#i liked that they did bring her forward but i want MORE

[oklotea]

I was rewatching eah season one, and I got to the Maddie-in-chief episode. And OH MY GOD did this single episode hold so much potential as a full-fledged special.

Just imagine with me for a second, before EAH asks huge questions about autonomy, the true reality of Ever Afterian society, or what secrets lie in Milton Grimm's head, they make a point to truly bring your attention to the underlying classism and favoritism in ever after.

It could have been the first crack that would eventually lead to them questioning Milton Grimm even further, and finding Giles, and eventually finding out the storybook of legends had been a fake.

AND OTHER SUCH IDEAS, I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!

We could have gotten the chance to develop Maddie's character further. They had strongly implied that Maddie was much more smarter than what you may first assume, what is it with that? How do those skills properly show themselves? Not just in debate, but on a daily basis? How is Maddie intellectual in a way only the wonderlandians can see? And better yet, how has the people in ever after high chose to neglect her and her skills?

THIS HYPOTHETICAL SPECIAL COULD HAVE BEEN AN AMAZING TIME TO ESTABLISH THE WONDERLAND CURSE AND HOW KITTY, MADDIE, AND LIZZIE HAVE BEEN DISPLACED FOR A GOOD HALF OF THEIR LIFE!!!!!!!

It could have been such a great moment to make the audience care about Maddie, and possibly the wonderlandians, even further.

We could have gotten Apple's first bit of character development, found in her earnestly looking at the non-royal characters as people equal to her, because let's be real, if we looked at the way she saw non-royals/commoners in the first book as something to build off of, it obviously comes off as disingenuous.

Maybe at the first half of the story, Apple is very sweetly and discreetly underestimating Maddie. Maybe going on behind her back about how, even though she admires Maddie's bravery, she doubts there'll even be any competition.

Only for as the special goes on, Apple watches how Maddie is actually a very talented, formidable and driven opponent

How will they show this?????? UHHHHH I HAVEN'T FIGURED THAT OUT YET

BUT COMPETENT, AND GENUINELY DEPENDABLE STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT CANDIDATE MADDIE IS A CONCEPT THAT COULD BE SOOOO SO JUICY

Like.... She's the kind of person who could be handed over an entire pile of student council work, the likes of which even sends a shiver down Apple White's spine, but thanks to the effects of wonderland, and wonderlandian photographic memory (I have no idea if that's a thing that only Lizzie has in wonderlandiful world but...... BUT LET ME COOK!!!! AGRHEGRGSVD) MADDIE IS DEPENDABLE, SHE HAS SKILLS THAT SHOW HER POTENTIAL AS A STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT!!!!! And not only that, she's got a big heart, and she cares about her friends and fellow non-royals very deeply, and just, having a non-royal as a student council president would be a huge step forward before all the crazy shit that would eventually happen in the future webisodes and specials.

EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THE OG WEBISODE WOULD HAPPEN ONLY WITH THE STAKES MUCH MORE HIGHER, AND A MUCH MORE SERIOUS TONE

And Maddie decides herself that she wants to work alongside Apple, because she can see just how genuinely dedicated and talented Apple is, and with that, Apple's character development for the special is wrapped into a neat bow, and from then on her and Maddie being student council presidents is an IMPORTANT THING that gets BROUGHT UP

Like in Dragon Games, we could have hypothetically gotten Maddie walking up to Apple, sadly asking her how she could allow the dragon games to happen, and better yet how her mom can allow the evil queen to walk free!

Maddie requests that, since she doesn't have as much leverage over Snow White, how about Apple takes some action to stop the games and convince her mom to take the evil queen hostage once again?

Only for Apple to visibly be racking her brain, and snapping at Maddie, telling her she can't do that, and the games must go on.

It would have really sucked and it would have hurt and it would have been amazing.

That's just ONE example I've got on Apple and Maddie being co-presidents being acknowledged.

Apple and Maddie could have had a more defined dynamic.... It would have been interesting seeing two characters who are so drastically different in how they function being in such close proximity to one another, and having to work closely with each other!

Alright, my final point in proving to you maddie-in-chief should have been it's own special issss.......

JUST IMAGINE THE DOLLS

Here's what I have in mind,

Pin striped suit Madeline Hatter

Pillbox hat, pencil skirt Apple White

VERY MUCH PRESIDENT ELECTION CODED

I jotted down some scrappy sketches to show you what I mean

It's not the best, I spent like, 5 minutes on it, but YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYINH

YOU DO

I TRUST THAT YOU DO

THEY'RE BOTH WEARING SASHES THAT HAVE EACH OF THEIR SLOGANS ON

Maddie obviously wearing a sash that says, "Hats over Crowns" Cause that's iconic

And Apple wears something more, idk royally conservative???!???? Something with the sentiment that, the Royal way is the better way, OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. YOU GET IT.

And we're not stopping with just Maddie and Apple! Even though they are both the crown jewels of this student council president election doll line (someone come up with a better name, god bless), the rest of the line consists of a handful of Apple supporters, and a hatful of Maddie supporters. Their groupies, per se.

All of them in dresses or suits, whatever it is, very much business formal, or business casual, they all look quite prim!

That's all I got so far on the maddie-in-chief special concepts.

If anyone wants to build upon them, by all means do so!!!! I would love to see what you people come up with!!! :D

Alrighth, take care everyone. Thanks for making it this far

[rootedinrevisions]

Breaking an Already Broken Heart

SUMMARY: Struggling with a failing marriage and reeling from Tyler’s betrayal, she confronts him at a bar after learning he had been secretly involved with a mutual friend for years. Already heartbroken from her own relationship problems, the revelation shatters her further. Despite her anger and hurt, she finds herself leaning on Tyler, who, despite being the source of her pain, is also her best friend and the only one who can hold her together.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I said I was going to take a few days away from writing, and I do still plan on taking a lot of time the next four days for my mental health so I can't guarantee when or if there will be any more stuff coming until next week. But writing is almost therapeutic to me so I decided to see if it would help. I couldn't sleep, so I wrote this last night at about 3am, and I wanted to share it.

WARNINGS: Angst. Like the kind that hits you right in the chest and gut.

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The bar was one of those unassuming places—the kind of spot where the lights were low, the air was thick with the scent of old wood and spilled beer, and the music was just loud enough to drown out the noise in her head. It was familiar, too familiar. She and Tyler had spent more nights here than she could count, back when things were simple—back when she didn’t know about him and their mutual friend.

Now, it felt different. The weight of the truth sat heavily in her chest as she nursed her drink, trying to push back the sting of betrayal that clawed at her throat. Tyler was beside her, quiet. His presence, usually calming, only added to the turmoil inside her.

He knew she was upset, knew the revelation had rocked her. But Tyler was never one to push. He just waited, like always, his hand resting lightly on the back of her chair, a silent promise that he was still there, still her best friend, despite everything.

She took another sip, the alcohol burning its way down her throat, but it did nothing to dull the ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was quieter than she intended, the hurt slipping through despite her efforts to keep it hidden. She didn’t look at him, couldn’t bring herself to.

Tyler shifted in his seat, and she felt his eyes on her. His fingers brushed the small of her back, a touch so familiar, but now it felt different—like a reminder of all the things unsaid between them. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” He admitted, his voice low.

She let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face him. “Well, congrats. You did.”

The weight of her words hung between them. Tyler’s hand remained on her chair, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on the wood, a habit she hadn’t noticed before. His silence frustrated her, but she wasn’t sure what she expected him to say. There wasn’t an apology in the world that would fix this, not when the hurt went so deep.

“I know I messed up,” he said finally, his voice thick with regret. “And I’m sorry. But…” He sighed, shaking his head like he was trying to gather the right words. “I didn’t know it would affect you like this.”

She blinked at him, her frustration rising. “How could it not? You’ve been sleeping with her for years, Tyler. And I’ve been here—your friend, your… whatever we were. I thought I knew you. I thought…” Her voice faltered, breaking as the pain surged forward. “I thought I mattered.”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, without a word, he reached for her drink and set it aside, replacing it with a glass of water. “Drink this,” he said softly.

The weight of everything crashed down on you the second Tyler placed the glass of water in front of her. It wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the years of lies that had unraveled in one night, breaking the fragile trust between them. It was the fact that she was already shattered—cracks from her marriage splintering her heart long before the mutual friend threw the truth about her and Tyler into the mix.

She stared at the water, feeling the tears build at the corners of her eyes. Her marriage was hanging by a thread, and she’d spent so long pretending it was salvageable, clinging to the hope that maybe things could still work. But deep down, she knew it was over. Every fight, every cold shoulder from her husband, every too-friendly message between him and "just a friend" had left her feeling small and discarded. 

Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not,” he said, still calm, still steady. “But you’ll feel like shit if you keep drinking on an empty stomach.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but she drank the water anyway. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked out for her, and she hated how much she needed it now. She was angry–angry at him, angry at the situation, angry at herself for still wanting him to be the one who held her together when she felt like she was falling apart.

She had come to Tyler tonight because she needed her best friend—the one person who always made her feel like she wasn’t unraveling at the seams. But now, he had made it worse. He had broken a heart that was already broken.

The silence between the two felt heavier now, suffocating almost. Tyler hadn’t said a word since his confession, but he didn’t have to. She could feel his guilt in the way his hand stayed at the back of her chair, tentative, like he was scared she might pull away completely if he pushed too hard.

“I didn’t need this,” she said, finally breaking the silence, her voice shaking as she struggled to hold back the tears. “Tyler, I’m already dealing with my marriage falling apart. I’m barely holding myself together, and now this? You’ve been lying to me, too.”

He flinched at her words but stayed quiet, his gaze heavy with remorse. She knew he wasn’t one to offer excuses, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. She was unraveling, and the one person she thought she could count on had yanked another thread loose.

“I don’t even know what hurts more,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The fact that my husband might be cheating on me, or that you—you, of all people—have been sleeping with her behind my back for four years. I don’t even care that you slept with her. I haven’t cared about who you sleep with in years. But you hiding it from me? For this long? It feels like a joke. A really cruel joke.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. If she did, she knew the tears would spill over, and wasn’t ready for that. Not here. Not in front of him.

Tyler shifted beside her, his hand resting more firmly against her back, grounding her. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you. I swear I didn’t.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, you did. And the timing couldn’t be worse.” She took a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “You have no idea how tired I am, Tyler. How exhausted I am from pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

“I know you’re hurting,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry I added to it. If I could take it back, I would.”

She swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. “The worst part is, you were the one person I thought would always be there when everything else fell apart. I didn’t expect to lose you too.”

For a moment, the two of them just sat there, the weight of everything unsaid settling between them. His fingers brushed the small of her back again, and this time, the touch felt like an apology. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

"You don't have to lose me too. I still want to be here for you. If you'll let me."

Without thinking, she leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, the need for comfort winning over her anger. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to fix anything anymore.”

Tyler’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer. “You don’t have to fix it all,” he said softly. “Not right now.”

She sat like that for a while, the silence stretching between them, but this time it felt different. Less tense, more familiar, like the years of friendship were still there, holding them together despite the cracks.

When her favorite song came on, Tyler shifted beside her, pulling away just enough to catch her eye. “Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand like he had countless times before.

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, unsure whether to accept, but something inside her caved. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling the sharp edges of her anger, or maybe it was the familiarity of his presence, but she let him pull her to her feet.

The music was slow, and before she knew it, his hands were on her waist, and her head was resting against his chest. She hated how safe it felt, how his arms around her made her feel like maybe, for just a second, everything wasn’t falling apart.

As they swayed together, she closed her eyes and let herself speak. “I should hate you, Tyler.”

“I know,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

“But I can’t,” she confessed, the words barely a whisper.

“I know,” he repeated, his grip tightening around her just a little, like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of her together.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I’m so hurt,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But I can’t lose you. Not now. I need you, Tyler. You’re the only one who can keep me from falling apart.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her against him as if he could somehow shield her from everything breaking down around her. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I’ve always got you.”

And for the rest of the song, he held her close, like he was trying to be the one constant in a life that felt like it was slipping out of control. For now, it was enough. Maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not forever, but for this moment, she let herself lean on him, letting the pain and confusion blur into the background as his arms wrapped around her.

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to @pickonerain! You've been an absolute star to me and seeing as you love Sherry, here's her little addition to the story 😇

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Divergence

It was not like Claire and Leon to hide from you, but somehow they had ended up right at the other end of the room, far away from the counter, out of sight. They seemed deep in conversation, their expressions grim, and Leon was gripping his porcelain cup so tight you were afraid it would shatter to bits in his hand.

Curiosity—or rather, nosiness—got the better of you, and you scooted closer to the couple, pretending to sweep the area so you could listen in more easily.

“This was why you wanted to meet me, Claire?”

“Isn’t it important enough? I don’t get why you’re being so defensive!”

“I thought you wanted to catch up over coffee, not use me for one of your schemes!”

“Use you? Are you even listening to yourself? How does bringing down that son of a bitch count as ‘using you’?

“Chief Irons probably had a good reason, and all these rumors—”

“Rumors? There’s cold, hard evidence! We just need that one missing piece—”

“No! Forget it.”

“What?”

“I’m not getting involved.”

“So, this is it, huh? You go your way, and I go mine?”

“I…”

“I’m embarrassed I even called you a friend.”

Kicking out her chair, Claire threw down a couple of bills on the table before storming out in a fit of rage, slamming the front door behind her. 

Before you could even react, Leon had beaten you to it. “Don’t look at me like that,” he chided, though he had ducked his face away, red with shame. “I know you heard everything. You weren’t exactly being very stealthy.”

“That was never really my strong suit,” you admitted. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest,” he said, motioning to the seat beside him, still unable to look you in the eye.

Spying his half-finished drink on the table, now cold, you resisted the urge to get up and fix it, knowing there were other things he needed more in that moment. So, you continued to sit with him, and even though you did not exchange any words, you breathed together, content with sharing in each other’s company until he was ready to speak.

“Do you think I’m naive?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Maybe I’m scared that I am,” he confessed, his voice small and tired. “What if I’m wrong? What if Claire’s wrong?”

Cradling his cheek in your hand, you caressed it softly. He didn’t protest, but leaned in indulgently, nuzzling his nose against your palm like a deer. Then, something clicked internally and he broke away, straightening up in his seat as though he had not just given in to his desires a moment ago. However, this time, his face was angled towards you, waiting.

“What does your gut feeling say?” you put forward. “I’d trust that.”

He hesitated, taking a deep breath as he stared off into the distance, gathering his thoughts. “A snake oil salesman—that’s one way of putting it.”

“Chief Irons,” he clarified. “Whenever I get close to something nasty, he throws me off scent.”

Another hunter—a more seasoned one, you observed.

“I guess you have your answer.”

He collapsed into the backrest of the armchair and exhaled, as though a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I’ll figure it out,” he stated, mostly to himself.

“I know you will,” you said encouragingly.

He had chosen the more difficult path, but at least he had made peace with it and was no longer in denial about Chief Irons’ deception. That was definitely a step in the right direction.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.”

Once again, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It felt nice like this, as though your very thoughts and beings were connected.

“I want to know more about you,” he professed out of the blue. “But somehow, you always manage to steer the conversation back to me.”

You gulped, fiddling with your hands. “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything,” he murmured. “Your backstory, your favorite color, what do you do outside of work…” he trailed off.

“I’m not used to talking about myself,” you spelled out.

He grinned cheekily, as if the battle had already been won. “Don’t worry, I’m a good listener.”

And so, you yielded to him, letting things unfold as they should. Hours passed while you shared tales and secrets over cups of spiced tea with sweet milk. The flavors of cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg swirled around your tongue, bringing to mind the warm, inviting breeze of a coastal town near the Red Sea.

“There’s many names for it,” you explained, circling the rim of the cup with your finger lazily. “But I know it as Shai Adeni.”

Leon nestled his chin in his hand, propping his elbow on the table as he gazed at you, captivated. “Incredible.”

“Hmm?” You were not sure if he had registered what you had just said.

Reaching out, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you close. His heated breath moist against your flushed skin, and the scent of his cologne was dizzying. “You’re—”

The door chime jingled.

Both of you jolted, separating yourselves away from each other in a flash, as your eyes fell upon a little girl standing shyly by the entrance. She was dressed in a school uniform, her hair neatly swept back with a headband into a braided bun.

“Hey there,” you greeted, brushing your hands against your apron as you stood up, shuffling past Leon towards her. “Would you like something to drink?”

At this, she nodded enthusiastically, following you to the counter to grab a seat. As you infused white chocolate into milk with a good dollop of citrus, you exchanged looks with Leon, who held the same concerns as you.

Sliding over another high chair adjacent to hers, he gently opened with, “Hey, I’m Leon. You got a name, pumpkin?”

She wrinkled her nose and grimaced at the nickname. “Sherry,” she replied timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Sherry,” Leon said, shaking hands before he continued, “So, it’s really late, huh? Do your parents know where you are?”

She twiddled her thumbs, swinging her dangling legs back and forth on the chair. “They don’t care,” she said finally. “They’re busy.”

“What do your parents do?”

“They work at Umbrella. They’re making important new medicine,” she revealed proudly.

“Sounds like a tough job,” Leon empathized.

After sprinkling the glittery icing sugar on her drink, you set it before her with a flourish. “Voilà, your Yuzu Meringue, Miss Sherry.”

She giggled at your performance and slurped down the foamy surface. “Mmm!”

“Good, huh?” Leon gave her a side smile.

“Tell you what, Sherry,” you began, “when you finish your drink, my friend Leon here will take you home, okay?”

Her nose was dusted with powder and the cup was still covering half of her face as her eyes darted towards the man.

“He’s a good cop, you’ll be safe with him,” you reassured her. 

Scribbling down your shop’s telephone number on a piece of scrap paper, you handed it to her. “Keep this, you can call me anytime you need to.”

Taking it, she pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly as she stuffed it away into her pocket. “Can I—” she paused, “can I come here whenever I want? You and Leon are nice.”

A pang of loneliness hit you. You sensed it from the tone of her voice and what was left unsaid. It didn’t seem like she had many friends and you wondered about it.

“Please?” she begged, interrupting your thoughts.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you said warmly. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thank you!” she squealed, running over to give you a quick hug before taking Leon by the hand.

Turning to you, a rosy hue spread across his face as he smiled meekly. “So… uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“See you tomorrow, as usual, Leon.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[thomine]

i care more to be loved : kaveh

pair: kaveh / reader info: general audiences, consumption of alcohol (mentioned in passing), off-screen kiss scene, nonlinear narrative (numbering system in place to help make sense of time but scenes are intentionally in that order), dysfunctional relationship, canon compliant, angst (with a hopeful ending?), not proofread

summary: you don't believe you found love but you found kaveh. that's close to love, right?

word count: 5.4k links: read on ao3 / work tag notes: um. not i'm not really back from hiatus. yes that's a little women (2019) quote. you may read the author's commentary for more info.

ONE.

There should be a word to describe those like you who withdraw from social gatherings. You don't hate people so you aren't anti-social, and it's not like you don't hang out with others—forming connections is your job. You are the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. There are just some days you cannot bring yourself to keep up, and today is one of them. While your social circle is partying at Lambard's Tavern, you sneak out of your house into the forest beside Sumeru City with a small container of snacks and some textile. A lonely picnic it will be, but loneliness is not the issue here. Neither is hunger, but you have to keep yourself occupied.

You find a comfortable spot under shade with a beautiful view of the setting sun and lay out a shoddy sheet of straw before placing a mat over it. It's a cloth given to you by your mother after scoring well, although her face when you declared you weren't joining the Akademiya made you feel she regretted getting you anything in the first place. This mat does cost a lot so you keep it pristine to honour her efforts.

The container that keeps your food warm is also a gift, one you bought yourself after years of eyeing it through windows. It is nicer when it is on display, but you don't regret buying it. It is practical and you'll give credit to where its due despite the miscellaneous inconveniences in its design.

Once you've settled in a comfortable spot facing west, you watch as the last light of the day diminishes. This is—what you like to believe—a refuge, but your worries never cease to leave you. You wonder what your friends are doing at the tavern. Probably drinking their life away while jostling and cheering. Having fun. Playing games. Enjoying the atmosphere. Putting their best foot forward.

For love.

Like artists musicians that decorate the streets on festive nights, awaiting tips and change to drop into their hats.

As your brain depressingly quips with itself, you can't hear footsteps from behind. It is only when a shadow covers you that you take note you are not alone, and also realise you have been crying.

"I hope I'm not disturbing?" the uninvited voice asks, gently. When you turn (after wiping your tears as discretely as you can), you meet a blonde man with warm eyes made even warmer with the shine of sunset. He kneels to meet you at eye level as you present your business smile. "I saw your mat and I was wondering where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" You stand, uncomfortable with his gesture of kneeling to meet your gaze. You wear your shoes and step off the object he's interested in so he has a full view. "It was imported from Inazuma. They sell the finest textiles so I'm not surprised it caught your attention. Want to try sitting on it? Oh, but please take off your sandals."

The man seems to be half-listening as he straightens. You wonder if your eyes are puffy to give away your earlier misery, but other than his intrepid stare directed at you, he's fixed on the mat.

"And how much would it cost? Are you still in contact with the merchant? Wait, before we continue let me introduce myself." He extends his hand for a handshake. "I'm Kaveh, an architect. I'm building a large mansion nearby and will also be in-charge of designing its interior. Such a mat would look wonderful among the furniture I plan to get."

You look around, unsure why you haven't seen any construction. Was it approved or is this guy just lofty? Regardless, you exchange pleasantries. After giving your name, you add, "I'm afraid I do not have the particulars of the merchant. My mother bought this for me"—you hope you don't look constipated—"but we are not in contact so I can't help you trace the mat's source."

"A pity," he says, shoulder slouching. "Sumeru textiles would work but I really like this design."

Again, it's not that you dislike people, but you really want to be alone right now. You look at the mat, memories of a distant past weigh heavy in your throat. It would be nice to say goodbye to it once and for all.

"You can have it." Grabbing the edges, you fold the textile as he gawks. "I don't use it other than as a mat when I'm outside—which isn't frequent. Hearing what you have planned, you'll make better use of it. I'll just get another one."

"But this is from your mother, isn't it? Wouldn't you want to keep it for that reason alone?"

You pass the rolled up mat to him with a lopsided smile. "Oh, it's just a mat to me. Don't worry about it and don't think too much of this. See you."

You then pick up your barely touched food and trudge back home before he can reject your offer.

⠀

⠀

TWO.

You hear someone call your name. It's your name, yes, but still unfamiliar on the tongue of this person. The first thought that comes to you is that it is a client, but clients don't address you by your name. Only your nickname. That's how you differentiate your personal and professional circles. All personal connections eventually mix with your profession, so they handle your name like experts. Vowels and consonants wrapped in a specific tone. This is fairly… friendly.

There was someone you met recently… you try to recall that moment but it doesn't appear until you are face to face with a blonde man with warm eyes.

Ah, Kaveh.

To his luck, you are chirpier than when he last met you. With energy to perform, you smile brightly and greet him, although your pronunciation is off as one would for new names. He doesn't seem to mind though.

"Glad to bump into you," he huffs while leaning over, supporting his upper body with hands on his knees. You let out a small laugh.

"I wouldn't call you running to greet me as bumping into me."

"Don't take it the wrong way, I wasn't stalking you or anything. I just saw you walk down this street and thought I'd say hi."

This man is puzzling. First, he claims to be building something large near where you were seated, and yet with your purview of the land you see not a single construction. Then, he runs towards you just to say hi. Is saying hi to someone you barely know that important?

"Well, um, hello then," you say, extending an arm for an awkward handshake. "How's your project so far?"

"It's…" he clears his throat. "The mat you gave me was perfect. I should really thank you. Should we have a meal together? My treat."

"No need to treat. I just had lunch with my friends. I was heading back, actually."

"Do you stay nearby?"

"Relatively close. What about you?"

"Um, I stay nearby as well."

Something is definitely up with this guy.

"Is there anything else?" you ask as you place your hands on your hips. "I'm sure you're busy yourself."

"Let me treat you at least once. Whenever you're free."

You don't understand why he's so insistent, but it reminds you of desperate clients even more desperate to keep their business afloat. They always have something to offer in hopes it can gain them something of greater value. Not that you are great at weighing these deals, but emotionally, you play this game everyday. Perhaps giving him the mat was a habitual act of the same principle. You hoped giving him the mat will grow something, and this may be your chance to harvest it.

How tiring, but isn't that necessary? Condition and reward. Didn't he say he was building a mansion? You might want someone of such caliber in your books.

"I'll take up that offer for a meal, but you don't have to pay for it." You take out a paper and pen to jot your address. "Tomorrow, dinner? I'll cook."

Once again, before Kaveh can react, you make your leave. You dissolve into the crowded street, wondering what will bloom from this.

⠀

⠀

FIVE.

You still don't know where Kaveh lives after a year, but he surely knows how to make your house like his own. You did not expect to have common interests, and his philosophies intrigue you enough to not be bored. When he doesn't appear on Fridays, you are surprised, but even then you don't push for details or a reason the next time he comes over. His life is his life and yours is yours.

You know he keeps his secrets such as details of the project (which grants him highs and lows, as all things do) while you keep your worries private. To meet him more frequently means nothing, at least that's what you believe.

"What are we?" Kaveh asks one quiet evening as you tear through your dinner. He has become such a staple in your life silence feels comfortable. His question, however, rips the atmosphere like you and your meal. You tongue feels heavy as your mind replay scenes that happened last week. He tried to bring it up once too, but the moment you expressed discomfort, he surrendered. It seems the water in the kettle has finally reached its boiling point.

"What do you mean? What else can we be?"

"Do friends really do what we do?" he probes. You give him a quizzical look, daring him to be clear. "Are you going to deny our kiss last week?"

"You stayed over and we got drunk. That's all that happened." You bite your lips. You had hoped the weekend would mean he would forget everything somehow. "You were lonely. I was lonely. That's all there is to it."

"So the kiss meant nothing." He looks forlorn, slouching in his chair as his legs sprawl under the table, as if he's as exhaled like a flattened balloon. "Why do you do this to me?" he asks, voice wavering. "Are my feelings for you not clear?"

You place your cutlery down and wipe your mouth. You lost your appetite. "I'm not here to discuss this. I'm going to go for a walk."

As you stand, so does Kaveh. He gets up with such force his chair falls back. It is a chair he bought for himself after he ruined yours. Not his fault. The chair was going to give way anyways. This chair, though, is handpicked by him to match whatever miserable mess of furniture you have. It isn't costly, but no one sits on it other than Kaveh.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist. You flinch but do not pull away.

"You should head back home and sleep too. Maybe you just aren't in the right mind," you mumble. "You did drink yourself dead because of stress so you should rest."

"You kissed me. I can't just wake up next day and pretend everything is fine. You know how I feel about you."

"I already told you I was lonely, okay? Do you really want to be with someone who uses you because you're conveniently here? And it's not like you actually like me either."

"Why do you keep saying that? You don't know how I feel."

"I know. I know the game we play. If I didn't give you the mat that very day I would be a stranger to you even now. If I didn't show you any kindness you would have hated me. Don't you get it Kaveh? This world is based on conditions, and every condition I've set such that you'll like me. I've trapped you like a rat and I let you delude me to believing lies."

"What are you talking about?" Kaveh's voice is as scratchy as sandpaper. It doesn't sit right to see such a a pretty face this distressed. "If you say I'm stressed you must be too. Nothing from your mouth makes sense. Tell me, what's bothering you? We can work it through." He grabs your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. A gesture you've gotten used to—indulgently. He first held your hand like this when you were sick. How comforting it was but now it repulses you, yet not enough to reject his warmth still.

"Kaveh, listen to me. The moment you don't get what you want from me, you're going to walk out of this door. You don't love me. You love the conditions I set. It is like a prey falling for a predator's tricks."

"Then say you don't love me."

You swallow.

"So by your logic the reason you kissed me is because I helped you through your loneliness. Have you wondered maybe you caused it upon yourself? You keep such a distance with your friends, they don't even know about me."

"What are you implying?"

"Maybe you do love me. You can treat me as you do with your friends. Avoid me, isolate yourself, but you invite me even to your pity parties. Can you really say I'm a prey, or am I someone who willingly walked into your den for I know you aren't the predator you believe you are."

"Kaveh, please stop. You don't know me. I'll give you away as quickly as I gave the mat. You do not want to be involved with me."

You jerk your hand out of his grasp. As usual, you leave Kaveh faster than he can react. After your hour trek through the forest you return to an empty house with an empty heart.

Pity party? Pft. You definitely don't host pity parties. The moments you choose to be away from your friends are moments you regain your energy to fight the world. It is difficult to keep having to present yourself as lovable. To have someone like Kaveh accompany you through these times means nothing.

It doesn't mean anything.

⠀

⠀

SIX.

You were right. Kaveh doesn't return the next Friday, or the Friday after that. As if you've unplugged a lifeline, he doesn't exist. You don't even see him around the streets he normally hangs around.

"You seem upset," a friend of yours say. She is the owner of a small cafe situated in the bazaar. A friend from your youth you know you have to maintain good relations with. Her coffee isn't to your liking but they have won awards. In fact, brewing coffee is not her only strength. She is good at gathering intel.

"Am I?" you force a laugh. "Must be the lack of sleep. Work has been piling up as of late."

She sips her tea as you observe the stillness of yours. Rich brown liquid. Warm to touch. Memories of Kaveh's hands wrapped around yours ignite your chest with sorrow. You swallow it with your drink.

"I heard that you seldom visit the bazaar to buy dinner," your friend inquires. Of course she will turn her tricks to you. "I'm not saying you can't get your food anywhere else, but I do recall you recommending Jut's dishes. Fast and delicious for anyone working over time."

"Have you met him? I told him of your recently opened store and he said he would drop by. Wouldn't it be cool if there was a collaboration between the two of you?"

"You know when to find a business opportunity when you see one. As expected for someone who scored well in the exams."

"You just like to flatter people, don't you? You scored even higher. My mum never shut ups about it, and I believe she'll still bring it up even now."

"But my networks aren't as wide. You truly know how to rope people with that smile of yours. Not to mention you're always too kind for your own good. Thanks for the free sponsor, by the way."

You ease a laugh, glad to have the topic changed. "Oh don't mention it. It was a discounted deal anyways." You finish your drink and decide it is time to leave, but your friend's next words hold you prisoner.

"I was wondering if you've heard of Kaveh?"

"…What about him?"

"So you do know him."

"Bumped into him once. Said he was working on a big mansion in the forest. What about him? Are you going to ask if I can help you connect with him?"

"Not really. Not professionally at least. I think he's charming… he stopped by my store once"—of course, because you told him to give her stall a try—"and was so nice. He's so pretty, don't you agree?"

You pull your head back as you force a laugh so she can't see the way your eyes wrinkle with remorse.

"If I can get in contact with him, I'll let you know. I have to go first though." You gesture to your finished drink. "Thanks for the drink."

She stands with you and edges close with arms open. You lean to give her a hug. Before she can remember to ask for anything more, you're out of the bazaar.

⠀

⠀

THREE.

You truly are a person with no qualifications other than a disappointed mother and an award-winning smile. You put on masks and play pretend, trying to inflate your credentials so others will believe you are lovable. You can be loved. You will be loved.

But what if you're just a singular person who stares at sunset with a container of home made food while you let your thoughts powered by self-deprecating rot and doubt to run wild? Will you still be lovable then? It is a question that grips you even more than death itself.

You are a beggar at the mercy of those that pass by. Your hands empty and shivering. Love me, you cry. What I give is the feeling of superiority. The feeling that you're doing something good. In return I want you to love me.

Can you really say, then, that someone will love you for who you are? Would there not be this underlying feeling that they chose you out of pity?

You know people will be at your funeral, but will it be for you?

"So you were crying the day I met you," Kaveh says as he appears from behind. You have invited him to join your picnic, but he's late and your thoughts have grown to be a beast that demands your tears. "Sorry, that's not a good entrance. I didn't mean to be a busybody."

You wipe your wet eyes, uncaring of being discrete as you have been caught. Kaveh brought along more food. He unpacks them on your new plain mat.

"No, I'm thankful you didn't say anything that day," you note. "I don't think I wanted you to point it out. Would have ruined my mood even more."

Kaveh takes the spot you've prepared for him, leaning on his hand positioned behind to get a good view of the sky. He's still a stranger—in some sense—but a very welcoming one at that. There is something about the way he treats you that makes you feel you can trust him with your secrets. Not that you will share it with him. He's only come over for dinner the past month. Your friendship with him is developing faster than you'd like, but when he does things like randomly send you letters because something reminded him of the conversation over dinner or when he buys your favourite ice cream because it was on sale and he remembered you, it's hard not to grow fond of him.

In your area of business you should return such gestures, but he somehow makes himself indebted to you. You've never have the scale balanced when it comes to him. Perhaps inviting him into your private moment is your attempt at leveling what he skewed. Maybe this is part of his greater plan—he'll count these blessings as a means to an end, but for once, you aren't doing business. It never feels like it with him.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" he asks after a moment of silence. You shake your head. "Fair enough. Sitting down to watch the sunset is already easing my own stress."

"You really didn't have to do all of this, by the way," you motion at the food he bought and laid out. So much for trying to make things even. "I told you I was going to cook."

"But it's to celebrate!"

"Celebrate?"

"To us being friends. You've helped me so much and now you're inviting me to a picnic? Surely this means we're getting closer. Plus, look over there." He points to something in the distance. You move closer to him to see his line of view and notice bright colours poking from the canopy of the forest. "That's my project and we've finally started construction. Surely this is a moment to celebrate."

"I'm really happy for you."

You lean your head against his shoulder briefly, like a nudge. The smile on your face is small, but it's sincere.

⠀

⠀

FOUR.

Kaveh is acting strange. He is outside the door but he has yet to knock. He's mumbling things to himself and you feel tempted to open it just to scare him as a lesson to not talk to himself outside your door, but you've yet to clean the living room. He comes in like a storm and places his things everywhere. It's not that you mind though. It's just embarrassing to have him know you keep the house as he left it as evidence that you aren't alone.

Finally, his long-anticipated knock comes. You yell for him to wait as you finish the final touches and swiftly open the door. Tonight, you cooked The Endeavour in hopes to rival the one he made for you last week. It is an intricate piece of art disguised as the dish Fatteh. Only he can come up with something as extravagant as that, so you're not trying to beat him in presentation but taste.

You open the door, anticipation bursting in your eyes.

"You won't believe what I—"

"I love you and I—"

You blink, staring blanking at your favourite flowers covering your view. When you push it down to see Kaveh, his face is flushed. His eyes avoid you, and he seems to have regretted saying anything at all with the way he bites his lips.

"Did I ruin it?" he mumbles, free hand covering his face as the other pushes the bouquet into your arms, as if to say he wants you to carry the embarrassment away. "Was this bad timing?"

You gingerly take the bouquet and usher him in before he decides to run away.

"Let's… have dinner first."

You place the bouquet on the table in the living room as you bring out dinner.

"What was it you wanted to say?" Kaveh fidgets with his hands, voice strained with worry. "You sounded really excited."

"It's this," you say with less enthusiasm than you expected. "I loved what you brought me last week and I wanted to try making it too. It can't rival your presentation, but I hope it's edible."

"It's lovely." The compliment doesn't reach his eyes. Not that he doesn't believe what he's saying. They're just busy with other emotions as they intrusively search your expression. You try to keep it normal.

"Dig in," you chirp, pointing towards the dish that, when you think about it, is a poor rendition of what Kaveh gave you. "Let me know what you think."

He takes a bite and slowly the conversation buries his confession. You're back to laughing while he's rambling. The bouquet of flowers sits on the table without water—withering, if you may put it—while you and Kaveh's relationship continues to grow.

That night, you lay in bed wondering what his words mean.

What have you done?

⠀

⠀

SEVEN.

"The Palace of Alcazarzaray has been destroyed by the withering." News headline reads in bold. You stare at the paper, wondering why the name of the mansion rings a bell. You read on and you gasp when you see his name.

"…the architect, Kaveh…"

Your eyes dig into the words to extract every piece of information you can. Although he never told you the details of the project, it was undeniable how much passion and love he had for it. Talking about the project was always a gateway for him to share about his past, present, and even future. He told you of his time at the Akademiya, his parents, his dreams and aspirations. To have this project fail broke your heart knowing his has been broken.

Is that the reason he has been avoiding you? Was that the reason he arrived at your house multiple times looking worse than before? The reason he drank so much that night which you half-joked was because of the project really was the reason. Your kiss must have caused his mind to enter a flurry that pulled him under.

What have you done?

They say love does not make you think straight. Can you blame it on love or is this solely your selfish doing?

You don't wait for the answer as you scramble out of your door after grabbing your essentials. You have to find Kaveh, figure out how much he owns and how he's doing. You have to help him in one way or another if not who knows what will happen to him—

But you don't find him. He finds you instead. He's a few meters away from your door, approaching you with bloodshot eyes. You sigh, an act of relief but also concern, as you walk towards him.

"It's been long," you say after greeting him, unable to meet him in the eye. "I heard about the project. I want to help."

"No."

"What?" You raise your head and look at him, dumbfounded. "Why not? If you need money, I have some."

"I know you'll say that, but I cannot accept it."

"Why not? I don't want to see you"—you gesture towards all of him—"like this." For someone who tries to keep himself well kept, he is disheveled beyond recognition. Hair a mess, attire robbed to a plain t-shirt and pants that cover him decently. He looks pathetic, like a beggar, and who loves to see someone in such a state? Saviour complex or not, you know you can help him, and you will. "Come inside. Let's discuss it there. You look famished. I'll cook up something for you and—"

He calls your name. You still remember the first time he reached out to you on that busy street. How different your personal name was on his tongue compared to others. That friendliness has never left. In fact, it grew fonder over time. You should have noticed his feelings before he announced it, but maybe you were hoping it wasn't true. Now, he says your name dripping in tenderness and you want to scream.

Don't do this to me, you think as you drag him in your house regardless. I don't need you to remind me of your feelings. Of how I hurt you.

Once the door closes, as you're about to leave to prepare him a warm cup of coffee, he grabs your hand.

"I'm here to let you know I'm not accepting any help from you, and my feelings will remain."

"You're crazy. What are you going to—"

"You said that I only like you for your kindness, for the things you did. I'm here to let you know even if you don't show me an inch of kindness, I'll still love you."

"You shouldn't do that. That's stupid. That's illogical—"

"But it's your logic." He leans closer, almost putting his entire body weight on you. It is at this proximity you smell the faint scent of alcohol. "If I can't prove it to you with my logic then I'll have to use yours."

"You're not thinking straight. Look, Kaveh, remember the great girl who runs a coffee shop in the bazaar? She wants to meet you. She can make better coffee than me, is more beautiful and smarter. Her business is expected to skyrocket after marketing and maybe you can get your funds from her too. You'll find better, more amazing people. You shouldn't waste your time trying to prove to me that you like me. You don't even have to prove to yourself you like me."

Kaveh stays quiet. He stops moving too. You would think he is dead but you've handled a drunk Kaveh more often that you'd like to admit. Thankful he stopped his thrashing. You drag him onto the sofa and begin making preparations for when he wakes. Medicine, food, maybe some contract for him to be your roommate.

However, when he wakes, he is even more adamant on his stance, and more logical to argue for it too.

At least he drinks your coffee and eats the meal you prepared for him: a simple bowl of cream soup. He devours it almost in an instant, and you wonder how long he's not eaten. Given his new skinnier frame, you're betting at least a full day.

"I'll make seconds." You take his bowl and turn to head to the kitchen but he denies you once again by grabbing your arm. You hate how difficult it is to shake him away. You hate how a part of you is happy he wants you to stay.

"That's enough. I am not a baby. You of all people should know this."

"Yes, but in your current state? I wouldn't say so."

He releases his grip and you return to your seat. He sits upright on the sofa, a good distance away from the flowers he bought for you now kept in a small vase.

"I know you're worried about me," he starts as he rests his hands on his thigh and looks at the floor.

"Yes, it isn't a very nice situation to be in." And I probably made it worse.

"But I have a plan. The overseers of this project will not abandon it, and I sold my house but I met up with Alhaitham who I will live with in the mean time."

"See? You never know when you'll need to pull strings with people you dislike."

"I don't dislike him. At least, him as a person. Just his views of others."

You chuckle. "Same thing, isn't it? What is a person without their views? Their passions? Their aspirations? That's who they are."

"Their flaws as well." He looks at you, warm eyes intense like a burning flame. You shy away from his gaze. "Thank you for your help," he clears his throat, probably embarrassed he fell on you like that while drunk. It's not the first, and you hope it's not the last.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"It's fine. I will deal with it myself and I'll show you what I mean."

Another question sits on your tongue. Will you continue to ignore me and only come to me during your drunken stupors?

But he beats you to it.

"I know this is a silly question, but why do you want to help me so badly? If you believe I was lured by your kindness, then why continue being kind to me?"

"I don't deny I'm selfish," you start as you look at the floor, tucking your feet closer to your body. "I do kind things so people are tethered to me. I don't want you to leave."

You give him a side glance, expecting some sort of disgust or distaste, but instead he looks solemn yet shocked. It's better than being judged or disgusted.

"I'm sorry, Kaveh," you whisper. "I don't think I'll ever love you the way you want me to. I don't know how that works."

"Then that's even more reason to not accept your help. I won't give up."

Silence except the ticking clock in your room. This time it's unnerving, but not in a bad way. You are aware of your breathing—chest rising up and down—while your heart rate quickens as heat gathers at your face. When did he have such an effect on you?

"Visit me even if you're in a pitiful, sorry state. Even if it's unbearable to see you the way you are right now. And even after that, when you've got your bearings, I still want to have dinner with you."

"I will be back," Kaveh announces as he stands. He smiles, satisfied.

author's note: as always thank you for making it until the end. this story came to me in a whirlwind of inspiration. whether you agree with reader's point of view or not, i do hope you come to realise that love, as tricky as it is, is also fairly simple because it is everywhere around us. it may not come in the form that we want but we shape the love we receive with our hands by changing ourselves. stay strong fellas (i am loosing my brain cells as we speak).

[garfieldsbong]

guys guys guysssss ok ok ok so why don’t we think about bianca x wednesday x enid, come on wednesday has two hands for a reason !!!

[socksonat3am]

Ngl, I honestly think that Jake Sully shouldn't make it to the end of the franchise.

Like...I understand WHY he's there but now we're out of the "audience needs to be shown all the things and introduced to them like babies" because now we have like...4+ of those types of characters now. We don't need the "white guy veteran" to lead a resistance forever.

I think his death could be REALLY neat for the story. Like...he's "the hero" and "the protector" so what do you do when that person dies? Someone else steps up to take his place, or MULTIPLE people do. It would also change the story from the antagonist standpoint. No more "we need to hunt Jake Sully because he is the leader of the resistance" and more focus on the pure and actual devastation that the invading colonial force is doing and how that impacts ALL the people being invaded.

Jake Sully as a vehicle for the audience isn't needed anymore. And his death could open SIGNIFICANTLY more impactful storylines than the one that leaving him alive leaves us with.

This is just my little rambling. I may add to it...

[faaun]

the way my heart sank . lol

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[cesium-sheep]

hm. it was always the plan for any other partners to be involved in the party wedding in some way, but I was rewatching tyler and safiya's wedding vlog and I think perhaps maybe since it's already not a legal ceremony anyway (since we did that part) and we're all kinda tangled up together at this point especially if he does get to move in with us next year, I think maybe. it might be worth considering making it a ceremony for all three of us. the only people who're likely to be invited who don't already know what the deal is are the pattys anyway afaik, and obviously all my people are totally chill with it (besides patty who flat out doesn't know) and should be down to play gentle enforcers if anyone gets weird.

anyway I'm gonna read some blog articles about throuple weddings and keep this thought to myself for a while longer. won't be relevant for at least 6 months, probably more like at least a year and a half, on account of arin's demanding residency schedule making her unable to like, even think about planning a wedding lol. and it's good to sit on these ideas for a little while anyway just to make sure they're shelf-stable.

it does mean we'd probably have to expect a number of children there tho, as he's very fond of his assorted niblings and would probably like having them there. (I only have one friend with a child rn and she's got many loving relatives to look after her if she didn't want to come, so.)

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2

[gghostwriter]

Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Special Diet. // Spencer Reid

Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.

“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.

You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”

Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.

“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.

Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”

“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”

JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”

“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.

“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.

The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”

Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”

You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”

Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”

“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.

“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.

Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”

Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”

There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.

“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.

Emily added on. “With boy genius?”

You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.

“We present to you, baby Reid!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[penelopepine]

Little Kicks

141 reacts to feeling the baby kick for the first time. 

Price: 

It's late at night and Price is helping you with your nightly routine. He helped with rubbing some soothing cream onto stomach; it was something he honestly looked forward to every night now. To feel your pregnant stomach under his palm is something he would never deny himself; not even for a second.

The bedroom is quiet; your eyes are closed and clearly enjoying his touch. At least that was until you suddenly wince in pain. Immediately Price is on alert, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Just-," you gasp and wince again, "Just the baby kicking me. "

Price releases a relieved breath hearing those words. He knows the little one has been more active as of late, and that the one light taps are slowly but surely getting harder.

"Here give me your hand! With how hard she's kicking inside there you might be able to feel it now."  

With your words Price reaches out and puts his hand on your stomach once more. He spreads his palm out wide hoping to feel even the lightest tap. And eventually after a few seconds he does! He can feel his baby girl kick his hand. 

Looking at you he sees that you have the softest smile on your face as you watch him. You know that this has been something he had been waiting for ever since you first mentioned it. He couldn’t help, but think how this was all he had ever wanted. Price wouldn’t change this moment for anything in the world. 

He moves himself up on the bed towards you, and pulls you into his arms. Doing so he makes sure to have one hand pressed on stomach as he whispers praises in your ear. 

Gaz: 

Gaz is in the living room building some furniture for the baby’s room when a gasp followed by a loud thud of something hitting the ground. He is immediately calling your name, and rushing to find you. 

Once in the kitchen he sees you standing in the middle of the room. You're obviously in pain, but you have a wide smile on your face. A tupperware container sits on the ground; the lip Is still on and luckily nothing spilled out onto the floor.

"What! What is it? Is everything alright?" Gaz quickly asks, coming to stand right in front of you. 

 "Give me your hand!" You excitedly exclaim while reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. 

 Confusion and worry quickly leaves him as he feels a sudden pressure press up against his palm. "Is that-?"

"It is!"

Gaz drops to his knees; his hand never leaves its spot. He loves you so much, and this pregnancy has only strengthened that bond he has with you. 

Everything in this moment is perfect, and he can't believe his life has turned out like this. How he ended up with you he'll never know, but he'll forever be glad he did. Gaz gives your stomach a kiss before rising to his feet, and leading you to the couch. All he wants to do right now is hold his family in his arms. 

Soap: 

Soap had his head right on top of your stomach as he talked to you and baby about how he couldn't wait for them to be born, and everything he had planned after that. When Soap had found out you were pregnant he was ecstatic, and would talk to the baby any chance he could. 

While doing so this time though a hard pressure hits him on his check. You gasp at the same time Soap jerks his head up to meet your eyes.

"Did she-?

"Was that-?"

You both say at the same time before focusing back on your stomach. Soap is immediately placing his head back on your stomach; waiting for the baby to kick him again. 

"Do it again, little lass, do it again!" He whispers repeatedly to the baby.

It only takes him a few short moments for it to happen again, and when it does Soap lets out an excited laugh. 

"I think she likes your voice." You affectionately mention to him while running your fingers through his hair. 

"Aye, just like her mama!" Soap reaches up and grabs your hand that's in his hair and brings it closer to him to give it a kiss before returning it where it once was. This right here was his favorite way to relax when home. 

Ghost: 

In the middle of the night Ghost feels you wiggling in his arms. Your pregnancy had been affecting your sleep so this was pretty normal, but before he can pull you closer to him he hears your pained wheeze. Instantly he’s wide awake and calling out to you. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” 

“The baby,” you gasp, “the baby is apparently wanting to be a football player, and decided that now is the perfect time to practice.” 

The relief he feels from those words are instantaneous. He hates that you’re in pain, but he would rather this than the worst possible scenario. “I’m sorry, love. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you talk to her? She always calms down when you do.” You sleepily ask him. 

And he does; if simply talking is what it takes to help both of his girls then he will do so. Leaning down towards your stomach he places one hand on it, and starts to speak. What surprises him though is that when he does he feels a light punch against his palm. 

That was the baby he realized. He felt her. A wave of love overflows inside of him, and for a second he thinks surely this can’t be real. There is no way his life has turned into something this perfect. 

[san8ny]

I COULD BE MOM, (unless you want to be dad?)

?: In which Ellie has been away on a trip, what better ‘welcome home’ gift than delusionally letting her get you pregnant with a strap?

!: Breeding, Praise, Slight spitplay, Strapping, Pussyeating, Obsessed!Ellie, says ‘mommy’ ONCEEEE!

“You can’t.”

Ellie tilts her head, lips falling into a frown, “Maybe if we try enough?”

Was she serious?

“You literally can’t though, Ellie, it’s biologically impossible. You nutting in me doesn’t mean we can have babies.” You roll your eyes, scrolling on your phone before it’s plucked out of your grasp and tossed to the side, “Hey—!”

“You’re so negative.” She smiles, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, shoving you back into the bed so abruptly as she sinks to her bruised up knees. You let out a shiver at the implication of what was to be taken place, eyeing the muddy suitcases near the entrance of your shared bedroom before bringing your gaze to what she was doing, “You haven’t even unpacked yet..”

Wrapping her arms around your hips, she pulls you closer to her ravishing mouth, cooing as she thumbs your swollen folds, “Yeah, but i’m a starved woman, you that surprised?” With that, Ellie digs in.

It was going so well, mouth feeling like heaven on you ‘til she spoke up,

“Biologically, did you know the clit has tens upon thousands of nerves?” She says out of nowhere, lifting her head up to display the lower half of her face soaked with your arousal, and more importantly, sizing up your smart-ass retort from earlier when she asked to breed you. “Fuck off..” You tiredly reply, not finding it in yourself to tell her off how you want, not with the delicious feeling of your stomach beginning to coil in what seems like a long-awaited orgasm— but Ellie’s not feeling nice.

She quickly retracts her mouth away, a dramatic ‘pop!’ from your clit when initially does so. She gets up, jogging over to her suitcases to get something, all while your mouth is gaped at her audacity. You’re eagle-spread like a damn french girl, and she just..gets up?

She quickly returns back, sheepishly kissing your hipbone as a half-hearted apology, except you feel something cold and long slap onto it aswell.

Alarmed, you raise your head and are met with one hell of a sight, Ellie wearing what seems to be a literal death contraption— a long, beautifully sculptured, silicone cock, slightly curved at the end with an adjustable harness wrapped around Ellie’s gamine figure. Was this the reason your wife believed she could suddenly re-write the law’s of nature? You gulp when she slaps it once more against your bikini line, this time, slowly nearing your leaky entrance.

“Biologically, you think maybe ‘yer cunt might break from this?” She utters mockingly, leaning forward to kiss the edge of your lips before she runs the tip of the toy inbetween your folds ‘nice and easyyy’..getting it all nice and most importantly, wet. “Geez, who needs lube when I got one of these bad boys..” Ellie says, before trailing off with a laugh when you don’t seem to be focused on any of her words as she plugs you up.

You’re still finding yourself getting use to the exaggerated stretch of the dildo, it’s beginning to feel like it’s practically splitting you in two. You attempt pathetically at gripping the sheets but find yourself wrapping your arms around Ellie, needily pulling her closer to your still-clothed chest. “A-aaah..”

She smiles at your gasps and whines, your pleasure alone intensifying whatever shes feeling by a ton, even if she wasn’t the one taking it. “Just grab ‘onna me.” Ellie says, voice void of any previous teasing but instead a certain softness, “I won’t be mad, baby.”

You nod, eyes cinched closed when she begins picking up momentum; you almost immediately wrap your legs around her lower back, wanting her even deeper, somewhat understanding what ‘dickmatized’ meant now. “Uhn! Uhn! E-llie!” The redhead chortles at the rhythmic hiccuping of her name, groaning when the sharp pressure of your heels drive further into her back, definitely leaving bruises later, “Just take it slowly, ye—eah? ah! ‘m right here, giving it to my favorite girl..”

You two have been in for a while, and Ellie has you a complete mess, milky fluids forming at the base of her cock each time she bullies her hips into yours, ripping a cute sob outta you. If she could marry you a thousand times over, she would— she really would. If only you saw yourself through her eyes, the sheer and utter helplessness she feels when you’re handling kids, knowing you’d make the best mommy out there, and god, she’s a sucker for you, buying you everything you ever ask because she’s head over heels in-love with your very essence. She’ll build you up everytime you fall and never complain. You were her dream girl.

Speaking of dream, she gently pats your cheek, asking you in a docile voice if you’re still with her, and when you nod back, with lttle pools of crystals forming at the ends of your lashes, Ellie is about to free-touch cum at this point, needing to get you to that point with her ASAP. She runs her thumb over your lip as you instinctively take in her digit, swirling your tongue around it while she quickens up her pace, sinful slaps of skin echoing throughout the humid room and likely to the rest of the home too, a clear indication of how far she was willing to go with you. “I-i’m gonna cum..” you mewl pitifully, tits moving forward eachtime she rams her strap into ‘ya, finally meeting ellie’s gaze somewhat as saliva seeps past your lips, dribbling down the thumb she had on the tip of your tongue. Ellie brings her head down to your shoulder, rocking her hips hard and fast, a slight bulge forming in your lower stomach from how deep she was in your guts, all while her beautiful sounds play in your ear, each little huff and tuff of praise.

“So warm..so soft, y-you’re ‘gna be the end of me, mommy..” Ellie whimpers admittedly when the end of the strap repeatedly stimulates and bumps into her engorged clit, and to put an end to her soft streak, Ellie meanly presses a hand to your lower-belly, forcibly bringing you to, hands down, one of the most pornographic, blissful, soul-shattering orgasms you’ve ever had in a long tome, creaming all over the strap, your thighs and her tanktop. That sight of you alone, also, makes her cum when she finally bottoms out, body feeling limp as it falls over you.

She eventually rolls over you, draping a tatted forearm around her eyes to shield her from the moon beams shining in from your windows. “Why do we even open that one—“ However, upon noticing your steady breathing and occasional snores, she drops whatever she was gonna say, scooting closer to kiss you— lips lingering when she finally pulls back from your cheek.

She never understood when Joel and the other mopey adults around her would complain about marriage, and quite frankly, she doesn’t think she ever will, not until her cold dead body is ripped away from yours.

‘Til then, she was gonna build this family up with you, your future kid’s adoption papers still in one of her suit-cases as she lifts herself up to her elbows and eventually to her feet, retrieving a warm wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up with, especially not having the heart to wake you up.

Not that you could likely still walk after the number she’s done on you.

[allywthsr]

PREGNANCY JOURNEY | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and your pregnancy journey

wordcount: 3.9k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy and it’s symptoms

notes: this is going to be a series! Look forward to the rest 🤓

It all happened without planning, Lando always said he wanted to become a dad when he retired and had more time for his child and you.

But the best things happen when you’re not expecting them, at least that’s what his mother always says.

It all started with you feeling unwell for your usual walk at the docks, headaches, nausea, stomach pains and sore boobs were part of your daily life. At first you put them off as classic period symptoms, since that was nearing, but you never would’ve classed them as pregnancy symptoms.

Lando was being as caring as he could’ve been, bringing you hot water bottles, painkillers and cuddling you all the time. And when you flew to Australia, for the GP, you waited for your period to come, but it didn’t. You flew with Max Verstappen, Kelly and P in Max’s private plane, thankfully. While cramping in the seat next to Lando, he rubbed your back, placed his hand on your lower stomach and kissing your hair repeatedly. He wished to take that pain away from you, but he couldn’t do anything else than watch and be there for you, whispering sweet nothing in your ear, hoping to distract you from the nausea and stomach pains.

And when you missed the practices on Friday, because you couldn’t keep your food inside of you, emptying your guts out in the toilet, that’s when Lando actually became worried. You weren’t even up for sex, and that was never a problem, Lando just had to blink and you were ready to jump his bones, and you did, usually.

Your period was two days late already, and that got you worried too, when calling your best friend and telling her about your symptoms, she waisted no time in telling you, that you should take a pregnancy test.

You laughed at her and told her to stop messing with you, you couldn’t be pregnant, Lando and you used protection all the time, when she insisted on you doing a test, you got worried she might actually be true, but you didn’t wanted to do it alone, you couldn’t.

So when you were hanging over the toilet when Lando returned, he decided that you needed to see a doctor, with his phone already out, checking for the next doctors office, you called out for him to come into the bathroom.

“Y/N, you need to see a doctor, this is not normal.“

“Yes, Lando, it’s normal.“

“No, Y/N.“

“I think I’m pregnant, Lando.“

“You… you’re… what?“

“I think pregnant“, when he didn’t react and only looked at you in shook, your eyes started to fill up with tears, “And you’re not happy about that?“

He slowly came back, “No, baby, just shocked, I… did you take a test?“

“No, I wanted to wait for you, and take it with you, can you run to the shops and get me like three? Just to make sure.“

He nodded, “I love you, I’ll get them, you stay here and don’t worry too much, we got this, okay?“, and quickly he changed out of his McLaren gear, in a neutral hoodie, a cap that hid his curls and sunglasses that covered his green eyes. With several kisses on your lips, on your face and a small caress on your lower tummy, he said goodbye and ran out.

You exhaled loudly and paced around the suite, checking Lando’s location every two minutes. Butterflies were flying in your stomach, you were nervous, its not like anything would change between you and Lando, but still your life’s would change rapidly, you wouldn’t be able to follow Lando to every race, sure you could still work for Quadrant, and do your normal email work, but you wouldn’t be able to come to every shoot.

But life could also be more beautiful, playing with your little love until Lando comes home and he or she will squeal until they’re in Lando’s arms. Taking them to a race and sitting them in Lando’s car, or Lando would stream and his son or daughter would steal the spotlight.

But before you could think about any of that, the test had to be positive. Maybe it was just pre period symptoms with a stomach bug, and all of this was something you and Lando would laugh about, when laying in bed later, but you needed to know now. And Lando was still running around in the store a few blocks away from the hotel.

Finally the door unlocked and a panting Lando came through the door.

“Did you run up here?“

“Of course, it’s not every day that your missus tells you she could be pregnant.“

You chuckled and grabbed the bag from Lando’s hands, you looked inside it and found five pregnancy tests, as well as some chocolate, other treats and multiple things to help you with nausea, headaches and stomach pains.

“Did you buy the whole store?“

“I wanted you to feel better, pregnant or not.“

“Shit Lando, what are we gonna do if I’m pregnant?“, you started to panic again, this time Lando was there with you and hugged you before it would get worse.

“We’re going to buy a changing table, and clothes, and diapers, and the cutest little stuffies, and you’re going to be the best mother ever. If you’re actually pregnant, then we’ll deal with that, I love you so much, that won’t change anything. Let’s just take a test, and then we can worry, okay?“

You nodded and he pulled you to the bathroom, “Are you going to stay here while I pee?“

“Yes? If we’re doing this, we’re doing this together.“

“But can you at least shut up? I need to concentrate“, he nodded and sat on the bathtub, waiting for you to do something.

You pulled out a pregnancy test and quickly read through the instructions on the box, you held the stick under yourself and did what you had to do. With Lando watching you, it was more funny than serious and you two couldn’t hold back the laughter, the whole situation was bizarre, you never thought you would be doing this without planning it.

You placed the stick on the sink and set a timer for five minutes, now you wandered around the bathroom, nor Lando and you said a thing, all that was heard was heavy breathing.The minutes felt like hours, and when your alarm finally rang, you both jolted at the sound, scaring you. Now it was clear if you would be drinking champagne or juice to celebrate, both results would be fine, you and Lando would get through everything, if you had each other.

You grabbed the test and looked at Lando, he held your hand and squeezed it tight, ”We got this.“

With one last breath, you turned over the stick and read the letters, with a gasp you turned around to Lando snd showed him the test.

PREGNANT

You two didn’t know how to react, the feelings were switching between happiness and shock, sadness and confusion. But before anything else could happen, Lando wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. Tears slipped from Lando’s and your eyes, it was the shock. Lando and you had been together for a little over five years, it wasn’t unusual for couples to become pregnant, but Lando and you had such a busy life, that you didn’t know if a baby would fit in there.

With tears in his eyes, Lando held your face in his hands, and wiped away the wet stains on your cheeks, smiling at you.

“I love you, okay. We’re going to be the hottest parents there are, you’ll be a milf. Nothing will change, I’ll love you just as much as I love you right now. Forever.“

“Everything will change, Lan. We’ll have a baby with us, a breathing human that will rely on us, we can’t just go on random trips anymore, we can’t spend all day in bed anymore, we certainly can’t have sex all over the apartment anymore.“

“But Y/N, this is a beautiful thing, we can still go on trips, we’ll just have to pack an extra bag and hold small hands when the plane takes off, the baby can lay in bed with us all day, and I’ll still fuck you in the kitchen when the afternoon nap is happening.“

You chuckled and pressed your lips on his’, one of his hands found its way back to your lower stomach and rubbed small circles on where the baby was growing.

“I need chocolate.“

“Luckily I bought some at the store, pregnant or not, you always crave chocolate“, with a chuckle he kissed your forehead, “Lets lay down on the bed, okay? It was a hectic day.“

You nodded and he led you to the bed, with his head resting on your stomach, you combed your fingers through his curls, enjoying the silence between you two. In just nine months, all that would be over and a small creature would be filling the silence, that thought got you a little excited, you couldn’t wait for the future.

“When do you think it was conceived?“

“Well, what does the pregnancy test say?“

“It said two weeks.“

“Before we left for Saudi Arabia then.“

“But how? I always forced you to wear a condom.“

“Remember that morning where we were tired and horny? I think we forgot, I did try to pull out but I think that didn’t work.“

You sighed and kept combing through his hair.

The next day was weird, you felt better and only had to throw up once in the morning, so you were walking next to Lando through the paddock. No one knew your secret, and yet, Lando was gliding over the concrete, he wanted to tell everyone, clearly happy about the news, you both were. You both were glowing and happier than ever, people were laughing and saying that the night must’ve been a good one, but they didn’t know that all you did last night was, talking about the future and how to tell your family and friends.

Knowing you were expanding your little family, while no one knew about it, made the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults, you had to slap Lando’s hands away from your stomach, every now and then, too scared someone would catch you. You wanted it to be a secret for now, telling your family and friends, as soon as you figured out how. It should be special and memorable, you couldn’t just get them all together and tell them ‘We’re pregnant, by the way.’

When you traveled back home after Australia, you immediately booked an appointment at your gynecologist, making sure Lando could come with you, as he requested. Lando was nervous when you two climbed the stairs to the doctors office, holding your hand tightly. Due to Lando’s and your ‘celebrity’ status, you could immediately go into the room where you would meet the doctor. And she came in quickly after you settled on the mattress, Lando right next to you. She did an ultrasound, and found the baby, seeing that all was well, and healthy so far. She advised you to take it slow and not do everything at once, you could still do your normal routine, but not stress too much about things, and Lando took that seriously. When you were back at the flat, he bent down and opened your shoe laces, removing your feet from the shoes, bringing you water all the time, making sure you always had some snacks and you were comfortable. It was cute at first, always having someone around you and someone to make sure you were alright, but it got annoying after three days, you were surprised you’re allowed to go the toilet alone.

The next races until you were finally home for a bit longer, were hectic, you wanted to rest, but due to constant traveling, you couldn’t, and not joining Lando would only be more stressful for you, what if he crashes and you weren’t there? When the Monaco GP came, you could fully breathe, you knew the city, you could sleep in your own apartment, cook whatever whenever you wanted, but that also meant that Lando could live out his protective side. He wanted you to stay home and watch the practices from the window, and arguing was useless, he had his opinion and there was no changing that. It was also when you first started showing, on the media day for the Monaco GP, you were laying in bed with Lando and you two just woke up, his hand went from touching your face, to your boobs to your stomach, when he gasped and sat up, while pulling your sleeping T-shirt up, so it rested underneath your boobs. With a worried “What?“, you screamed at him, thinking he might saw something bad.

“You have a bumb!“

“Really?“

You looked at your belly and indeed saw your tummy being a bit bigger than the night before, while you knew that it wasn’t the baby that was making your stomach looking bigger, but more like your uterus, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment for him. The rest of the morning was spent in bed, with Lando kissing your belly and cuddling until he really had to go. You put on a more summer like dress and hoped no one would saw the slight bulge in your stomach.

But on Saturday, when the whole Norris and Y/L/N family was gathered in the city, it was time to reveal your pregnancy, on Sunday you wanted to tell the close team.

It was magical, everyone acted just like you hoped, a lot of tears were shed and hugs were exchanged, especially the team at McLaren couldn’t be happier, they tried to be the tough boys, but you saw some wet eyes when they all hugged you.

From now on it was easier, you could tell your family updates about the baby every day, in the garage everyone kept an eye out for you and handled you with extra care, offering you a seat or water every second of the day.

With each day, your tummy started growing more, and after a few weeks it was more than obvious that the belly wasn’t from eating too much. Your whole body was growing, especially the boobs, which made Lando really happy, he couldn’t stop looking at them every day, but it also made things very obvious for the fans something happened. You didn’t post on social media anymore, and you barely came with Lando to races, and if you did you wore huge sweatshirts to cover your belly and boobs up. When you crossed the twenty week mark, there was no denying that a baby was growing inside of you. After finding out the gender, you made a post on instagram. You felt good and didn’t want to be stuck in your apartment anymore, you needed to join your boyfriend at his races again.

The freedom you felt once you could go outside in normal clothes, was amazing, and the people were swooning over you. You were glowing, and with that bump of yours, Lando couldn’t keep his hands of off you, always touching you in some kind of way, either on your belly, or at least a hand always on your back, to protect you from straying to far away from him, his words.

There wasn’t a day where you two wouldn’t be cuddling, either he was laying with his head on your belly, or talking to the baby, or kissing your belly, or caressing it. He loved his child already so much, he was overwhelmed sometimes from the love he felt. He always thought he couldn’t love someone more than you, or his family, but the way he felt the need to protect his unborn child already, sometimes he just wanted to burst.

But for now all he got to protect, was you. He did whatever he could so you were save, when in crowds, he would hold your hands and shield you from the people as best as you could. He fell in love with you more every day, seeing you growing your child and doing whatever it takes to make you and your baby happy, if that meant he needed to run to the shops at three AM for certain chocolate, he did that. No matter how disgusting your eating behavior was, he would always get you what you wished for, he even almost missed a practice because he ran out quickly before the start to get you crisp you desperately needed.

The first kick was special, Lando always made fun of instagram videos, where the parents freak out over some belly movements, but when you were in the kitchen, cooking yourself pasta, Lando came and hugged you from behind, caressing your growing stomach and kissing your neck, it was his new favorite thing to do. While talking to you about some changes they made on the car, you two gasped at the same time, looking down to where Lando’s hands lay, you felt something kick from inside of you.

“The baby kicked, Y/N!“

You nodded your head and turned around in his embrace, kissing your boyfriend on his lips.

“It’s actually alive in there, baby. Can you believe it? In eighteen weeks we have a breathing human being.“

You wiped his cheeks with your thumbs, tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, smiling up at him you repeatedly pressed your lips on his’.

This memory sure would be one you two wouldn’t forget.

Lando was the happiest when he was with you, he always thought the happiest he can be was in his car, driving around in full speed and being on the podium after, seeing you in the crowd cheering for him, but now, there wasn’t something he wanted more all day than lay on your lap, talking and feeling the baby, while you’re brushing through his curls with your fingers.

He loved to take pictures of you when you’re in underwear, to document the growth of your belly, but also because he wanted to take pictures of you in underwear, he never thought you could look even sexier, but to him, you did. So he looked forward to seeing you change your clothes every morning and evening, shamelessly looking at your nakedness every time.

But it was fine, your sex drive was through the roof sometimes, when Lando saw you naked, he got horny, and you were too. It wasn’t unusual that Lando and you would disappear during a race weekend for a few minutes, you needed him, whether he would go down on you or give you the real thing.

But pregnancy wasn’t perfect, there were a lot of downsides to it. Everything hurt, your back, your feet, your head, your boobs and even your legs. Lando tried and eased your pain whenever he could by massaging every body part, but he couldn’t fully remove it. Foot massages were on the daily agenda, and when he was lucky, he massaged your boobs, which always lead to you leaking milk and Lando would get horny after seeing your big boobs on display.

But when you saw this viral trend on TikTok, where the boyfriends would lift their girlfriends stomachs, you had to try it out, and when Lando stood behind you, hands under your big belly and lifted it, you let out the biggest moans Lando ever heard. Not having to carry the weight of the baby, relieved the tension of your back and you could breathe again. Lando was shocked how heavy the baby actually was, sure he heard it every time at the gynecologist, but feeling it was a different thing. Everyday Lando did that lifting thing for at least twice a day, and it were the best minutes during the day.

After week thirty you weren’t able to put your own socks on and putting on your shoes was also impossible, just as shaving in the shower, luckily you had a supportive boyfriend who did all these things for you, when he was around. He shaved your legs and private parts for you, and he found it exhausting, every time he would say that he didn’t know how women could do this every now and then.

Certain smells made you almost puke, yesterday your head was already over the toilet when you smelled bell pepper, it drove you crazy.

Traveling also got harder, you got cleared by your doctor before every race, but still, it was exhausting. The long plane rides, the long car rides and the sitting in the garage were tiring, you tried to support Lando from the garage, but for some practice sessions you stayed at the hotel, watching it on your laptop and laying in bed. You even thought about staying home, but you knew that would only stress you more, at home you couldn’t always be there for Lando when he needed you, and you needed him.

The fans were the sweetest too, giving you two gifts for the baby, drawings, clothings, accessories, and many more things. Your favorite piece so far was the handmade baby McLaren suit, so the baby and Lando could match, you couldn’t wait to see these two together.

The room was done by mostly Lando, but you bought most of the furniture and accessories, Lando put them all together. The walls were painted in a light blue and the room was cloud themed, there were clouds painted on the wall, clouds hung from the ceiling and cloud pillows were placed everywhere. You two couldn’t wait for your little love to arrive.

The last GP was hard for you, you were thirty-seven weeks pregnant and couldn’t really move, your stomach was huge and standing for more than five minutes was not possible. Lando didn’t want you to come, and you almost didn’t, but you thought about going in labor earlier than expected and not having Lando by your side, and that freaked you more out than the thought of delivering your baby in a different country with Lando. So you waddled around the paddock, with Lando’s hand in yours you made your way to the hospitality, feeling better when you could finally sit down again.

You sat in the garage and watched the race, and when it ended, you were more than happy that Lando was fine and healthy, going for dinner with his family after the season officially ended. And almost immediately after you were back at the hotel, you packed your things and flew back to your Monaco home, and when you arrived, you could enjoy the last few weeks of pregnancy. The nesting was driving Lando crazy, everything had to be perfect, you were washing the last few clothes for your baby, filling the drawers with diapers and whatever the internet, books and especially yours and Lando’s mum told you, you needed. In general your families were the biggest help, they told you were to start with shopping for the baby, what you actually needed and what you didn’t.

Christmas time came around, your apartment was decked with decorations and the smell of cookies was everywhere and on the eleventh of December, you woke up because of sharp pains in your lower stomach. At first you thought these were normal stomach pains or Braxton hicks, preparing you for the birth, you had them quite frequently now, but when you started counting them and they came on more often than normal you shook Lando awake. And before you knew it, Lando drove you two to the hospital, where the next chapter of your life began.

[inkedinshadows]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Azriel × reader

A/N: so here it is, my first Azriel fic! I'm so excited to share this and I hope you all enjoy it too.

Summary: The bond snapped for Azriel the moment he saw her, thrown into the Cauldron with Elain and Nesta. Now, he wants to help her as she struggles to cope with what happened.

Warnings: angst, ptsd, mention of pain and drowning

Word count: 3.6k

֍֍֍֍֍

It had been one week since Y/N was kidnapped and thrown into the Cauldron. One week since Azriel had found his mate. Even bloodied, with an arrow in his chest, only barely conscious, he’d taken one heavy-lidded look at her and just known.

He’d awoken three days later, still a bit weak but finally able to stand up, to walk. To go see her.

For four days now, Azriel had brought a tray of food to her room, asked her if she needed anything, and told her not to hesitate to tell someone if she did. Sometimes she would shake her head or answer in a whisper with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Sometimes she would just look at him, though it was as if she couldn’t really see him. But most often, she would keep staring at the wall or out the window, not showing any sign that she even realized he’d walked in.

Azriel knew she was struggling. Mor and Rhys had gotten even less of a reaction out of her. Cassian was still healing. Elain and Nesta were trying to adapt as well, each in their own way, and though Y/N was their sister’s friend, neither of the girls had asked to see her. Nor her them, for that matter. So Azriel had taken it upon himself to check on her a couple of times every day.

He knocked gently on her door, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. But she wasn’t sleeping, his shadows confirmed that. Despite his initial protest, a few tendrils had slipped away from his control and now lingered in the darker corners of her room. He’d thought it a violation of her privacy, but she was his mate and she was struggling, and a part of him was glad that his shadows would keep an eye on her. Were eager to, was more like it. So he’d let them.

Azriel pushed the door open and was not surprised to find Y/N sitting in front of the window. It was either that or she’d be curled up on her bed. This time, though, her gaze slid toward him as he took a step inside, and when their eyes met for even just a second, his heart raced in his chest.

“Hello, Azriel,” she said quietly, and her soft voice pronouncing his name for the first time was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

“Hi,” he replied, clearing his throat before taking a few steps forward. He stood a few feet from her, afraid he might startle her. She’d spoken to him, had been the first one to do so, and he considered it progress. He wouldn’t ruin it. “I just wanted to check on you.”

His eyes took her in, and he felt the urge, the need, to reach out to her, to take her in his arms and hold her. She’d turned toward the window again, but he could still see the dark circles under her eyes and her haunted expression. Her posture was rigid, her skin pale, her hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. And as he scanned the room, he noticed the tray of food he’d brought her that morning. Untouched.

“You didn’t eat anything,” he added gently, and he had to bite his tongue before he could add ‘again’. She would rarely take one or two bites of food, and it was starting to show. But Azriel knew he couldn’t force her to eat and he was still trying to find a way to convince her.

A few heartbeats passed before Y/N answered, still not looking at him. “I’m not hungry.”

Azriel shoved down his rising frustration. That was not what she needed. But seeing his mate suffer like this, unable to eat, to sleep, and not knowing what to do to help her was driving him crazy.

He debated leaving her alone and maybe go talk to Rhys, asking him whether he knew if there was something else Azriel could do, some kind of help only a mate could provide. That would entail revealing Y/N was his mate, but if it was the only way… besides, his family had probably already understood it. Rhys and Amren, at least.

Azriel looked at her one last time, but she was still staring outside. She’d fallen into her trance once more. He opened his mouth to bid her goodbye, but that’s when he realized it.

Her nightgown. It was the same one she was wearing that morning. And the day before. And the one before that one. He’d never seen her wear anything else, actually. Had she not changed since she’d arrived here?

He frowned, glancing at the drawer before focusing on her again, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. Tentative, almost. “Do you need some clean clothes?”

That got a reaction out of her. She looked down at her nightgown, then at the door that led to the bathroom before finally looking at him. But her eyes dropped as she answered. “I can’t take a bath.”

The words were barely audible even in the silent room, and yet they hit Azriel like a punch to the gut. She couldn’t take a bath. Couldn’t, probably because it brought back memories of the Cauldron. His heart clenched and he had to take a deep breath to calm down and not go back to Hybern to deal with the king all by himself.

His shadows lunged forward as if they wanted to reassure her, but he held them back. He approached her slowly, stopping just in front of her. He crouched down next to her and waited for her to meet his eyes before speaking.

“Let me help,” he said, unable to hide his concern any longer. He wanted to erase that haunted look from her eyes and he’d do anything to make her feel safe and protected again.

“You’re not alone, Y/N,” he continued, his tone gentle. In his mind, he was cursing himself for not having thought she might experience this kind of problem. “I could help you bathe. We can do it at your pace and stop whenever you wish.”

She stared into his eyes and it felt like an eternity passed before she nodded. Relief flooded his chest at her trust, her willingness to finally let someone help her.

Without a word, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. Azriel followed her, his wings tucked in tight behind his back. He had no idea what he was doing, but he knew one thing: he’d do anything in his power to help her, now and forever.

~~~~~~

Y/N watched the water slowly fill the tub. Her heart was already pounding in her chest, but she could feel Azriel next to her and somehow it steadied her.

Being around him was weird. She couldn’t point out what it was exactly that made her feel that way. There was just something about him that made all her senses go on alert, and yet she wouldn’t describe it as an uncomfortable feeling. Not to mention how Azriel was one of the few things she remembered from that day in Hybern. The Cauldron, and him. His body covered in blood, with that arrow protruding from his chest. And the relief she’d felt the first time she saw him walk into her room, healed.

“Y/N?”

She blinked, the tub now filled before her. Azriel said something else, but she wasn’t listening. A frown appeared on her face as she stared down at the water like it was her worst enemy. She guessed it was, in a way. Especially after what had happened when she’d tried to take a bath a few days ago. But Azriel was right. She wasn’t alone now. Maybe this time would be different.

She hadn’t changed her nightgown since she’d been given it a week ago simply because she couldn’t stand the sight of her own body. It didn’t feel like hers anymore. It didn’t look much different from when she was human, other than the arched Fae ears, but now it felt like it was someone else’s. Like it didn’t belong to her.

But she now let it fall off her body, not even noticing the shadows that shot forward to cover her nakedness. She didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything other than that tub and what was about to happen.

With a steadying breath, she climbed inside. The shadows didn’t follow her into the warm water, leaving her completely exposed, and maybe in another situation she would have blushed. Just a week ago, she would have. But now there was only her and the water, reaching up almost to her shoulders, and for the first few moments she thought it was going to be fine.

And then she was in the Cauldron again.

She began shaking as the dark water rose and rose, and it was now at her neck, and she knew it’d soon reach her mouth and her nose, and then it’d submerge her and the pain would begin. Every cell in her body was yelling at her to get out, to swim toward the surface, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

She could hear a muffled voice coming from outside the Cauldron, but she couldn’t make out the words. The world was quickly disappearing, the water rising, and she was trapped, trapped under the surface, trapped in the darkness. Soon she’d feel that excruciating pain again, as if her body was being ripped apart, slowly and thoroughly.

Tears were streaming down her face and she sobbed, drawing her legs close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She began to rock back and forth and maybe she was begging for it to stop, to never start, maybe she was screaming or calling out for someone, maybe she wasn’t saying anything at all.

As that dark freezing water closed above her and pulled her under, she knew the pain would come soon. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was drowning and there was nothing she could do, nothing she could do, nothing she could…

A tender, gentle touch on her cheek. From far away, someone called her name. And among the chaos, the darkness, the crippling fear, she saw a pair of hazel eyes, soft and yet concerned. A male voice assuring her that she was safe, that he was with her.

She wanted to believe that voice, but the water was pulling her under, cold and dark and terrifying. But that gentle voice was still talking to her, those hazel eyes still looking into hers, and she tried to hold on to them, to not let it all slip away.

And then someone took her hand and suddenly she felt something thumping beneath her palm. A heartbeat, she realized. Life.

Heartbeat meant life. Not death, not pain.

Life.

“Breathe with me, Y/N.”

She didn’t know where the voice was coming from, how it could sound so clear and close when she was drowning in the depths of the Cauldron.

“One breath in, one breath out.”

That heartbeat was steady, the voice gentle, those hazel eyes still in front of her. Like a light in the dark. She had to reach them, somehow.

“Can you do it for me, Y/N?”

She didn’t know if she could, but she wanted to. Her lungs were full of water and she was drowning, dragged down and down in the endless pit of the Cauldron, pain tearing her apart as she sank. But the voice never stopped. It kept telling her she was safe, asking her to stay with him, to breathe with him. And so she did, following his instructions.

One breath in, one breath out.

She stared into those beautiful eyes.

One breath in, one breath out.

She focused on that heart beating against her palm.

One breath in, one breath out.

The Cauldron disappeared. She blinked, and Azriel was there. He was kneeling next to the tub, his hands holding hers against his chest, on his heart. There was a small smile on his face.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re doing great,” he said, his tone reassuring and soothing. “You’re here with me. You’re safe now. No one will harm you, I promise.”

She had stopped shaking and rocking, but tears were still running down her cheeks. Azriel just kept murmuring praises and reassurances, his eyes never leaving hers. And finally, after what felt like hours, she stopped crying.

She watched as Azriel wiped away her tears, as he leaned in to brush a kiss on her forehead. “You’re alright,” he whispered, and she believed him, but her eyes never left him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You’re doing great, Y/N,” he continued, his voice low and soothing.

She didn’t stop him when he picked up a sponge, poured some scented soap on it, and then began to pass it over her arm, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid of hurting her. But even if he wasn’t looking at her anymore, she kept her eyes on his face and her hand pressed against his chest. She still needed to feel his heartbeat, his breathing, so that she could sync it with her own.

But slowly, as Azriel passed the sponge on her arms, her shoulders, her back, she began to relax. He’d pulled her back to reality and he was now washing her with such gentleness, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“Azriel…” she murmured, her hand finally falling away from his chest. She could breathe on her own now, though a bit shakily.

He paused mid-scrub, his sponge on her neck. “I’m here, Y/N,” he said as he met her eyes. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t know how to answer that question. She wasn’t alright, but she was better than before. And this time, thanks to him, she hadn’t spent hours trapped in the tub, only to bolt out once she’d regained control, without having even touched the soap. Even now, though, she had to fight to keep the fear at bay.

“No,” she murmured. Once again, Azriel’s presence made her feel comfortable enough to share that truth and let herself be vulnerable. It was like an innate feeling in her chest, encouraging her to trust him.

She saw the concern in his eyes as she answered and how he seemed to tense a little, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he offered her the sponge and gestured vaguely to her body, as if to tell her to take over the task. “I’ll wash your hair.”

Before she could say anything, he was already moving behind her and filling a jug with water. While she finished washing her body, Azriel took care of her hair, a hand shielding her forehead and her eyes. She didn’t know if it was just a random precaution or if he could somehow sense that getting water on her face would bring back the memories of the Cauldron. Something told her it was the latter.

She even went as far as closing her eyes, relaxing slightly under his gentle care.

~~~~~~

Azriel felt her relax, and a small smile appeared on his lips as he continued to rinse her hair.

He'd seen the terror and horror seize her body and her mind, his heart breaking at the sight and at the sound of her weak voice just repeating the word ‘please’ over and over. She'd been so lost in it that he couldn't reach her, and he'd been about to pick her up and out of the tub when he'd had an idea and decided to try one last thing. Fortunately, his heartbeat worked, and he was proud of her for pushing through and coming back to reality. Back to him.

Once her hair was clean, she looked so relaxed that Azriel just wanted to make her feel like that for a little longer. He picked up the comb and started to run it through her hair, making sure no tangles remained.

She stirred a bit but didn't say anything. He was glad he could help her now, at least. When she'd been shoved into the Cauldron, he was so hurt and weak that he couldn't do anything more than take one little step in her direction before his brothers held him back.

“I'm all done,” he said after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable silence they'd fallen into. “Would you like to stay here a bit longer?”

She shook her head and immediately rose from the tub, her body dripping water. Azriel made sure to have his shadows cover her nakedness again as he offered her a towel, but it still wasn't enough to prevent his heart from pounding in his chest.

Though it stopped as soon as she stepped out of the tub, and he noticed the tears in her eyes.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” he asked. Maybe he'd gone too far, maybe he'd done something wrong or overstepped in some way. But she had seemed so calm and relaxed till a few moments ago…

She took a step toward him and reached out, gently taking his hand. “I… I just don't know how to thank you,” she murmured, and Azriel felt relief wash over him. “What you've just done for me, I… I can't thank you enough for it.”

Azriel smiled, then. A reassuring, soft smile as he gave her hand a tender squeeze. “You don't need to. You needed help, and I'm glad I was the one who could offer it to you.”

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded anyway and stepped back, releasing his hand. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He wanted to tell her, then. That he'd always be there for her, whatever she needed, because she was his mate and he couldn't stand to see her suffer. But he couldn't tell her, not now, not when she was still so vulnerable.

Instead, he replied, “I told you. You don't have to thank me.”

Azriel wanted to wipe away her tears, to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to make all her fears and worries disappear. And maybe one day they could get there. For now, he just gave her another smile. “I’ll let you get dressed. But if you need anything else, please let me know. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

He began to walk out and toward her room’s door, his shadows lingering close to her for a second before they drifted back to their master. And as his hand grabbed the handle, he heard her soft voice calling him once more.

“Azriel?”

He turned back to her. She was standing in the bathroom doorway, still wrapped in the towel, and she was chewing on her lower lip, as if not sure she should continue. When she didn’t say anything, he stepped away from the door. “Yes, Y/N?”

It took her one more moment before she finally answered. “I’d like to sleep, but I… I usually can’t, with all the nightmares. But I’m so tired and I thought…” She paused and he could see she was getting embarrassed. He’d just helped her bathe and she hadn’t shied away, but now she was nervous about whatever she was going to ask? He tilted his head, not sure where this was going, and she continued. “I feel like I can trust you, like I’m safe with you. And after what you did for me, I thought… would you mind staying with me a bit longer? Just until I fall asleep, I promise.”

Her words were so unexpected that he didn’t react at first. Helping her bathe had been his idea, and she’d just agreed. But knowing her trust was enough for her to ask this, that he made her feel safe after everything she’d been through… it warmed his heart.

She must have misunderstood his silence, because she began babbling. “Or not, I guess. I’m sorry, I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought… I shouldn’t have taken for granted you would–”

“Y/N,” Azriel interrupted, taking one step toward her. “I don’t mind. I’d gladly stay, if that’s what you want.”

A hint of a smile graced her lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered, his breath catching at the sight of that first tiny, shy smile. “You can trust me, and you are safe with me.” He gestured toward her dresser. “Now get changed. You deserve some rest.”

She nodded and Azriel made sure to look out the window as she put on a clean nightgown. He then moved the chair she’d been sitting on earlier close to her bed and watched her climb under the sheets. Even pale and tired, she looked beautiful, with her damp hair spread out on the pillow.

“I know you said I don’t have to,” she murmured, her eyes scanning his face, “but I’ll never thank you enough for this.”

Azriel just smiled. “Try to sleep, Y/N. Don’t worry about that.”

She curled up into herself, her eyes closing, yet she still whispered one more thing. “Just until I fall asleep. Then you can go.”

“I know.”

Now that she couldn’t see them, his shadows seized the opportunity to leave his side and curled through her hair, as if they too found it hard to keep away. He didn’t try to stop them or make them fall back, not when her expression relaxed even more and her breathing became slow and deep.

He wanted to be there, in case she’d wake up because of the nightmares she’d mentioned. So even long after she’d fallen asleep, Azriel kept watch over his mate.

֍֍֍֍֍

Read part 2 here!

[curseofaphrodite]

prisons & prophets

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!prophet!reader

Oracles were only admired if they were royalty. For a merchant's daughter like you, prophetic claims came with marks of a heretic and "burn at the stake" threats.

You coughed up dust when you were pushed onto the stone floor. There was silence around you, one that seemed more curious than haughty.

You carefully looked up to see Queen Rhaenyra, who looked as if you were a dead lion that just fell from the sky.

"What is the meaning of this?" There was fury and familiarity behind those words, and you groaned as you registered Jacaerys Velaryon in the room. He had his eyes trained on the guards and was intentionally ignoring yours.

Great.

"She's a witch!" The first guard yelled, sounding like he had a personal vendetta against you. It might had something to do with how you kicked his balls earlier to try to be freed from him, but you weren't sure.

Daemon Targaryen laughed. The sound made you look around the room properly. Daemon and Rhaenys were seated opposite each other, both looking more intimidating than the other. There were at least five guards around the room. But perhaps the most intimidating of them all was Rhaenyra herself, who looked fierce and gentle all at once. She gave off a godlike aura, which had you half tongue-tied. Jace stood a few paces in front of her.

"A witch?" She asked, almost exhausted. "How is she a witch?"

"She's from Driftmark—" a second guard said, sounding more civil than the last.

"That explains it," Darmon interrupted, smirking at Rhaenys. The latter rolled her eyes.

"Daughter of a merchant who migrated from Westeros three years ago. Her stepmother wrote to us saying there is a witch in her family, and presented us with enough information that we had no choice but to act."

"I'm not a witch," you sneered. The first guard kicked you down to the floor.

"Silence!" He yelled; and you felt rage and humiliation rising tenfold.

When you could look up again, everyone was staring at Jace. He had his sword out, pointed directly at the chin of the guard. Everyone was appalled. Everyone except Daemon, who looked proud.

"You will not treat a lady with disrespect in Queen's court ever again, or you'll be dismissed," he said plainly.

The guard seemed to calm down considerably. "Yes, my prince."

The prince in question did not look satisfied, but he put away his sword. It went without saying that he still hasn't spared a glance towards you.

"What's this information that convinced you she was a witch?" Rhaenyra asked, skeptical.

As the third guard brought your scrolls forward, you knew you were doomed.

"My stepmother just wanted to ask the palace for money in my exchange!" You cried out. "I'm not a witch!"

No one seemed to have heard your protests. The guard gave the scrolls to Rhaenyra, who took some and gave the rest to her husband. Daemon opened them, his interest evident.

"These are just drawings," Rhaenyra turned the paper upside down, as if they'd make more sense that way. Jace looked as if he wanted to spare a glance, but he hesitated and stood his ground.

"They're her predictions," the first guard answered, almost hissing. "It speaks of many things... including Lucerys Velaryon's death." Rhaenyra paled at the words. You knew the wound about her son was still fresh, and you instantly felt sorry for her. "If she had a hand in his death—"

"I didn't."

"Then it was a concern to not chain her," he finished, triumphant. "Should I bring her to the dungeons, Your Highness?"

Rhaenyra thought for a while before answering. "This seems like not enough proof to force upon a conviction on someone. These scrolls could mean anything—"

"Apologies, Your Grace, this needs immediate attention." Maester Gerardys burst through the doors with a message in his hands. He ignored you, the guards, the scrolls — as if none of it was remotely comparable to what he was going to say.

"Jaehaeyrs Targaryen is dead."

Silence filled the room once again. You felt like you were invading a moment you shouldn't be in. But if Maester saw you, he didn't think you enough of importance so he went on.

"Decapitated... They think you ordered them to do it! That's the news spreading through the streets anyway."

"Me?" Rhaenyra looked surprised at the implication.

"Two," Daemon spoke up, his face buried in the scrolls. Your scrolls. Everyone stared at him.

"What?"

"There are two sketches of funeral pyres. Both look small enough to be children's." Daemon met your eyes. "One has the Velaryon crest, and one has the Targaryen crest."

You closed your eyes, sighing.

--

Even though the dungeon was dark and uncomfortable, you fell asleep the moment dusk arrived.

You weren't even surprised when you dreamt of him; A vegetable stall, and a boy.

A teen with dark hair and brown eyes, seemingly dressed down from the rest of the royals. Even then, his fabric was finer than anything you've ever seen. If disguise was what he was going for, he hadn't done it right.

"Would you like some apples?" you asked on behalf of your father, who was sleeping in for the day. Who could blame him? You were tired in the scorching heat, and it hadn't even been three hours since you started.

"Uhm, yes please. How much for them?"

You named your price and he frowned.

"Am I supposed to bargain?" He asked, blinking.

This earned a laugh. "Don't your servants usually do the shopping?"

There was a pause and he paled under your daring gaze. "How did you-"

"You're wearing a Targaryen ring."

"Who's to say it's not a stolen relic? Or fake?"

"If it was stolen, you wouldn't parade it around in daylight."

"I would if it meant pretty girls mistaking me for the Prince."

"—and if it's fake," you continued, ignoring his comment. Men flirting was as common as fruits rotting. It often had nothing to do with who they were talking with, and more about getting abed. "The guards confiscate any fake things made in the name of the Crown."

"Fine, you caught me," he sighed, taking the ring off and dropping it inside his clothes. "There. I'm off Prince duty now."

"Jacaerys!" A guard with long, dark hair and a matching beard seemed relieved at the sight of the Prince. The latter groaned. You were curious about why he wasn't addressed with formalities. You hadn't guessed there would be friendships between the royals and those who served them. "What have I told you about running off?"

"I thought my younger brother could use a one-on-one with you. I've already mastered my swordsmanship."

"Hardly!" The guard scoffed, then noticed you. "Forgive us miss, we've a long way off the castle so you'll excuse us now."

You were reeling from how polite they both sounded. You nodded curtly. The guard might as well have dragged the Prince by his arms.

"I'll come for the apples another time!" Jacerys yelled behind his shoulders.

And he did.

Again and again.

He soon confided in you that the guard gave him and his brother private lessons in an abandoned ground outside the town, and that it was the reason for his frequent visits. The guard soon warmed up to you too, and he was positively in love with the grapes you sold. He told you his name was Ser Harwin Strong. Jace said others called him Breakbones. You didn't know why because the man had the gentlest eyes.

Then one day, both of them just stopped coming.

No explanation, nothing. It was like they never existed.

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

"Wake up, the Queen wants to see you." The keepsman said, nudging your shoulders. You scrambled to your feet, eyes blinded by the fire lamps lit all around.

Before you could so much as adjust your hair, Rhaenyra briskly walked in. She nodded her head and the guards left the room, closing the wooden door behind them.

"Good wishes, Your Grace." You wanted to look down to the floor, but you couldn't keep your eyes off her. She was wearing black robes with red stones that carved into an intricate design, which looked suspiciously like a dragon tail. She sat down on the makeshift bed, her fingers intertwined.

"You can be honest with me."

You blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I wouldn't hang you or — burn you in a stake," she said firmly. "You can tell me the truth, any and all of it."

"You believe in magic?" you were bewildered.

"In a kingdom ruled by dragons, magic isn't far off the table."

"I'm not a witch," you said, almost stumbling over your words. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not — I don't know what I am. Someone... something is talking through me. It does the sketches, not me. I'm a spectator to whatever I'm drawing."

Rhaenyra looked like she wanted to interrupt when you started sounding more panicked. But you paid her no heed.

"I say it's nonsense all the time. True, I predicted the storm two summers ago but how was I to know a vision of a tree in the middle of the ocean had any impact on what went above it? Isn't that just pure idiotic?"

"Y/N—"

"A vision once told me I would get married to a red boar, for fuck's sake!"

"Red boar?"

"Another time I saw a goose looking in a mirror and then killing itself. Don't know what that means either, do I?!"

The Queen reached for your hand, bringing you back from the evergrowing spiral inside your head. You realized you were gasping for air.

"You don't have to have all the answers," she said consolingly. "It wasn't fair of me to ask that much."

You nodded, calming down. "Thank you."

She stood up. "I'll make sure you're given dinner after your next visitor."

"Next?"

"How do you know him, I wonder?" she met your eyes questioningly. "My son?"

"I don't," you replied, just as fast. She didn't look one bit convinced but nodded anyway. Then she left without another word.

Jacaerys came in right as she left. He was wearing a different set of robes, but the vest looked the same. His hair had gotten even messier, which you didn't think was possible. Suddenly, you were aware of what you wore. All you had was your white nightgown, which you were still wearing when you had been forced out of bed.

"I want you to be one of the council advisors," he stated, all business-like.

"Uhm, what?"

"You're a prophet," he sat down where Rhaenyra did, though he looked more uncomfortable about it. "You're an asset."

You snorted. It was very much like a royal family to say something like that. "I'd disagree, Your Grace."

"You don't have to do the titles." Then he noted how you looked mad. He sighed. "I'm sor-"

"I'm sorry about your brother," you interjected, and sadness filled his face. But he ignored your comment and looked at his hands instead. He still had the Targaryen ring, along with a few other new ones. You frowned at one of them in particular, but he spoke before you look longer at it.

"Ser Harwin Strong was my father."

So much about the sentence had you in surprise, but only one mattered above all others.

"Was?"

"He died two days after the last time I visited you," he nodded. "Which is also why I never came again. Foul play was suspected in his death, but never confirmed. They found a new guard for me, one who trained me inside the palace walls."

"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say.

"I missed you everyday, if that counts."

You smiled. "It does."

"And that skill of yours? Seeing future? Do not push it down." His voice was firm. "Control it. No matter what you think, it's a power. And whoever gave you that power wouldn't have given it to you if they thought you couldn't handle it."

Now you really didn't know what to say.

"I'll have you transferred to a room. A nice one with a view out to the sea." He promised, standing up. "That is, if you agree to my offer to be an advisor."

"And my stepmother?"

"She's banished from the castle, of course. Not a coin given, even though what she gave us is invaluable. She just didn't know it."

"Oh, please." You laughed.

"I hope I'll see you soon, Y/N," Jace said wholeheartedly, noting how his visit was coming to an end. As he stepped out of the dungeon, you were still thinking about his words.

And also his ring, specifically the one that had a tusked animal carved on it, entirely out of pure ruby.

In other words, a red boar.

THE END

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some notes

Ser Harwin dies wayyy earlier but I tweaked the timeline to be aligned here.

the goose killing its reflection prophecy was reference to Halaena's drawings.

which speaks about Erryk and Arwyn's deaths. Goose is their crest.

I'm not sure if I should continue this story 'cause it holds up good on its own as a oneshot! But if you'd like, you can drop ideas for the continuance of this fic or other new jace fics @ my asks!

ty for reading and here's my coffee page if you want to support me :)