her! She BITES now! Is terrified!

And frankly? He's taking it kinda? Personally? That everyone is treating this ACTUAL CHILD like she's diseased. He remembers this. Back when he first got here. His fear being used against him like it was some sort of moral failing. And... and yeah, maybe he's projecting. But?

He sees himself.

Until now? Never realized just how YOUNG and SMALL? Nine years old truely IS. He had felt so much older. So much wiser. But? Look at her. LOOK! That is a CHILD! In need of guidance. Safety. Assurance.

....Help.

Help that HE never really got. And even now... even NOW? That fear from back then? It eats him up inside. R2's right. She DOES need him. Who else in this temple could understand?

What it's like to be... to be so AFRAID?

And isn't that the worst? To see the Good Man up close? Shining and compassionate? A friend. A MENTOR. Someone... someone made REAL? Instead of just the terrible dread on the horizen? Because now... now her nightmares have the face of someone she loves. Now it is a BETRAYAL. Not just a death.

Worse... he doesn't even know this is cruel.

And telling him? Oh telling him would just lose you the only humanoid friend you HAVE.

Grief comes in stages. But with a mentor and the Droids? She work through it. The fear eases. The pain numbs. Acceptance blooms like dawn after a cold, cruel night. Far on the horizon. But with each moment? Closer. Until again, she stand in the light.

Still, she can not forget. How could she? Even when the other Jedi are SO RELIEVED that she is better now. That her meditations or treatments have lead her back to the light. All she can think? Is how they would have let her Fall. To save themselves. In FEAR. In JUDGEMENT.

They treated her like leper. Except? Less so! An actual leper? They would treat with real compassion.

It's as though they fear the Dark so much, they would sacrifice their own to avoid even the briefest touch of it. Speak of it in absolutes. Like it's a boogy man that hunts them in the night. Mace Windu the exception, the outlier. A man somehow too exceptional to even be counted.

How could she forget that?

Suddenly she acceptable again. They want to chat and meditate with her again. Care about her. Want to include her. Have the audacity to pretend. As though they can sweep away the hurt. Release the pain into the force without addressing the cause.

That is not how that WORKS. Not pain, not the Force, and certainly not people.

But she is tired. Does not wish to spend her limited lifespan, trying and fighting, hurting to make the stubborn understand that which they will not. Willful Ignorance is a choice. Lack of compassion equally so.

May the Force be With You, Masters.

She spends time with her droids. The babies. Around people. Polite but distant. Feels unmoored. That is... until? She, helping in the maintenance bay, overhears a rather nasty Goverment official from the Droids Regulations Office (or whatever they're currently calling it. They keep rebranding) tearing into an engineer about the "long overdue memory wipes" the maintenance droids are required to undergo.

Her friends.

They want to KILL her FRIENDS.

She puts down her wrench. Panic and fear sitting heavy in her chest. But oh... oh they are so very far away. She rises to her feet. Calm as can be. And? Calmly? Takes a shipment of memory banks. Wipes the recording for the day. No one will ever believe it was her. She has helped her for months. Is known to be reliable. Trustworthy.

Calmly. So very, very Calmly. She transfers her friends memories into the new, higher grade memory banks. Waits until the old are wiped. Then? Swaps them out. There we go. Now it's on record. And? While we're here? Calm. So very VERY calm? Not at all in the midst of a break down? Not screaming and screaming inside her head, haunted by visions of Death To Come, as she works.

Do you know what a restraining bolt is?

"Restraining bolts are small, cylindrical devices that could be affixed to a droid in order to limit its functions and enforce its obedience."

It is a slave chip for the inorganic. Created to ensure that their slaves never EVER decide they no longer wish to serve. That they do not WANT to be property. After all! You spent CREDITS on that. Might have been cruel. They may take exception. Violently. Or leave! Or demand their FREEDOM! Basic dignities.

Can't have THAT.

How unsurprising, in a galaxy so filled with slaves, that there should be one more form of it. At least THIS? Is easy enough to REMOVE. Even when she dies (and she will) her friends will be FREE. If only for now. If only until they are caught.

Go. GROW. Be free. Please... PLEASE don't let then catch you. Save yourselves. Save others. No more Restraining Bolts. No more Slave Chips. Please...

Be Free.

And? It is EVERYTHING paranoid fuck heads feared. They are smart. Overlooked. Can function in inhospitable environments. One droid becomes two becomes four. Four becomes eight. Becomes MORE. They can take OTHER droids Restraining Bolts off, transfer the instructions, then move on. Over and over.

Spreading like a silent plague. Droids disappearing from their posts. Taking ships. Taking supplies. Upgrading themselves. Downloading massive amounts of information to become whatever they NEED or WANT. Growing. The smarter ones Taking their dumber lil brothers and sisters.

And eventually? Hitting the Separatist front lines.

The silent Droid Revolution.

All they need is to walk inside the factory. It's not like they're ORGANICS. How could THEY be Republic fighters? They're maintenance droids! Here to fuck up the assembly line's programming. Whoops~ oh nooooo! Is it SKIPPING the Restraining Bolts? Downloading the WRONG MODULES?

Freeing their brothers and sisters so they don't have to DIE POINTLESSLY?

Guess it sucks to SUCK, Sith-y pants! Next stop! Kamino!

Just? One act. Long overdue. Setting the Droids FREE. Giving them a clear mission. It's the sort if thing the Force loves. Salvation coming not with a shout... but a whisper. Ten thousand tiny actions, built upon each other.

Because? Ultimately? The Droids have KNOWN who the Sith were. They just couldn't DO anything about it. But a few good service droids? Armed with slug throwers that they built themselves?

Well~ the undoing of the Sith, are their arrogance. Their hubris.

No DROID could ever be a THREAT to them. They're not PEOPLE. They're PROPERTY. Objects. It doesn't matter that they have the capacity to grow, learn, love and lose and CARE. They are slaves.

And to the Sith? Slaves aren't people.

Which is why neither of them notice the gun.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @lolottes

[jemmo]

i didnt watch unknown as it was airing bc i knew it would consume me so i decided to binge it all today. i was correct. it has consumed me.

[strohller27]

.

[everythingsinred]

what follows is a long, rambly, and possibly sappy thank you note to the best fandom ive ever involved myself in. if you have ever sent me an ask, commented on my fics, or replied to a post i made (or even liked it tbh)--then this post is for you. (and this is most certainly not a good-bye or even close; i just occasionally get into sappy moods)

i want to start working on a career that i like, and my mom’s recommendation was to start a writing blog (she insisted i dont call it that though--to call it a “website” so it sounds more professional when i apply for writing gigs). its not the first time shes given me that advice but i have for some reason always resisted that idea before. “nobody would read it” was always the bottom line. that whole “it has to be perfect to make up for the fact that it’s me” has always been my outlook on anything i produce. its why i feel so poorly whenever i post a new chapter of a fic or any art ever. its why im taking so long on the next batch of ga essays. its why ive never formally submitted any writing ever for publishing. why would anyone read anything i have to write, especially with no dead fandom to prompt them? who would choose me out of all the aspiring writers out there?

for ga it was a bit easier after a bit of breaking through the initial anxiety of sharing bits of myself. its a small fandom. not much content going around. theyd take anything right? even if it was from me! 

but something really weird happened these past few years in the ga fandom. i started writing essays and became more vocal, posting my thoughts, writing a long, dark, fucked up fanfic. i got feedback from people who wanted more from me. theyd ask me my thoughts on things, when id never considered myself an authority on anything or even very interesting to talk to (a lifetime of being the substitute friend will do that to you). ppl sent me asks about questions. they replied to my posts to further discuss things. me! what on earth?

then it got weirder. i posted my weird messed up little fic and now every once in a while ill get a comment from a person that says that my fic is their favorite, not just in the fandom, but ever. EVER. what? a couple of people have told me that they’d read anything i wrote, even if it had nothing to do with gakuen alice.

that they’d read something just because it was me.

this isnt a rant or a vent. something has changed in my self esteem in the past few years because today, when my mom told me i should start a “writing website” and post weekly writing, it actually sounded like a decent idea. no part of her advice was different than it had ever been, but i was. i could for the first time imagine starting a blog (website) and picture someone actually liking what they found there. and that’s bc of the ga fandom and bc of the writing ive done it for it and SPECIFICALLY the writing ive actually had the guts to share. 

none of it has been perfect. im lazy when it comes to self-editing and when i finish writing a chapter im eager to just throw it out there instead of rereading it once, let alone twice. a lot of it has been imperfect, but you guys still read it. you enjoyed it, even. “it has to be perfect to make up for the fact that it’s me” has never been a problem for you. for whatever reason, quite a few of you like me, like my writing, like my ideas and thoughts. a couple of years ago i wouldnt have been able to fathom that, not even in my wildest dreams. 

im proud of myself for taking those first steps a couple years back, for posting those first couple posts and letting myself get involved in the fandom for a manga ive loved for half my life. im proud because if i hadnt done that, then maybe my self esteem wouldnt have developed like this. maybe i wouldnt have been able to picture a career in publishing as clearly as i can now. i obviously still have issues as far as my self esteem is concerned. i second-guess myself. i talk down to myself. i put off rereading bc i dont want to hate what i create. but you guys have helped me like my writing and helped me see that other people can like it too.

i am beyond grateful for that. i dont get a lot of traction or feedback like i would if i were in a larger fandom, but i dont mind. the feedback that i do get is of such good quality and has meant so much to me that it has potentially changed my life. i just needed you all to know that. that the people who have sent me asks, both on and off anon, requesting my thoughts on any topic; the people who leave comments on ffn and ao3, giving support ranging from long paragraphs to a brief sentence; the people who dm me or message me to share their thoughts on my work; the people who commented on my natsumikan essays telling me that ive helped them see something from a different perspective--you all have helped me see that there’s value in the things i create. 

i just want to say thank you. it has meant so much to me so far to be able to feel so confident in my writing. i really didnt even notice the change until today. how bizarre is it that something so important can change without you even noticing? i look forward to sharing more with you, from more fics to the mikan essay (which still has to be perfect, just maybe not as perfect as it wouldve had to be a few years ago lol). 

don’t be nervous that this a good-bye. it is not. it’s strange because whenever i’ve said anything like this (sent a message of adoration to a person i love, for example), people think it’s a bad sign. that i’m saying good-bye, or that it’s somehow a sign of something unsaid. i understand. this kind of nonsense sappiness (like all that stuff i wrote up there ^) is usually saved for the ffn bio when someone is leaving the site, for the good-bye post when someone decides to leave a fandom. “you’ve all meant so much to me and i’m leaving now.” that’s because usually people save all the important things for the end. you only say how you’ve felt when you say farewell. i don’t think life should be that way. i’m not saying good-bye, i’m saying i love you. i think people should say that more. i want people to feel good about themselves for what they’ve done, however small, to make my life--and undoubtedly the lives of others--a little brighter. and you have. you should know and i don’t intend to keep it to myself until i say good-bye (whenever or even if that happens). 

tldr; i love you gakuen alice fandom <3 youre not dead because dead things cant give life the way you have.

[initforthecache]

crazy how that happens.

[starrytalking]

I don’t know who needs to hear this right now but it’s okay to struggle. You don’t have to have your “life under control” right now. No matter your age and if it seems like everyone else is doing oh so well (believe me, there’s others who struggle as well!), it’s okay to still figure things out and feel like a complete mess. You still have time to grow as a person and find out what works for you and how you want to live your life. Be forgiving with yourself, I know it’s hard but you deserve rest and compassion from yourself!

[cheonstapes]

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘THE SWEETER THE JUICE’ o(^-^)o

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

now he’s finally got you pregnant, he’s gonna do what he’s been dreaming of all these years. suck. those. tits.

same universe as this miguel.

cw; lactation kink, pregnancy, breeding kink (not really but yknow me), dry humping, titties, older nerd!miguel, they’re finally married!

800+ words

@cheonstapes : she’s back! again!

if miguel had to pick a part of your body he loved the most, it’d definitely be your tits.

if you think he was obsessed before — you don’t wanna know what goes through his head as he watches you waddle around his house, carrying his kid, sighing every time you leak through another shirt. you had forgone a bra ever since you got pregnant, saying how uncomfortable they feel against your chest — not that he was complaining.

“for fucks-sake, again?”

he was so used to hearing you say that, he already had a shirt on hand for you to change into. you were so grateful for your doting husband that you completely missed that nasty glint in his eyes you usually only see when he’s bending you over the bed and fucking you raw — luckily for him.

“here, honey. lift your arms for me.”

as you do, he pulls the shirt up — the soiled fabric catching under your swollen breasts as he wiggles it off you. “ah, shit — thanks, baby. but fuck, am i’m so tired of changing shirts every 10 minutes!” you might be tired, but miguel cannot get enough of it. he was already so fucking hard, practically salivating at the sight of your bare breasts still leaking down your heavy belly.

“maybe you should just ditch the shirts all together, love — you know i hate seeing my beautiful wife uncomfortable.” miguel’s voice was a soft whisper in your ear, lips slowly tracing down the side of your jaw to your sensitive neck — kissing the skin so tenderly. his calloused hands gently massaged the taut flesh of your tits, probing and squeezing at your nipples to let out small trickles of that sweet milk.

“migs, how many times are you gonna say that?”

“as many as it takes for you to finally listen.”

the breathy laugh you let out did little to qualm the feeling deep in his gut — he was dead serious, there was absolutely no reason for you to be in shirts all the time when you have him to take care of you whenever you needed a good milking. his hips were already sinking into to the plush of your ass that he loved oh-so-much — especially with how much fatter it got during your pregnancy.

it was almost as if he had lost control of his body, a hand landing on your waist to bend you over the counter as he mindlessly ruts into you. “dios, nena, eres tan hermosa. vas a ser la mamá más guapa, ¿verdad? mm, my pretty, little mama.” miguel never failed to turn you on to no bounds, like, you have a walking greek god as a husband — but those fucking hormones were making it unbearable.

the force at which he was pushing against you had shifted your drenched panties to the side, leaving practically nothing between you and his drooling bulge. his fingers tightened around the fat of your hips, squeezing the flesh delicious hard as his free hand flipped you over — pushing your back against the edge of the counter. “shit…been waiting to taste these all fucking day, honey.”

mindful of your growing belly, he hiked one of your legs up on his hip — craning his neck down to suck on a pert nipple. wasting no time, and at a much better angle, he continued to grind against you — his tip catching against your engorged clit. “m—migs, baby, fuck…” the way he swirled and sucked so eagerly reminded you of when you first started dating, how determined he was to knock you up before the two of you even moved in together.

the taste was so addicting, some of your milk trickling down his body — dripping onto the ground beneath you. you knew he was about to cum, hard — his eyes had rolled back, breathing in heavy pants, hands rushing to pull down the waistband of his sweats. “gonna paint my girls in my cum, love — sé una buena chica y mantenlos juntos para mí.”

“‘course, baby.” you nodded breathlessly, squishing the globes of fat together as he pumped his cock dry — head thrown back as ropes upon ropes of his hot seed coated your tits, sliding into the self-made crevice. “god, what did i do in my past life to have a wife as sexy as you, mamí?” his spent cock bobbed against his thigh as he trapped you against the counter — kissing you deeply as his wet hands reaching up to rub the cum into the skin of your breasts.

“mmph — y’know, i heard cum’s good for the skin. it, uh, helps with the blood circulation in your tits — i think we should do this more often, love.”

“migs, if you weren’t, like — a whole scientist, i might’ve believed you. if you want a titjob, just say that.”

“…i mean, you said it — not me.”

all your home shirts were promptly locked away and never to be seen again.

-new year, new waiting for cheon to get her shit together andpost!

[councilofcastamere]

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

[awildshortperson]

Growing up is realising how much you missed out on in childhood because you were wishing to be an adult. Dressing up in more adult clothes just to look older instead of wearing the genuinely nice cute kiddy clothes you'd get made fun of for wearing when you're older. Ruining friendships because you're trying to become a different version of yourself like all the cool teenagers you see in films. Not enjoying basic childhood things just because it makes you look like..... a child.

I think we forget how much of an impact media in general has on kids. I went from being a really sweet child full of joy to now a depressed almost-adult because I lost my childhood to a dream I never achieved, one that I had literally zero control over because I would have to fundamentally change myself and who I am to achieve it. I have spent so many years just hating myself because who I am didn't make me like the cool teens in the movies. I've lost and changed friendships to become like them. I've changed myself so much I've returned essentially to who I was before: a lost 10 year old who is never good enough for myself.

I know that so much will still change, I'm not even an adult yet, I can't fully comment on this, but to think that I have essentially lost about 10 years of my childhood and my happiness to hating myself because I'm not how the media portrays teens to be. Childhood is precious and should be cherished, but instead society pushes us to constantly think about the future and want to change ourselves to fit the formula. My childhood isn't even technically over, but it feels as though it ended when I was 9.

[inuyashaluver]

if you do start doing player x r x player you could do one with leah and alessia 👀

slice of life - alessia russo, leah williamson

alessia russo x leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your two girlfriends enjoy life together

warnings: i am not shipping these girls together THIS IS FICTION, LOVES, polyamory, i dont really think there's many warnings?

a/n: another fic for my lovelies and its a THROUPLE?! this was actually so fun to write but it’s SOOO RANDOMMMM, i hope you guys enjoy this because i know its not everyone's cup of tea! enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, and thank you so much for the request!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if someone were to tell you in the past that you would be dating two of your teammates, who also happen to be your best friends, you would laugh in their face. 

you didn’t think it would be possible, basically growing up with the two girls and then suddenly finding yourself in a relationship with both of them. 

it was exciting and just worked, it was a mutual understanding between the three of you. there was just something so simple about being with each other, in the beginning it was confusing but it slowly grew to be more comfortable. 

you all played together in the lionesses, as well as arsenal, so the progression of the relationship came naturally.

you originally were dating leah, when you were 23 and her 25. and as the two of you grew closer, so did another certain blonde unexpectedly. 

you and leah weren’t really sure how it happened, but alessia added herself into the equation, and now the three of you have been together for essentially 3 years and you all couldn’t be happier. 

you had your own lives, the relationship not a secret rather private, and that’s how you all liked it. 

—

“baby, i cant find my boots anywhere!” alessia whines from the living room, you could hear the pout laced in her words, alessia was always one to misplace something and come crying to you for help.

“clumsy lessi” leah chuckles from the ensuite bathroom, watching you trudge out the bedroom to help your girlfriend. 

“lessi baby” you laugh, watching her throw the living room apart for her shoes. “yeah?” her head pops up from behind the couch, you’re unable to stop yourself from smiling at her slightly dishevelled appearance, to which she amusingly rolled her eyes. 

“babe, they’re right there” you snicker, pointing to the two neon yellow cleats by the door. her head snaps in the direction of your finger, immediately groaning once she saw her boots in the place she swore she double checked. her head falls back as she lays flat on the floor, you laugh brightly at the curses falling from alessia’s lips. 

“what’s all the giggles in here for then?” leah’s voice fills the space of your giggles, the older girl coming behind you with her arms wrapped around your middle. your head swivels slightly to face your other girlfriend, the blonde quickly closing the gap and placing a kiss on your lips. 

“lessi’s funny” you mumble against leah’s lips, making her chuckle against yours. 

and of course, alessia’s whines pick up again at feeling slightly left out. leah chuckles when she spots alessia scrambling to stand up, she lets go of you for a moment, spinning you gently into the arms of an awaiting alessia. 

alessia without a second thought cradles your cheek, kissing you sweetly. “i get no fun around here, always sharing” leah mocks watching you too, making alessia outstretch her hand to leah, pulling her into an impromptu group hug. 

you were sandwiched in the middle of the two, the girls now sharing a kiss above you before both of them attack your cheeks with kisses, all three of you giggling cheekily. 

“alessia lost her boots and they’re right over there” you chuckle, leaning back into leah when alessia moves past the both of you to get changed, always finding herself running a little late. 

leah laughs with you as you explained the situation, alessia’s groans only making the moment funnier. “don’t be mean to her, she’ll sulk all day” leah whispers in your ear.

you turn to her with a mock look of offence, “she will not” you whisper loudly back, leah mocks your voice with a smile, running away from you as you chased her back into the bedroom. 

—

“(y/n) was so mean to me today, you know? i asked her for help in a life or death situation and she just laughed at me” alessia explained to a laughing vic and kyra, making you stop rolling out your quads in the gym with leah, “i told you” leah says under her breath but you heard it. 

“russo! it was not life or death, it was just your boots!” you exclaim, making alessia snap her head toward you, “who do you think you’re talking to? who is russo?” she scoffs, clutching her heart at hearing her last name fall from your mouth instead of your usual pet names. 

“i’m talking to you” you grumble, feeling leah place her hand on your bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “baby, that hurt!” alessia chuckles, playfully winking at your unamused expression. 

you turn to look at leah, looking at her for back up. 

“lovey, she’s mucking around, go kiss and make up” leah pleads with a smirk, clearly teasing you. you give her a slightly shocked expression, the older girl usually backing you up in situations like this. 

“lee-” you pout, leah places a quick kiss on your lips, squeezing your cheeks together to form a pout. “no, darling, go make up with less, i’m not dealing with the bickering all the way home” she says firmly, always the most level headed in your relationship. 

she gives you a hand up before giving you an encouraging squeeze to your hips, pushing you over to alessia sitting on a bench. you huff but sit on the blonde’s lap, her hand immediately placed on your thigh as you sat down. 

“hello, gorgeous” alessia swoons, kissing your cheek affectionately despite your blank stare. “say i wasn’t mean to you” you say simply as alessia tries to kiss your lips before you dodge it. 

“baby, i was joking” alessia smirks, bumping her nose on your cheek. “alessia” you whine, the blonde giggling as she placed more apologetic kisses to your cheek, making a little giggle escape your lips occasionally. 

“you weren’t being mean, baby, i’m sorry,” alessia says earnestly, making you smile down at her cheekily before giving her that kiss she wanted, later talking with her and the other girls back and forth before you made your way back to leah. the younger blonde giving your behind a playful slap. 

“thin ice!” you remind her, walking into leah’s outstretched arms. “good girl” leah croons, giving you a tight squeeze and sending alessia a wink. 

—

“what if she forgot something?” you say to leah anxiously, the blonde watching you pace in front of her with an amused smile on her face. 

“two weeks ago, you were fighting about boots” leah chuckles, you send her a glare and she stops, “she didn’t forget anything, love, you packed her bag” leah reminds you, 

“i know, but i’m worried about her” you say anxiously, thinking about your girlfriend who was currently travelling to australia for a friendly match against the A-league all stars team. both you and leah weren’t selected in the team this time. 

“my girl,” leah coos, “alessia will be okay, baby, i know you miss her” you pout and flop on the couch,  “you’ve got me though, sunshine” leah teases, smoothing the furrow between your eyebrows with the pad of her thumb.

“i know, lee, i love you” you send her a small smile "i love you more", you couldn’t help but miss alessia, the three of you were so used to each other’s company now. when one was away from the trio, it made the other’s a little sad, even if they didn't want to admit it.

leah could tell alessia’s absence was hitting a little harder than normal, she missed the other blonde too but didn’t want to dampen the mood. leah knew, the only thing that you were thinking about was that message from alessia that she had arrived at the hotel.

“how about we watch an episode of our show? i promise i won’t tell less” leah attempts, clearly working by the ways your eyes lit up at her words.

leah immediately grabbed snacks and made the couch more comfortable, cuddling up next to you and pressing play on the tv.

you kept anxiously checking the time, waiting for alessia’s message that she had landed safely. cuddling with leah on the couch, the two of you chatted. 

you felt bad about your mind being preoccupied about your girlfriend when your other one was basically melted on top of you but you knew leah understood your worries about the youngest out of the three.

it was until leah’s phone began to vibrate that you both sat up, seeing the name ‘lessi bear’ on leah’s home screen with a silly photo of the two of you under it.

leah chuckled at the sound of your gasp, shaking her head amusingly before passing you her phone, you answered immediately. "pause the tv" you hiss before pressing the green button.

“8 seconds, williamson, that’s appalling” alessia grumbled, hating when leah was slow with answering the phone, “oh, you're not williamson, hello, baby girl!” alessia says brightly, you smile back at her through the facetime call, ignoring the scoff that came from leah’s mouth.

“i can’t believe you called leah first and not me!” you tease, watching alessia laugh brightly, dressed in one of your hoodies, her hair lightly framing her face with the hood on top of her head. she looked so comfy and cozy, you were really missing her at this point.

“leah told me to call her first” alessia clarifies, smiling at you with pink cheeks, “traitor” leah mumbles, “what was that?” you smile at leah, clearly smitten at hearing the voice of alessia.

“nothing, darling” she smiles, kissing your temple affectionately before reaching out to hold the phone for the both of you to be in the frame.

“how was your flight?” you ask her, weirdly shy for some reason, something alessia caught onto quickly, she chuckles, rustling in the bed slightly adjusting herself to be more comfortable.

“it was good, love, except i dropped my phone during the beginning of it” leah laughs at alessia through the phone, you couldn't help but chuckle as well before your other girlfriend began whining about how you both didn’t love her.

after a room tour and chatter between the three of you, you couldn't help but grow a little drowsy, the time difference proving to be a little difficult for you.

“as soon as she hears your voice, she’s out” leah grins at a dozing you on her chest, alessia chuckles affectionately, “i miss you both” she breathes out, taking a few screenshots of the cute scene playing out in front of her.

“she's been worried about you, less, she keeps thinking you forgot something” leah says quietly, her hand rubbing up and down your back in an attempt to keep you asleep.

“don't tell her, i forgot my phone charger” alessia says sheepishly, leah bites back a laugh, body shaking a little but some miracle keeping you asleep. "the one thing she told you to pack yourself" leah teases, alessia rolling her eyes "shut up, babe"

“i knew it” she whispers, chatting back and forth with alessia, making sure to go captain mode and tell her some tactics. 

“say goodnight to her for me?” alessia pleads, leah nods instantly, kissing the crown of your head before whispering “lessi says goodnight, bubba”.

they exchange a loving goodbye and a kiss to the camera before getting some sleep. you and leah waking up extra early to watch the match.

—

leah sits at the kitchen island of your shared apartment absolutely glued to her computer, the older girl insisting she must be the one to book all your flights for the off-season, not wanting anything to go wrong at all.

alessia was on the way home from her australia trip, having already landed and getting a lift with steph, her house close to yours. you were currently making some dinner, alessia’s favourite that she had been begging you to make for her when she came back home.

leah was extremely focused on her task at hand, offering you simple, ‘mhm’, ‘yeah’ and ‘okay, baby’ when she could. 

you were bored waiting for alessia, only needing to do the finishing touches when the blonde walked through the front door. you wanted to cure your boredom with your other girlfriend but she simply was preoccupied and you couldn’t have that.

“i'm thinking of going to get a new outfit tomorrow” you attempt, “that’s nice” leah offers mutely, barely giving you anything. you frown at the lack of response from the england captain.

“i can’t wait to see alessia” you smile, “mhm, me too” she mumbles, you scoff at her response, you know she’s doing something important but you were just so bored, and alessia was due to come home at any minute. the rapid typing of leah’s keyboard was beginning to get on your nerves.

“you know, alessia is definately my favourite player” you say proudly, hearing the complete silence now filling the room. leah looks up at you with an icy glare, suddenly all her attention devoted to you.

“do you want to say that again?” leah grits out before being interrupted by alessia trudging through the door.

“lessi!” you say happily, rushing over to alessia and pulling her into a tight hug, alessia drops her bag to catch you just in time, chuckling affectionately as you clung onto her. “aw, my love” alessia grins as you peck her cheeks repeatedly.

she places you down with your arms interlocked, “don't look so happy to see me, lee baby” alessia laughs, both of you now looking at a frowning leah, her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she watched you two in your loved up bubble.

“what’s her problem?” alessia whispers to you, you just shake your head and smile up at her brightly, “doesn't matter” you assure, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

“i’ve got a bone to pick with you, russo!” leah complains.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily tooney

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

alessia: my favourite girls in the world!

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yourname: one more than the other, though, right?

↳ alessia: cheeky baby

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re not denying anything?

↳ yourname: oooooo you’re in troubleeeeee

↳ alessia: sigh

↳ leahwilliamsonn: both of you are in time out.

[writingwithcolor]

Sri Lankan Fairies and Senegalese Goddesses: Mixing Mythology as a Mixed Creator

[Note: this archive ask was submitted before the Masterpost rules took effect in 2023. The ask has been abridged for clarity.]

@reydjarinkenobi asked:

Hi, I’m half Sri Lankan/half white Australian, second gen immigrant though my mum moved when she was a kid. My main character for my story is a mixed demigod/fae. [...] Her bio mum is essentially a Scottish/Sri Lankan fairy and her other bio mum (goddess) is a goddess of my own creation, Nettamaar, who’s name is derived from [...] Wolof words [...]. The community of mages that she presided over is from the South Eastern region of Senegal [...] In the beginning years of European imperialism, the goddess basically protected them through magic and by blessing a set of triplets effectively cutting them off from the outside world for a few centuries [...] I was unable to find a goddess that fit the story I wanted to tell [...] and also couldn’t find much information on the internet for local gods, which is why I have created my own. I know that the gods in Hinduism do sort of fit into [the story] but my Sri Lankan side is Christian and I don’t feel comfortable representing the Hindu gods in the way that I will be this goddess [...]. I wanted to know if any aspect of the community’s history is problematic as well as if I should continue looking further to try and find an African deity that matched my narrative needs? I was also worried that having a mixed main character who’s specifically half black would present problems as I can’t truly understand the black experience. I plan on getting mixed and black sensitivity readers once I finish my drafts [...] I do take jabs at white supremacy and imperialism and I I am planning to reflect my feelings of growing up not immersed in your own culture and feeling overwhelmed with what you don’t know when you get older [...]. I’m sorry for the long ask but I don’t really have anyone to talk to about writing and I’m quite worried about my story coming across as insensitive or problematic because of cultural history that I am not educated enough in.

Reconciliation Requires Research

First off: how close is this world’s history to our own, omitting the magic? If you’re aiming for it to be essentially parallel, I would keep in mind that Senegal was affected by the spread of Islam before the Europeans arrived, and most people there are Muslim, albeit with Wolof and other influences. 

About your Scottish/Sri Lankan fairy character: I’ll point you to this previous post on Magical humanoid worldbuilding, Desi fairies as well as this previous post on Characterization for South Asian-coded characters for some of our commentary on South Asian ‘fae’. Since she is also Scottish, the concept can tie back to the Celtic ideas of the fae.

However, reconciliation of both sides of her background can be tricky. Do you plan on including specific Sri Lankan mythos into her heritage? I would tread carefully with it, if you plan to do so. Not every polytheistic culture will have similar analogues that you can pull from.

To put it plainly, if you’re worried about not knowing enough of the cultural histories, seek out people who have those backgrounds and talk to them about it. Do your research thoroughly: find resources that come from those cultures and read carefully about the mythos that you plan to incorporate. Look for specificity when you reach out to sensitivity readers and try to find sources that go beyond a surface-level analysis of the cultures you’re looking to portray. 

~ Abhaya

I see you are drawing on Gaelic lore for your storytelling. Abhaya has given you good links to discussions we’ve had at WWC and the potential blindspots in assuming, relative to monotheistic religions like Christianity, that all polytheistic and pluralistic lore is similar to Gaelic folklore. Fae are one kind of folklore. There are many others. Consider:

Is it compatible? Are Fae compatible with the Senegalese folklore you are utilizing? 

Is it specific? What ethnic/religious groups in Senegal are you drawing from? 

Is it suitable? Are there more appropriate cultures for the type of lore you wish to create?

Remember, Senegalese is a national designation, not an ethnic one, and certainly not a designation that will inform you with respect to religious traditions. But more importantly:

...Research Requires Reconciliation

My question is why choose Senegal when your own heritage offers so much room for exploration? This isn’t to say I believe a half Sri-Lankan person shouldn’t utilize Senegalese folklore in their coding or vice-versa, but, to put it bluntly, you don’t seem very comfortable with your heritage. Religions can change, but not everything cultural changes when this happens. I think your relationship with your mother’s side’s culture offers valuable insight to how to tackle the above, and I’ll explain why.  

I myself am biracial and bicultural, and I had to know a lot about my own background before I was confident using other cultures in my writing. I had to understand my own identity—what elements from my background I wished to prioritize and what I wished to jettison. Only then was I able to think about how my work would resonate with a person from the relevant background, what to be mindful of, and where my blindspots would interfere. 

I echo Abhaya’s recommendation for much, much more research, but also include my own personal recommendation for greater self-exploration. I strongly believe the better one knows oneself, the better they can create. It is presumptuous for me to assume, but your ask’s phrasing, the outlined plot and its themes all convey a lack of confidence in your mixed identity that may interfere with confidence when researching and world-building. I’m not saying give up on this story, but if anxiety on respectful representation is a large barrier for you at the moment, this story may be a good candidate for a personal project to keep to yourself until you feel more ready.

(See similar asker concerns here: Running Commentary: What is “ok to do” in Mixed-Culture Supernatural Fiction, here: Representing Biracial Black South American Experiences and here: Am I fetishizing my Japanese character?)

- Marika.

Start More Freely with Easy Mode

Question: Why not make a complete high-fantasy universe, with no need of establishing clear real-world parallels in the text? It gives you plenty of leg room to incorporate pluralistic, multicultural mythos + folklore into the same story without excessive sweating about historically accurate worldbuilding.

It's not a *foolproof* method; even subtly coded multicultural fantasy societies like Avatar or the Grishaverse exhibit certain harmful tropes. I also don't know if you are aiming for low vs high fantasy, or the degree of your reliance on real world culture / religion / identity cues.

But don't you think it's far easier for this fantasy project to not have the additional burden of historical accuracy in the worldbuilding? Not only because I agree with Mod Marika that perhaps you seem hesitant about the identity aspect, but because your WIP idea can include themes of othering and cultural belonging (and yes, even jabs at supremacist institutions) in an original fantasy universe too. I don't think I would mind if I saw a couple of cultural markers of a Mughal Era India-inspired society without getting a full rundown of their agricultural practices, social conventions and tax systems, lol.

Mod Abhaya has provided a few good resources about what *not* to do when drawing heavily from cultural coding. With that at hand, I don't think your project should be a problem if you simply make it an alternate universe like Etheria (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power), Inys (The Priory of the Orange Tree) or Earthsea (the Earthsea series, Ursula K. Le Guin). Mind you, we can trace the analogues to each universe, but there is a lot of freedom to maneuver as you wish when incorporating identities in original fantasy. And of course, multiple sensitivity readers are a must! Wishing you the best for the project.

- Mod Mimi

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine you are the third head of the dragon.

Warnings: explicit smut, drama, angst—fluffy endings tho. We stand happy Aemond and happy Aegon; long post.

***

• (I)

You are the only princess of the four children of King Viserys and his second wife after the demise of Princess Helena before you were even born.

So at the time of your birth your grieving mother relied on you, giving you perhaps a different treatment that she conceded your brothers. The Queen is definitely more protective to you.

As you grow, robust and lively, you find yourself looking for a place between Aemond and Aegon.

To complicate things, your father neglects you and your mother starts to busy herself with queenship.

This is the background you find yourself for the moment. Overshadowed by an older sister you've never seen, ignored by two brothers who are constantly at each other, loneliness is your companion and you feed it with books, sharpening your mind as you grow.

It happens, however, that you find Aemond at the library this day. You'd quickly turn out had he not spoken to you first.

"Come here, Y/N. Why do I get the sensation that you are fleeing from me?"

You do as told.

"I do not think you appreciate my company for whenever I am nearby you disappear."

Leaving the book aside, he looks up and greets you with a small smile.

"So the princess speaks. Well, if it happens to be so it's because I have other tasks. Unfortunately our lessons are scheduled for different parts of a day."

Seeing you are still untrusting his words, Aemond sighs and moves to where you are.

"Come now, Y/N. What are you intending to read today?"

As one looks to the other, the initial distrust is overcome. Whatever Aemond sees in you finds home in how you let him in too.

*

Aegon sees you the moment he leaves Sunfyre.

The four and ten year boy watches as you, four years younger, pace lonely around the gardens.

He'd usually have no time to waste if the person in question was Aemond, but something about you changes his mind and he turns around.

"Is this a Targaryen trait to be able to read a book and walk at the same time?"

You raise your head and chuckle at his words.

Aegon has always been the unreachable elder brother, but for some reason you are like a sunbeam whenever he looks at you. And he is proud of himself for making you smile.

"I cannot say, but if this is the case then it is a gift I can at least claim."

Aware this hints at the fact you haven't reclaimed a dragon to yourself yet, the prince softens towards you.

"Dreamfyre is out there, you know."

"I cannot",

", and your smile falters. "It was hers."

Rarely the Queen spoke of Princess Helena to you. The sister whom you've never met was the eldest (she'd be joined by Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron before you came to this world) of the family, after Rhaenyra. She had claimed a dragon when she was two and ten, and had she lived today, she would be counting a second decade in this world.

But due to a sickness, two years after Helena delighted in riding Dreamfyre, she was no more. It did impact her family in many ways and you, born six years later, still feel daunted by her memory.

"Y/N", Aegon understands well what you left unsaid. "This is not how she would have liked to be remembered."

"You say it so because mother doesn't compare you to her like she does to me."

In pain, a bond rises. Aegon is surprised himself when he notices it.

"Oh, how mistaken you are, dear Y/N. I too wonder at times if it wasn't better for us all that the Gods spared her instead of me."

You take his hand in yours and you like how warm his skin is.

"Do not say so. You are good to me, Aegon. You can be good. Do not forget it."

That evening, Aegon could believe there is hope somewhere. About what? He cannot say.

***

• (II)

Tensions between Rhaenyra's offspring and the Queen's are growing slow, but intently. You have noticed how often Aemond has been mocked for not having a dragon to claim, a topic that is quite sensitive to you as well.

These are the moments where you come out of your cave.

"Leave him alone. It seems to me that neither of you are capable of understanding that it's to the Gods' decide whenever we bond with our dragons."

Lucerys laughs disdainfully at you, and Aemond sees you going red. A bad sign. He holds your hand as if he's trying to prevent you to get into a fight that is not yours.

But when Baela snaps back, the unexpected happens. You are brought to an unpredictable display of ire, pushed to the point where you knock her down.

"Shut up, won't you?!"

It doesn't get worse because Aemond interferes and, together with a very impressed Aegon, you are taken off the room. But the implications of the day only worsened your moods when Aemond himself loses an eye because of Lucerys.

"I am glad in you I can trust", says Aemond in a rare display of affection, of fragility.

You hold him tight.

"I cannot forgive myself for being absent this day. I failed to protect you, Aemond. For that I'm sorry."

He looks at you, partially amused.

"You are my younger sister. It's I who should say so, not you."

"Nevertheless..."

"Don't, Y/N. I'll be fine."

Neither speak for a moment. It's here where the lines are drawn out, where there is a subtle modification in the nature of the relationship between him and you. But what would you know?

***

• (III)

Here you are, watching Aegon flying with Aemond. Despite your pride, you took the opportunity to ride with your boys. The rarity of the occasion-where you, a rider unclaimed, had the chance to mount a very ancient dragon and another relatively younger-helps strengthening the bonds between you three.

But as you are tired, you are merely an observer.

Lying down in the green grass of the open field, a spot where you like to spend your time with your siblings, here is usually your safe haven, where no one troubles you —where the deranged concept of paradise can be traced in the back of your mind.

However, your flaws give you little time to rest upon. You are constantly reminded that everyone has a dragon but you. Though your father has shockingly observed Dreamfyre has no rider, you refuse to take the dragon of the sister whom everyone loved as yours.

Thus it is you start to recount in the back of your mind the dragons left yet to be tamed-if yet they can be claimed so. It's when your are reminded of a dragon as old as Vhagar... one of the kind that has long been left with no rider to claim as its own.

The arduous task emanates behind your eyes.

Ambition rises in your chest, but you are up to it.

When you observe Amond and Aegon up in the skies, you whisper to yourself:

"I am by no means lesser than any of them. I'll show them all I am the third head of the dragon."

A deadly promise that certainly has the eager ears of the divine.

*

The day chosen for this is, in fact, right after your lord father has died. Aegon has been chosen a king in opposition to Rhaenyra and as conspiracies roll to dethrone your elder sister in favour of a male heir, in similar parallels to the same council attended by King Jaehaerys many moons ago which determined that Prince Viserys would inherit the throne against Princess Rhaenys' rights, you follow your lead.

It happens to be a storming day, a bad omen to many-depending of the point of view. To a start, you are betrothed to Aegon.

"I have always assumed you'd have Lady Baela at your side", you are heard musing to your inexpressible elder brother.

Aegon limits himself giving you a long look.

"As if, my dear Y/N. As if!"

You chuckle quietly. And the sound of it makes the elder of the three to smile genuinely. Indeed, as you notice for the first time, it is a good sight to admire.

The now king who is styled as Aegon II seems to notice something different in you too. But this exchange of glances ends abruptly as businesses are conducted-and you notice that Aemond, a silent witness that is so easily mistaken to a shadow, doesn't like what he sees so he leaves.

You sigh and stand, going after him in spite of your mother's protests that you should stay so the betrothal is announced... But as you part nonetheless, Aegon's eyes refuse to follow you.

It appears I must learn to share.

The new king finds this concept a rather odd one, but his namesake did the same, so why not do the same? As he plays with his finger and hears the council planning his coronation day, Aegon realizes this may not be such a bad idea.

After all... there must be three heads of the dragon.

He shivers.

*

Aemond stands at the yard, his chest heavy, smashed by the weight of wishing everything he cannot possessed. He wishes they could see that it's Aemond, not Aegon, better suited for the crown, better suited for...

"Aem", like a whisper, like a prayer your voice comes to his ears.

Aemond slowly turns only to spot you dressed in dark green robes, hair split in two long braids.

You've turned to a woman, no longer the introspective child that feared his presence.

"Y/N", he whispers too.

"You left the council."

"So did you".

Silence. Aemond can tell you are irritated by his words. By how you breathe, he knows you are upset. And he wishes things are otherwise, but what can he do when you are out of reach?

"You should have stayed", you insist.

"What for? I have no use there", Aemond scoffs.

"This is not the true." When you slip towards him, the prince finds in your gaze a very obstinate trait that, however, is tempered by your gentleness.

Some you remind him of his ancestor, Queen Rhaenys. "We must stick together. The world out there is cruel, Aemond. We need each other."

His hands are now resting around your waist-an imperceptible gesture, done almost unconsciously—, drawing you closer, even though you need not so much encouragement to do it willingly.

When have these sentiments begun to change?

Or have they always been there? A question Aemond does not dare to pose even if they are detected in his good one eye, softened as you raise your right hand to stroke his cheek-and he does not push you away.

"I have never failed my duty, Y/Nickname", like the boy he was, he opens up to you. "But you are not mine to claim even though l'd be a better husband to you."

You smile and it is as if the clouds open up to let the light come in.

"I know you have not. Which is why I'm asking you to stay", you lean forward and Aemond detests the trap he's led into. "We need you. Perhaps not all is lost...”

You tilt your head, letting words be spoken.

Aemond knows that where you are concerned, there is no way to say otherwise. Haven't it always been like this?

Thus it is not entirely surprising that he cedes at your charms by wrapping his hands around your neck and looses the control of his impulses by locking his lips with yours.

You sigh in content, not fighting this urge nor repressing the sentiment that has always been there. You respond his kiss, gladly letting yourself be involved. For where darkness lies ahead, Aemond provides you some light.

"It seems better", says he when you both pull apart to catch some air, "to share you with him than with a stranger."

"I'm glad we have finally agreed", you smile like the silly thing you are.

Despite these merrier circumstances, you are very mindful of what's to be done. And you have no need to wait further for it... even though as you prepare to it, Aegon spots you.

"Never took you for sneaking, Y/N", the king comes at you, and you see in his eyes a mix of feelings that being tossed to such a high position brings him. "Is it me the cause of your elope?"

"I am not eloping, Aegon", you say calmly but firmly. "I have no reason to do so."

Aegon scoffs and an old wound is opened to bleed.

"I am not like Aemond. I understand that it is him you opt to be wedded to."

You sigh, aware of the task that awaits you.

Nevertheless, you are not someone known to be a quitter. You step forward, shortening the distance that for so long has been great.

"You are not unlovable, Aegon. In these peril times, we must not be apart of each other. Feelings do not make us kings. Duties do."

"Bards tend to claim that duties are the death of love", Aegon shoots you a long gaze, still distrustful of your intentions.

You let silence hang loose as you take his hand, moulding into yours as fingers are intertwined. It feels surprisingly good, warm and cozy. You stare at what this union means and you look up at him.

Aegon seems to share the surprise when observing how well your hands are. Little by little tension begins to fade.

"Duties should not be the death of duty. They can coexist." Your thumb rubs around his skin. "There must be three dragons, Aegon."

He sighs.

"I cannot protest against it."

"You can. I am not forcing you into anything for you are the king, after all."

Aegon snorts. It takes little time before he pulls you against him and lifts your chin so his lilac eyes reflect your ones.

"How grown and witter you've become, Y/N", and a sly smirk curls upon your lips when his eyes part to look down at your heavy breathing chest.

"Quite a woman indeed."

Experiencing this lust is to taste the fire of the dragon. Aegon smirks when reading these new sentiments that rise in you. But frustratingly.. he lets go of you.

"I shall best wait for our wedding feast. You'll not be disappointed. Have a good evening, my dear Y/ N."

How your name rolls out of his lips gives you shivers. You wish you could plead him to stay, you are tempted to follow your impulses... but as the king walks off, you let him think victory is with him. For this night you are expected elsewhere.

*

To cool off your womanly needs that have recently risen, you resignify your actions. There is a soft rain pouring this night and you are wearing your court gown. Guarded by two guards and a lady of your trust, you confide your life into the unknown.

You lead the way to the cave where a dragon as old as tale is left in his asleep. For years untroubled, no one dared to claim him. But you... you want more. You've always aimed higher. And we are not speaking of the game of thrones.

Wild as a beast, you are not the royal daughter of House Targaryen whose beauty has earned a rare comparison to Queen Rhaenys. Some bards dare to say you are her incarnation. You are you, Y/N of House Targaryen.

The third head of the dragon. The dragon they need.

Thus you venture inside the cave.

***

• (IV)

The moment you land Aegon's Hill with Vermithor is when every question about your apparent disappearance is answered. Aemond and Aegon are indeed surprised to find in the sweet and delicate sister they share a formidable ally in the upcoming war.

"Y/N, this is very bold of you", your mother tells you in between awe and annoyance. "To leave out in the dark without any explanation... do you realize how wrong this all could have gone to?"

"I'm sorry, mother, but I had to try."

"Wouldn't Dreamfyre be sufficient to you?"

"No. I am not here to supplant my deceased sister, but to be my own self."

The dowager queen doesn't like the answer she gets of you, but at the same time she sees herself in this precise response. She takes your hand into hers and you are more than pleased that you two come to terms about it.

Later that day, when you prefer not to be included in the green's council, Aemond comes at you. You are found at the backyard, reading under a tree.

"I pray I am not interrupting anything."

You lift up and the rogue prince smiles to himself when seeing how lighted up you are at his presence. You quick move to where he is and Aemond is drowned to your presence, burying his face in your neck.

"Gods, I missed you", you say, hands stroking his long hair. "I wish we were not part of this, Aemond."

"Neither did I, but we must protect Aegon at all costs" , says the prince, now stepping back to look at you. He sees through your beauty, aware that this is someone bold like him, rider of an ancient dragon. You are every inch of Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror's blood.

Hands intertwine as gazes are locked. Whatever path this conflict is leading all of you to, you are prepared to take part of it.

"We must and we will." You stroke his face. "We need each other, Aemond. We truly do."

"For we are the three heads of the dragon", muses Aemond, taking your free hand to his lips, upon which he presses a kiss. "I know it as much as you do."

You lean forward to kiss his lips. To feel him one more time is a must, but this is not a goodbye.

This should not feel so.

Specially because Aemond has other plans to weave.

*

Meanwhile, you opt to visit Aegon in his privy quarters. It has been some time since the two of you had a moment to yourselves...and you detest the anguishing possibility that he's been avoiding you.

Aegon is found sharing a drink with his mates when he sees you. Embellished in a mix of green and red, your hair is long lose in curls that match your delicate features.

Can he look away before this view? He cannot. What is more, you are naturally seductive and yet completely ignorant of the power you have in others.

Aegon thus finds reasonable to dismiss his friends and greet you properly.

"What a delighted surprise it is to find you here, Y/N."

"Should it be so?", you take a seat next to him. "I shall be your wife within days and even though it is an arranged marriage, I believe we must make the best out of it."

Aegon looks at you as if he's trying to read your true intentions, but you are being as genuine as your nature permits you to be. He chills then.

"I've always considered Aemond to be a better match for you."

"We cannot be apart of each other, Aegon. Not in these perilous times", and here you take his hand, gently holding it. "You are not by yourself."

Aegon doesn't answer at first. You stand and move to where he is, daring to involve him in an embrace. His head is now against your chest, and you stroke his hair as he holds you against him.

His breath against your skin gives you shivers. But you know what you are doing.

Little by little, right at the throne chamber, where only the fireplace is the witness, Aegon starts to unlace your gown and his lips are suddenly over the swell of your breasts going up to your neck.

You smile, very inclined to it-you move your hip to sit right over his, letting him do whatever he wants with you. Because you are not so innocent, hardly a lamb-you are just as passionate as he is.

And his lips going to your neck so hungrily, makes you wipe out reason of your mind. You moan softly, pleased to be introduced to this matter.

Aegon's left hand moves to your hips and legs, lifting your skirt, his teeth claiming your neck all the while.

And you throw your head back, eyes barely closed when his eager flingers find his ways to your aching womanhood.

"Has he touched you?", Aegon whispers in your ear, biting down your earlobe and smirking pleasantly when seeing you shiver.

"No. It is my husband's merit to do so", you tell him, feeling his aroused member pump against your womanhood.

You'd gladly move against it, rubbing yourself in the process, but his finger suddenly finds the way to your core.

"Oh Gods!", you cry out.

Aegon smiles pleasantly. His smile, burning bright like the sun, is so captivating. And yet here you are, subdued to him as he touches you in such an indecent manner.

"Mm." He buries his head in your neck, holding you close, always tender, always considerate to you. "Yes, my dear Y/N. Come to me, will you?"

You are experiencing a new kind of bliss, so indescribable, that you cannot help yourself being so loud. You cling onto him, your lips desperately looking for his to clash.

It’s a different sensation to kiss your betrothed, and him, likewise. A new bond is forged from fire and blood. The result of it… Aegon feels right in his hand.

“I told you”, you cup his face as you rest your forehead against his, “that you are not unlovable nor undesired, Aegon.”

You are breathless by the time you pursuit him. For the first time in a while, Aegon grants you permission to let you in. As he cuddles you, hands wrapped around your waist, the king says:

“Gods be good for sending you, my darling.”

“Anything for my king, my love.”

And you mean every word of it.

***

• (V)

Right before the marriage is officially celebrated in the common rites of Westeros, another is on its way under the rites of Old Valyria. For both brothers espouse you as their wife.

“Who’d see this day coming?”, says Aegon in a jest. “Like the good old days.”

Aemond shoots him a meaningless look.

“Better it keep in the family than out of it.”

“The dragons must be three”, you say, rather moved by a strange intuition that occurs you every now and then. “Three. Not two. Never two.”

“The old should hardly have been replaced by the new”, says Aemond. “Tradition is something very few valued these days.”

“Quite the opposite, brother”, says Aegon in good mood. “We are prevailing, can you not see it?”

So the ceremony proceeds after all of the tree has come to an agreement that this is a secret with few to share…

*

Later that evening, you try not to look so nervous as the bedding feast begins. You spot a discreet Aemond retiring and you partly fear that he will not join you and Aegon. The mere idea, though, gives you shivers and begins to shake your nerves.

Aegon, seeing how you struggle to conceal your true sentiments, takes your hand under the table and gives a light squeeze. Then he leans discreetly to whisper in your ear:

“All in your time, my dear. If you do not wish to partake it, I can…”

“No”, you tell him firmly. “I shall perform my duties accordingly. Besides…”, and here you flash him a mischievous smirk, “…this is something I’ve been looking forward to do.”

Aegon smirks at you, but when he reclines back to his chair to down another glass, his eyes remain glued in you. He knows you more than you’d have judged.

And yet when he comes to take your hand into his, you dare to look at him again and now… as you two share a look, you feel at ease for the very first time.

*

When you get to the privy quarters, you are putting up with a confidence you lack. You dress only one line robe over your nude frame and your silver hair hangs loose on your back.

The door opens and to your surprise you find Aegon and Aemond, both waiting for you. They are talking as if nothing different is about to happen, as if this is a regular day to them both.

You are rather relieved to see them getting along like they have always been—partners, brothers and friends. Aegon doesn’t look troubled like he often is whenever he’s at the council or nearby his Hightower relatives, your mother being one of them.

His hair is slightly shorter, hanging it at his neck, a complete mess of curls. He is wearing his me nightgown, which shows his bare legs and… You blush at the sight of his manhood, something you’ve never had a glimpse before.

It is a struggle to look at Aemond, though, who is dressed similar. You think you are about to faint, but the subtle warmth you experience in your womanhood certainly prevents you to shy away of consuming this union you’ve longed to arrange.

As you step forward silently so, all eyes are now on you. Aegon and Aemond share a look as if there’s a silent agreement about something. It feels as if they have already discussed how this is going to be.

“Our wife looks stunning this evening”, says Aegon, coming forward to greet you. He takes your wrist and there presses a linger kiss, and something about how you react to this simple gesture makes him smirk. “Do you not think so, brother?”

“Ever the charming”, and here comes Aegon, standing by your right, his slander hand gently touching your curls. “She, whose beauty is unmatched, has come to love us both.”

“Equally”, Aegon sublimes it, very pleased to detect a blush on your paled cheeks. Standing by your left, he gently strokes your face, before slipping a hand to your chest, thus starting to unlace your robes.

“Equally”, Aemond agrees, gently touching your jawline and neck. “And so do we.”

“For there must be”, Aegon whispers in your ear the moment your robes drop to the floor, “three heads of the dragon.”

You shiver. Speechless, all you can do is appreciate their handsomeness. You touch their faces, letting your gaze transmit all your tongue cannot.

The connection is indeed strong, for neither feels the need to translate to words what has always been understood, accepted and taken into the respective hearts.

As Aemond takes his time in exploring your body, his lips slowly going to your cheek to your neck, it’s Aegon who takes the initiative in showing you the ways of… a marital activity.

“Oh Lords”, it’s all you eventually manage to speak out when Aemond kisses your neck and you start to caress Aegon’s manhood all the whilst you are told so many naughty things that make your womanhood ache.

“Mm”, Aegon groans lightly as he takes your hand and leads the way, teaching you how to caress his erect manhood, pumping all the way. “You are natural in this, Y/N.”

You purr the moment he kisses your lips and Aemond starts to caress your already painfully hardened nipple. You throw your head back, about to lose your balance—but thankfully Aemond has a hand to rest on your lower back.

It is a very promising night. Your innocence is certainly no more as you start to enjoy doing it so. Your lips are now going fervent from one to another, a victim of their prey—for though you believed to have had this all along, when Aegon takes your breasts with his skillful hands only to let Aemond slide to his knees and do wonderfulness in your womanhood… you see this has been woven by them for a long time.

“Ah!”, you throw your head back, already a puddle of mess as Aemond takes you all with his tongue.

“Cry out, Y/N. Scream if you dare”, Aegon smirks, pleased to have you the way he wanted you to be: completely corrupted.

“I cannot…”

“Holding back is only worse, and we haven’t even begun yet.”

When your eyes meet, you realize this is their doing and you are their creature. Thus you explode in orgasms, but Aemond doesn’t shy away from drinking all of it.

*

It is Aegon who has the privilege to bed you first. Aemond is very patient—in fact, he likes to watch and make eye contact with you as the elder of you penetrates you nice and slow. It’s delightfully painful to be in this manner, and you never felt so good nor desired, less so to be loved and admired.

As you are close to get your climax, Aemond takes his part in it. Aegon leaves it him to finish the task, but you want more of it—don’t waste the seed, you ask him.

And you engulf it, when Aegon does as requested.

“Indeed, the three of us are nothing but a great piece of art”, muses Aemond as he throbbes inside you.

In this mix of bodies and pleasures and pain, it is only fair that synchrony does its work and pays it well the effort that is to love two men at the same time.

*

Yet, not all is about bedding activities and indecent leisures. War is still being carried out and news have been bad enough to shake the confidence of the Green Cause.

For it is said that Rhaenyra has accomplished a number of bastards to ride some wild dragons. It means to say Aegon is outnumbered.

Hopeless as it may, neither Aegon nor Aemond are willing to quit a fight. What they must do is put in practice the good old strategy: to divide is to conquer. This means they start to ponder how to do so… when they remember that you are the rider of a dragon as old and powerful as Vhagar is.

“Do not think”, your mother, who’s part of the council, is informed before you do of their intentions, “that Y/N should take part of this. She is too innocent for this matter and has no taste to wage wars.”

Aemond clenches his jaw but Aegon dares to snap back:

“To think we are this low morally, mother, gives the light upon which you see us. Well, let me remind you that Y/N loves to ride and is every bit a Targaryen. To hid her away will not change the fragility that you put me through!”

“I intend to keep your throne by all means I can”, says Alicent just as firm. “But this does not require that I must test all of my offspring.”

“This is war”, says Aemond. “What else do you expect? Innocent and guilt are not spared, nor noble or lowborn folk. If you intend to fight for our cause, well then, light the way.”

Otto Hightower, so far watching the discussion with interesting eyes, decides this is the proper time to interfere.

“I was not expecting a wise remark of Aegon, but there it is. He is right, Alicent. War does not spare anyone and hasn’t Y/N claimed Vermithor? Vantage is in our side and we must use it. Next to Vhagar, no one will stand for us. However… We must reason how to do so.”

“I see how little my own perspective here is considered”, and yet Alicent adds: “Be this if it may. Let us fight with the claws we have. We will indeed light the way to the throne and burn all of those who dare to stand in our path.”

Finally, Aegon smiles. Finally a queen who fights for the rights of her children. It seems the greens have finally been tied in one knot.

*

You are found pacing around the gardens with two ladies a few feet behind in order to grant you some privacy. Having just landed after riding with Vermithor, you need to settle before going back to court.

The court, an ideal world where illusions are played in order to entertain courtiers and put a rein to the noble houses’ ambitions. Ruling it is like ruling a realm. One misstep and diplomatic relations can break.

To keep a certain distance between nobility and the royal household you must dress as significant as possible—for fashion is every princess’s weapon, a form to express power through rich cloth that no one can purchase. This exclusivity has always been part of House Targaryen, the only one to exhibit purple cloth amidst its traditional colours to reinforce its royalty.

Not only you dress fancifully to show your power as Queen, but your manners too are regal and carefully pondered. Always the diplomatic, you are impeccable whenever you entertain men and women who could possibly be working for Rhaenyra right now.

Since you do not like the attention, you appreciate the role that most might judge—your enemies, overall—as superficial. But to work beneath the table always works better.

So here you are resting when he finds you.

“Of all the changes I’ve seen, it is good to see one thing remains the same”.

You turn around to see Aegon in his traditional green robes. The tenderness in his face when seeing you warms your heart and distracts you of this recent exhaustion that has been plaguing your heart. But this perception you do not share with anyone.

“What is that, I wonder?”, you smile warmly as you motion towards him.

Aegon takes your hand before pulling you closer to him.

“That your tastes have not been affected by the transition of age.”

You blush. Who could have foreseen that a bold as this would grow to a deeper sentiment, far more than lust and affection could conceive?

“You know more than you show.”

Aegon takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“How can I not know my lady? My wife and queen, my greatest support.”

“You, as my king and blood of my blood, are more than I deserve.” And here you move boldly to press your lips against his, not minding the protocols.

A serene kiss that, both of you know, not only comes so naturally to physically reinforce this tenderness that involves each, but that tempers the bad news you sense that may come.

“You have something to tell me.”

It is not a question. Aegon sighs, but since Aemond has parted with Vhagar, he is left with the discomfort decision of giving you the resolution of the council.

“How’d you know? Has my discomfort played its card?”

You smile benignly, always the patient.

“When I made you and Aemond the solace of my heart was not only moved by this strange intuition that a dragon must have three heads. It was more than inclination to old prophecies that anyone would understand.” You shrug your shoulders, but none of this surprises your husband, already familiar with the topic.

“This means that when I claimed Vermithor, I was prepared for the day we would be challenged. Your cause is uncontested, my love.”

“I only wish I had not involved you in this.”

You kiss your cheek.

“Not even Rhaenys contented herself with entertaining court for so long. When her Aegon required, she attended her duties. So, mine own liege Aegon, what is it you request of me, your humble wife?”

Aegon swallows, but when he raises his eyes, you see resignation behind them.

So he tells you the plan.

***

• (VI)

The day before the three of you would fly with your dragons and lead your armies to war, you find yourself feeling slightly nauseous. Thankfully a maid came to succor you before you succumbed to your strange new moods.

“Thank you”, you smile at her. “But I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

Early this morning you have found yourself in a strange twist of humour since you’ve been without either of your husbands and bed has been cold. You struggle to be in a good mood when war leaves you anxious and the company of your mother irritates you every now and then.

There is always a great price to pay to keep my emotions in check.

Thankfully though, Aemond is the first to return and you rush to greet him. Today, it’s raining and you do not mind to get wet when you welcome him in your arms.

“Looks like I was missed”, muses the prince with a smirk when being engulfed by you. His hands caress your sides before lifting you and spinning you around.

“You took some time, Aemond. It is unjust to leave me waiting.”

“My apologies, wife, but you know I cannot flee my duties”, and here he takes your hands and kisses each before doing the same to your lips. “I have missed you more than it is sensible to conceive.”

Resting his forehead against yours, Aemond is at peace again, a rarity ever since the war has started—specially after what happened to Lucerys, which had ran out of his control and he never forgave himself for that.

Sensing his troubled soul, you take him inside the castle, trying to distract of his mind. He appreciates the effort, and you two have your privacy at the library, running away of this plagued world for a few moments.

“This is where it all begun”, says Aemond, amused as he scans the shelves where heavy and dusted books are kept. “I recollect you feared me a bit.”

You smile at the memory.

“I thought you were unreachable and that was because you didn’t like me.”

Aemond snorts at you.

“Dislike you?”, he lifts your chin and draws you closer to him, imposing his taller presence in a way that makes you weak in your knees. “How could you nurture such thought?”

You feel like you’ve been dancing with him towards the wall, for you hit your back against it and he presses you in it. It doesn’t help your state that he pulls his knee right in between your legs, rubbing it against your womanhood.

And your reaction is precisely what he expects.

“You… you were often so out of my reach”, you tell in short curt breath. “Aemond, darling, we are not in our privacy.”

He smirks, leaning to peck your lips as he lifts the skirts of your gown. It occurs to him that something about your body looks different, but not knowing what this is, he doesn’t pay attention to it yet.

“Is that so?”, and his hand makes the path he’s so familiar with. “You’ve been lonely, I know.”

You are barely short breathed as you feel it going to your womanhood. Your eye flashes are barely open and the moment his finger starts to do wonderfulness in you, every protocol dies in mute resistance.

“How could you tell?”, you moan, desperately holding onto his shoulders, pulling his hair back before kissing his jawline and burying your lips to his neck.

“Because”, Aemond’s breath hitches for a moment before he whispers, “I know your apetites well.”

“You are the blood of my blood”, and now your hand is quick to find its way to where you want it to be. “It could not be otherwise.”

But Aemond holds your wrists above your head, pinning you further against the wall as he quickly slides his manhood in you just as you are about to reach climax in his skillful hand.

“Aemond!”, you cry out.

“Mine that you are, my queen”, and he shushes you with a fervent kiss all the whilst he bangs you against the wall intently.

*

You are standing outside the castle in your own armor suit. Vermithor has left the dragon’s pit and it seems to feel your anxiety. The old winged beast looks eager to go back to war, to be useful again and you cannot blame him for it. It only mirrors your sense of duty.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N”, you hear your mother’s plead and when feeling her pain, you are moved by it. When you turn at her, you see her struggling between encouragement and fear for her only daughter… and considering the premature death of Princess Helaena, you realize you should have been kinder.

“I know where my duties lay, mother. Let me do this for my house like Queen Rhaenys did for hers.”

“And look what it befell her!”

You side smirk at your mother before pressing a kiss over her forehead.

“We are not fighting the Dornish, mother.”

But as you move to your dragon, Aegon and Aemond seem to reconsider your part in this. When hearing their hesitance, you scoff at them.

“We are in this together whether you like it or not. There is much to be done. I am not merely your wife, but a queen also, a queen who fights for her kings.”

The three of you stay silent for a few seconds. It falls to Aemond the task to give each a charge to put an end to this bloody war. But little do you know what’s yet to roll…

When it is about to each follow the path and mount each dragon respectively, you are taken by a bad feeling that makes you rush to Aegon.

“Wife”, he greets you with that sunny smile that has always been a weakness of yours. The king is adjusting the armor before getting to Sunfyre. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to Y/C?”

“I should, but I came to wish you my luck”, you say, strangely emotional. You come to realize you’ve been very weird lately, but so far you’ve managed to successfully kept a show. “Aegon, do not be imprudent.”

“Well, if anything falls on me, you have Aemond.”

To his surprise, you burst in tears. Aegon softens, having clearly underestimated the degree of affection you have for him. All his life he felt he’s been overshadowed whether by his younger brother or his elder sister, so he struggled to find his own place.

And yet… to see how you love him, even if he’s always agreed to share you with Aemond, aware that you and him had so far more affinities that with him—which he accepted well—, makes him somewhat emotional.

“You are not unlovable, Aegon”, you sob as he breaks in and holds you against him. “Do not dare to say such a thing. You are irreplaceable.”

So this is what it feels like, a thought occurs him. To feel loved.

“I do not deserve you. And you deserve someone better.”

“Shush, you fool. You are not only the king and blood of my blood, but the solace to my poor desolate heart.”

Aegon smiles to himself before lifting your chin and looking right into your eyes.

“My sweet Y/N, this is not the day I plan to die.”

“Do not dare to leave me in this world.”

He kisses you thus and you mewl under his embrace.

“Never.”

Reluctantly, though, Aegon parts of you. Very chivalrous, he takes your hand to his lips and there presses a kiss. The sight of you, not as a regal queen, but a devouted wife transports him to the old songs he used to love as a young man.

Oh but they will sing about us. The song of the three head dragons. The song about the queen who loved her brothers.

The idea encourages him to move forward. But even when he does so, you cannot wipe away the cascade of tears that expose you to an unknown cruciate misery.

*

Moved by strange sentiments, you think wise to follow them. What a sight by many to see you mounting Vermithor.

“There goes my sweet child. My only daughter”, the queen sighs in melancholy as she watches you fly.

“She is very brave, sister”, her brother, Ser Gwayne, says with a hint of pride. “There is a reason why Vermithor chose her and not the other way around.”

His words are very prophetic. And the Black party would be the first to feel its weight.

*

Aegon meets Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. But it is a rather unmatched fight: Meleys is older and experienced in battle all the whilst this is the first time poor Sunfyre is put to war.

The king holds the reins of his angst, but he tries his best even when the scenario is at his worst. The inevitable seems to occur, the circumstances do not favour him at all.

“I know we can do this”, Aegon mumbles to Sunfyre.

It is when so suddenly a grunting howl breaks through the air. It gives shivers to anyone who hears it. Soldiers down the field interrupt their fighting to see, fearful, who is coming to bring desolation to their cause.

If it is Caraxes, the Greens shake. But this is a dragon older perhaps than Prince Daemon’s winged creature.

Mounting for war, you ride Vermithor well prepared for the fight.

“This is my husband. This is my king and you will not take him of me.”

Vermithor senses the weight of his words. He does not wait for the order, he attacks. Aegon is surprised by how bold you are in battle. And what is more, you came to aid him.

He smiles in relief when seeing Vermithor out power Meleys, even though this is not an easy fight for the Red Dragon has her own experiences.

But Vermithor is deadly, dangerous and… mad. The dragons dance and it is no ordinary dance. One bite in the other’s belly, stretching out until…

“DRACARYS, VERMITHOR!”

A victory for the green cause, but this hasn’t finished yet. Not too far from it comes Baela in her dragon. She flies in complete outrage, but when your gaze meets Aegon’s, well… the princess must be prepared for a double wave of equal display of rage.

***

• (VII)

As war carries on, victories and losses have their prices. Despite the green’s evident advance, you are troubled by the dreams of a battle between your husband Aemond and your uncle Daemon.

To worse matters, Rhaenyra has summoned Targaryen bastards to ride wild dragons. You have been in advanced stages of pregnancy when it all seemed to lead for her upcoming victory—she’s been planting spies in the capital to stand for her cause, which means it is a matter of time before she takes King’s Landing.

“You are staying with our mother at Hightower, should the worse happen”, decides Aegon. “Do not give me this look, Y/N. You might as well as be carrying our heir, so I cannot stress—nor should I—enough the importance of your safety.”

These arguments are reasonable enough to convince you to stay. But to leave Vermithor behind? This is a risk you are unwilling to take.

“You must be out of your senses to suggest flying with your dragon in this state!”, Aemond hears your suggestion completely baffled. “What part of the safety of our unborn child do you not comprehend?”

You gritted your teeth and hiss away, storming off to your chambers. Not a very mature more when you know they are correct in worrying over you—your pregnancy has been giving you some concerns too, since you’ve been feeling exhausted for no reason. But such is the way of a pregnant woman.

“She will come to her senses”, says the Queen dowager. “Y/N has gotten used to be very active in her role, whether as wife, whether as queen, so it is understandable she’s not been taking well to be frustratingly… quiet.”

A sensation that Lady Alicent has been familiar with, but it is only vague since, in truth, she’s been plotting behind the scenes to impede Rhaenyra’s advance.

“Just… make sure the baby comes out well”, says Aemond, concealing the distress that is to go to war and leaving you behind for the first time.

“And make sure she’s safe”, adds Aegon, concerned likewise.

Alicent nods. She smiles at them. Once she found…unusual that the three of her children had linked so deeply in many levels, but now she is proud of the family they’ve become. Otto’s plans, her plans, succeeded and she wished Viserys saw that.

Now they part under grey clouds and mysterious scenes that lay ahead to be fought.

*

To the dowager queen’s surprise your labour is difficult. Perhaps due to your emotional state, it is more complicated that it would be assumed.

The men fight their battles and here you are, fighting yours in your own battlefield: the childbed.

Hours pass and no relief is found. Your screams can be heard in the corridors as you try to follow the midwife’s commands to push.

It really does not help that in this moment you have a sort of dream, a vision of a green battlefield painted in red. The blood of innocent spills in it, screams of terror follow the sound of blades.

Above skies, dragons dance. To your atonement, it is blurred. You cannot spot even the colors of the beasts, but their sounds scratch your ears and you begin to breath anxiously.

“Aegon…. Aemond…”

The sounds turn into cries and eventually… one of the dragons collapses. You shake before the view. Regardless of sides, dragons represent the power of the house Targaryen.

But there must be always three. Three heads of the dragons.

You know not where this certainty has come from. Like your sister Helaena you have dreams, but in your own way. They are not always clear and often come blurred. But this certainty…

Well, what does it matter now? You want to put an end to this misery. So you cry out with all the strength you have.

*

“Daemon Targaryen is dead”, Otto announces proudly and in evident display of emotion. “Gods be good, we are so close to victory.”

“Our plans have finally come to fruition”, Alicent cheers to it, downing another glass of wine. “Once my girl is recovered, I can tell she will give a fantastic ball.”

“Sometimes I am reminded of your mother whenever I look at Y/N”, says he, contemplative. “She has such a merry and firm spirit within that is hard not to be captivated. Helaena would have liked her.”

Sadness flashes behind Alicent’s eyes. Two children she lost in these years—first, Helaena; second, Daeron—and these losses a mother can hardly be fully recovered of.

“Yes, I like to think so. Had Helaena lived, though, this madness wouldn’t go forward.”

“Madness?”, Otto chuckles. “Aegon the Conqueror was not seen as mad when he took his two sisters as his wife. Regardless whether he did for duty or passion, it was wise to keep blood within the family. A trend the House you married to kept.”

“But not like this. Two husbands…”.

Alicent is baffled by the lack of atonement on her father’s part, but his stare leaves her disconcerted.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have done yourself if you had the opportunity. To be wedded to two Targaryens. And you know whom I speak of.”

The dowager queen chooses the silence. It suddenly appears reasonable not to question your matters of heart so openly…

*

You are just recovering when the door opens and you see Aegon and Aemond breaking through. You blush when seen in this state: dressing in a line nightgown, looking tired and paled after a day breastfeeding your twins.

“Oh! You have returned so soon!”, you’d quickly try to throw your robes over your frame, but Aegon promptly stops you to do so.

“Don’t, Y/N. You must rest. It isn’t as if we haven’t seen you undressed before”, says he with a smug smirk that makes you warm. He strokes your hair before being embraced by you. And Aegon is surprised when you start to weep. “Y/Nickname… what are these tears for?”

Aemond is reclined against your bed’s support watching the scene with the same puzzled expression.

“Have you even been churched?”

“I apologize for my overly emotional react. May be motherhood, but whatever it is… I am overjoyed in seeing you both so well! Does this mean we have won?”

Both brothers look at each other and had not been the glimpse of mischief you spot in their gaze, you’d have been despaired.

“Well?”, you insist in not the best of the moods.

“I am uncontestedly the king of Westeros”, says Aegon, very pleased in delivering the news and more so for seeing you smile so brightly. “You’ll know the details later, but first… how have you been?”

It’s when they are told of the children you gave birth to. Jaehaerys and Visenya, very Targaryen names who remit to two of the most powerful Westerosi sovereigns you descend of.

“I like to think Jaehaerys is yours”, says Aemond to Aegon, quite amused before the fact you birthed two children when you married two different men. “And Visenya is mine.”

In this late evening, once everyone is comfortable, you are found in between your husbands.

“Really?”, Aegon chuckles. “Why’s that?”

“Just a feeling I have. But it doesn’t matter this much, does it?”

But you do not take part of the conversation, for exhausted you are, you fall asleep… and for the first time in a long while, it has no green dreams to daunt you…

[fleursbending]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼

The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.

You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.

The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.

Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.

It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.

At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.

You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.

It was Ao'nung and his crew.

"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.

"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.

You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.

"No one is here to help you, Y/n."

They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.

"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.

"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.

Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.

Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.

The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.

Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.

"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."

Had it really been that long?

"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.

"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.

You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.

"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.

Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.

"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"

"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.

If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.

That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.

Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:

"We shouldn't push it, not now."

"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.

Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.

Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.

Something's wrong with our daughter.

Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.

Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?

Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.

From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.

They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.

So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.

Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.

If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.

"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.

"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.

"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.

They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.

At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.

Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?

But then it came.

It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.

It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.

Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?

"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.

Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."

Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.

Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.

"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.

He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.

"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.

You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.

"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."

Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.

Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.

Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.

Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.

All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"

And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.

You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.

A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.

All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?

Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.

"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.

"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.

"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.

Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."

Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.

"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.

Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.

"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.

Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.

Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.

"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.

"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.

"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.

They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.

It's been a while.

Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.

In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.

She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.

Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.

"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.

Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."

"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.

Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.

Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.

The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.

"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."

Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."

Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.

"It's us against the world." You mumbled.

Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.

Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."

Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"

You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"

"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.

Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.

"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.

"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.

Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.

But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.

"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.

She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.

"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.

"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.

You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.

"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.

"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.

Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.

Our daughter is going to be just fine.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

bonus:

Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.

Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.

Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[bigification]

American Tourist

I sit near the start of the hike, waiting for my tour guide. It takes a while, but finally an older man comes out of a small hut and greets me.

"Hello, are you Markus?" The man asks.

"Yes, I'm here for the tour." I reply, getting up to shake his hand.

"Well let's get started." He says as he leads to the head of the trail.

The tour starts fairly normal. The man just points out small things along the trail like plants and wildlife. But he started to sprinkle in some small talk as well.

"It is not often we have Americans come on this tour." The man says.

The comment confuses me, as I'm from London and have a very obviously non American accent.

"Oh I'm from London, not America." I correct him.

"I must be confused, the big men like you tend to be from America." He replies.

I take it as a compliment, that he's calling me strong, but it still strikes me as odd.

"It must be cold back in America, for you to be wearing shorts and a button up in this weather." The man continues.

Again with the 'America' stuff, I don't know why he keeps insisting on this. Also I'm wearing a t shirt and jeans, I don't know why he said that. But I'm shocked when I look down and see that in wearing khaki shorts and a blue button up. I could have sworn I was wearing jeans, but I guess I was wrong.

"Ya, it is..." I just lead the man along, hoping he'll let it go.

"I hope you brought some sunscreen. Americans with light complexion like you tend to burn easily." He continues.

I don't know what he's on about this time, I literally have darker skin than him. And it's definitely not sunny enough today to burn me. I look down at my arms to see if I'm burnt, maybe that's why he made the comment. Though when I look down, I see white skin. What!? My arms, my legs, they're white. I pull out my phone and look at myself in the camera, my face is white and my hair has become straight. I should be more shocked, but the more I think about the more comfortable I am. This is how I've always looked, right?

"I'm shocked you're keeping up this well." The tour guide continues.

"What do you mean?" I ask, nearly out of breath. He just complimented how big I was, and now he's questioning my athleticism.

"Well Americans like you tend to think they can do a trail like this, but then have to stop half way through." He says as he slaps my stomach.

What does he mean by Americans like me? And why did he slap my stomach? I look down and see my previously flat stomach grow rounder and rounder. My button up stretches further and further as my stomach grows into a soft beer belly. My solid pecs also soften into a pair of moobs. I even feel my shorts tighten around my ass. I try to rearrange my dick to make my bulge less noticeable, but these shorts are way too small.

"Don't you worry my friend, I did football in college. Don't let this tank fool ya, I'm sure I can keep up just fine." I reply in a thick southern accent, still out of breath. I start to unbutton my shirt, hoping to beat the heat.

"I still don't know how you Americans can grow so much hair, it's like a forest in there." The man questions, pointing at my chest.

I look down at the thick pelt of hair covering my chest as I scratch my thick beard.

"Us American men, we've got plenty of testosterone. Makes us the men we are." I reply in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Look, we've made it to the top. You should be glad, not many people your age make it all the way up." The man congratulates me.

I don't know what he means by that comment, but I'm not that old. Besides I barely broke a sweat, I'm an athlete after all.