#imagine watching her do this knowing you originally agreed to help her out only because you saw a chance to make money

[hylianane]

When I think about the possibility of Vivi rejoining the crew, I can’t help but think about what makes her stand out when placed next to the other Strawhats.

To me her goals were always the most altruistic in the crew. She always tried to maintain peace, teaching Luffy about putting your pride aside and being patient for others. I think about the motives behind her actions, and then I compare them to the Strawhats, who are mostly incredibly selfish.

I love all the Mugiwara because of their selfish traits and not despite of them, of course. But let’s all remember the only reason they ever initially agreed to save Vivi’s life was because Nami downright forced Igaram to offer up a reward in exchange (as Navivi trash this fact makes me all the more insane about how their bond developed). And then you have others like Franky, whose introduction was him beating and robbing Usopp with zero remorse, and even our dear Sanji who once said they should just leave Smoker to die because he’s their enemy. Lovable bastards all of them, but it’s always been clear to me that Vivi is much more prone to wanting to do the right thing, instead of what she really wants or what is best. Like dropping everything to find Nami a doctor despite how desperate she was to reach Alabbasts, and being willing to run around the dessert desperately to avoid the bloodier solution, running herself and the crew ragged so she wouldn’t put others in danger by facing Crocodile head-on. And most of all, choosing to stay behind the first place.

I cant help but view her as a bit of a moral compass among the crew, a pacifistic and self-sacrificial even to her own detriment. If she’d stayed with the Strawhats, or if she were to rejoin them, in which direction would she manage to stir them…?

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Moments in Time - Quinn Hughes Edition

Word Count - 2300

Summary - The eight times Quinn Hughes showed his love through the ring camera that he didn’t even want in the first place.

Warnings - none pure fluff I know a true shocker if you aren't new here

Author's Note: Hello everyone as always thank you for reading. This is apart of a "Moments in Time" series that I wrote eight moments each of the Hughes brothers. The fics are individual stand alone pieces, they can be read in any order, or you could only read the one brother you want.

Jack Hughes Edition. Luke Hughes Edition.

I have to give credit to my girl Kay @icebound-imagination for not only helping come up with the original idea! But literally stayed up late one night to help me detail plan all three Hughes brothers fics because I didn't want any repeated ideas. Kay also wrote some of the concepts and hers are noted as "Kendra's Version."

Main Masterlist

When you mentioned to Quinn the first time that you wanted to get a ring doorbell he gave you that famous “what the fuck” Quinn Hughes look. But then when you told him about how you really just wanted it in Vancouver because of how much time you spent completely alone in the apartment. To this day, you swear you’ve never heard Quinn agree to anything so fast. Truthfully you just wanted to watch your neighbor’s new puppy growth. But you knew that if there is anyone who hates you having to be completely alone for so long with no family around it’s Quinn. So really it was best of both worlds, Quinn felt more at ease with the ring camera and you got to watch the next door neighbor be ridiculously cute everyday on the way to their walks. 

 Early Morning Goodbyes

Quinn had to leave early many times throughout the season. Although he always kissed you goodbye on the cheek, because you were still deep in sleep you both knew you wouldn’t remember it. Learning this after the first time he did kiss you goodbye before leaving for a roadie and you didn’t remember it at all. To say you were mad at Quinn for not saying goodbye, you gave him the silent treatment for two whole days, only to discover you were the one in the wrong. 

So the next time he had to leave home early due to an early flight for a roadie or hell, even an early morning skate. Of course he still kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes. But he started saying bye on the ring because he knew that way you’d see it when you were actually a functionable human being to society and would remember it. 

2. Getting a notification

The main reason that Quinn agreed to getting a ring was because of how you said that you would feel safer when he was on long roadies. The first time that you came home from work and he was on a roadie, he was waiting for the notification to come on his phone. As soon as it popped up he clicked on it quickly, ignoring his teammates and the movie they had playing in the background. “Hi baby.” he said softly he didn’t wanna startle you. After a long day all you wanted to do was crawl into bed, “hi Quinny” immediately hearing his voice and feeling better. 

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some team bonding?” Resting your forehead against your doorbell but looking directly at the camera.

“Oh I am Barbie is playing right now it was Brock’s turn to pick.” A soft laugh leaves both your lips at Quinn’s comment, your laugh continues when you hear Brock in the background telling him to “fuck off.” Quickly Quinn tells you that he’s gotta go but he will text you. 

That was the first night you guys had a full blown conversation through your ring camera when he was on a roadie. But it became a little tradition every night when you got home if Quinn was out of town. Even if at the time he was in the middle of a game or an interview, everyday you would ring the doorbell and say “Quinny I’m home.”  

3. Drop the attitude 

Quinn and you didn’t fight often but when you did it was usually something serious. Today was not one of those cases, it was just one of those days where you were in a bad mood all day and you couldn’t pin point why. But every little thing Quinn was doing was getting on your nerves, to the point of you wanting to scream. From procrastinating on unloading the dishwasher, to being indecisive about what he wanted for breakfast. By the time you were trying to take a nap and he was yelling on Facetime with Jack and Luke you had hit your breaking point. 

Storming into the living room and telling Quinn that he needed to leave the apartment because you needed time alone before you went insane. Quinn told his brothers he’d call them back and hung up. He tried to ask you what was wrong but you insisted that you needed him to leave. So he left but not without leaving a message on the ring camera. 

“I don’t know where this attitude is coming from, baby. But what do you need for it to go away? Like do we need food? Are you hangry? Do you need cuddles and some quiet time? Cause whatever you need imma give it to you if you drop the attitude. Cause I don’t like when you want to kill me.” 

4. Celebrating 

Every home game that you went to it wasn’t unusual for you to uber from the apartment to the stadium. But you would always wait until Quinn was ready to leave to go home to the game. Tonight there was a home game and you were planning on going. But this week has been so long at work, you were debating on just watching it on T.V, ultimately you did decide to take an uber to the game. Never have you been so happy to not miss out on a game live. It was an insane game that turned out to be a shutout with no other than baby goalie as starter. 

Quinn and you both decided to go to the local bar to celebrate with the team and other wags. After Quinn had 2 beers, and you lost track of the amount of rum and cokes Petey was giving you. Quinn decided it was time to call it a night. Once you got home, your not sure if it was the alcohol you both consumed or just still on a high from the game. But Quinn insisted on practically sprinting down the hallway to your apartment while you cheered about the game. Quinn has never felt so lucky the night when the ring camera was able to catch such an intimate private moment that neither of you would have remembered that morning without the video proof. 

5. Playing pranks - Kendra’s Version 

You had just settled onto the couch, a warm bowl of popcorn balanced in your lap as your phone screen lit up. You picked it up and checked to see you had a notification from the front door’s security camera. It was Friday night, which meant you weren’t getting any deliveries and your husband, Quinn, was home in the shower. 

Curiously you click into the app, seeing what the footage showed. And it wasn’t much. But what you could see was some blonde hair and a toque. You knew exactly who that hair and that hat belonged to. What on earth was he doing? 

Your finger hovered over the screen as you decided what to do about your husband’s teammate when the camera showed a flash of a stylish jacket, one that was definitely not the style of the blond hair and toque wearing teammate. Which meant his literal partner in crime was with him. And then it was like someone smashed their finger onto a fast forward button. 

You were getting ready to use the two way microphone to ask what was going on when you heard a crashing noise. Your finger hit the button quickly as you yelled out “What on earth are you two blond himbos doing out there? Brock I swear to god if you’re leaving your laundry for me to do again I’m throwing it in the Pacific!” 

You were too busy screaming to notice you weren’t the only one who heard the ruckus Dumb and Dumber had made. Quinn must have seen the security notification when he got out of the shower, heard your screaming, and now he was angrily stomping towards the front door and opening it up to figure out what was going on.

Brock, who must have tried to hide from the camera, was leaning against the door. Except the door was ripped open by your angry husband and Brock came tumbling backwards into the foyer. His signature smirk and deep voice trying to play innocent. “Hey Huggy.” 

You decided it was time to get off the couch and look for yourself. As you pushed past Quinn and Brock you leaned against the door frame. This was when you noticed the white stuff all over and that Petey was doubled over in laughter.

This left Brock to be the one to fess up their master plan, “Well we figured it would be Quinn that would see the camera not you. He’s ALWAYS checking it in the locker room. After me and the Swede had too many tonight we wanted to have some fun. And what’s more fun than pranking the captain? We wanted him to open the door to pie him. Get glitter stuck in his playoff beard. You weren’t supposed to catch us, Y/N.” 

You looked back at Petey, now understanding why he was sparkling under your porch lights.

“Sorry about the plant,” he wheezed. 

You could feel Quinn’s glare get darker. Brock however was unaffected by the quiet brooding man. “Petey will pay for it because he makes more money.” 

6. “Where the fuck you going in that dress?”

Quinn wasn’t as overprotective over you as people assumed he would be with his girlfriend. He trusted you and he also knew that you knew how to keep yourself safe when you were out with friends for a girls night. But at the same time he didn’t like it when you went out when he was on a roadie. Quinn made the comment about how when he’s a plane ride away it gives him anxiety when you're out with friends drinking. He said that he would feel terrible if something bad happened or even if you needed a ride home and he couldn’t come to you because he was on the other side of the continent. Since you weren’t a big partier anyway, from that night on you did tend to only go out if Quinn was in town. Never wanting to be the reason you brought your boyfriend to the breaking point with his anxiety. 

But it was your best friend having her birthday and you couldn’t not go. It had completely slipped your mind about your new ring camera and how Quinn was basically addicted to checking it especially when he was on the road. After coming over to get ready at your place. Finally you were ready to order the uber and as you were locking the door, you heard Quinn’s voice “Where the hell are going in that dress?” You could tell from his voice that he was definitely a little annoyed. It was probably because he knew even from the shitty ring camera quality that this was your go to clubbing dress. 

“Hi bubs. It’s Y/B/F birthday tonight.I know your out on a roadie which is why I didn’t tell you.” You said as you bent down so that your face was lined up with the camera. “I am realizing now that wasn’t my smartest idea. I promise I won’t be out long okay? I’ll text you as soon as I get home, Quinny.” Quinn could hear the guilt in your voice and it made his heart break a little. 

“It’s okay baby girl. Just be safe okay. I love you. Also your making me miss you even more cause you look really really fucking beautiful in that dress.” As much as you tried to hide your blush you knew that you were failing miserably. 

“Thanks Quinn. I love you.” as you stood up and blew a kiss to the camera.

7. Fidgety Hughes 

Sometimes Quinn’s fidgeting was out of this world insane even for him. Whether it was that he sometimes let himself get lost in his head and didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. Or if shaking his leg or tapping his fingers on thighs calmed his anxiety. But sometimes his fidgeting was just adorable and this was no difference. Quinn was trying to unlock the door but his hands kept fidgeting probably due to the rough practice or maybe it was just from being tired. But after dropping his keys the fourth time you couldn’t help but chirp him through the camera. 

“I hope you can handle a puck better than those keys Hughes.” Quinn couldn’t help but smile at your voice through the camera.

“Oh I can name a lot of things you tell me all the time I handle better than these keys.” playing along with your antics but with a flirty tone. But then of course he dropped his keys on the floor for the fifth time. 

“Come on get it together bro.” you chirp.

“Don’t be such a brat, unless you need a reminder of who you beg to help you when you have an itch.” 

8. Long Week

Quinn knows that you’ve had a long week and been very stressed because of it. So he stops at the store on his way home and grabs all your favorite snacks that he knows you will want later when you come home from work. He decides to ring the camera to tell you that he got all your favorite snacks and will be ready when you get home for a movie night or whatever you want. Even if it’s The Office which he never even saw a single episode until he met you and you forced him to. He also tells you that he already placed an order to your favorite restaurant for takeout.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (11/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, the angst, semi-public intimacy, cockwarming, description of someone being shot, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He got his girlfriend back.

Not quite in the way he had imagined, but the thought of him being her boyfriend and her taking it seriously made him feel a wave of confidence after years of doubt.

It had to do not so much with the fact that he had gained what he wanted, but rather with the idea that although his grandfather had accustomed him to the thought that there was a path for him only by his side, he now knew otherwise.

Criston Cole had been the first person to reveal to him how tense the situation was among their men, how furious they were that Otto had decided out of sheer spite to bet on Aegon, his pawn, putting too much power in his hands.

Aegon's orders and the fact that some of their bodyguards now had to listen to him made them turn to him, looking for another alternative.

He was their alternative and presented them with his plan.

Having known them for so many years, aware of what their strengths and weaknesses were, he assigned them tasks, spreading his net over the city, slowly tightening the noose around all the places that had ever belonged to Larys Strong.

He had promised his Rhaenys that he would never kill or harm anyone again, at least not in the way he had done so far, so he decided to rely on his wits and logic. He offered the old owners to help pay their debts and cooperate with them in exchange for them giving up the clubs without a fight.

Those who did not agree experienced a loud gunfight and a bit of fear: he paid the police in advance to stay out of it, so no police car came to the addresses indicated even when someone called the police station.

His grandfather was furious and that pleased him most of all.

By focusing on the fight with Daemon he had completely let go of the subject of Larys' legacy and had paid the price. He also felt pride, because in a way he had regained what belonged to the father of the woman he loved, so it was also a tribute to her.

She only allowed him to see her once a week, but they wrote to each other constantly: he out of sheer longing, she to make sure he was still alive.

Sitting on the couch in Heavenly Beach, despite his employees sitting around him, partying with the girls who were apparently most attracted to gangsters, he sat with his head in his phone, writing a message to her, feeling like a teenager in high school.

He grinned involuntarily as he read her reply, feeling the thrill as he did every time she teased him.

She was trying to keep him at a distance and push him away, he knew that.

He swallowed hard when, a moment later, his phone vibrated and his eyes were presented with a photograph of her lying on her stomach, on her body only her panties and top, from under which a little fragment of her breast was peeking out, pressed against the sheet, her loose hair spread in disarray, her lips parted in a sweet, dreamy, warm expression.

He stared at the picture for a moment, feeling involuntarily that he grew hot, his manhood swollen in his trousers. He ran his hand over his chin, sinking into the world of his fantasies, having not been able to experience fulfilment with her for weeks despite her allowing him to touch her.

Partly.

"What are you doing, boss? Have some fun with us. Alice is lovely and lonely." Said Allan, embracing one of the girls, pretty and slim, who giggled quietly, looking him boldly straight in the face.

He got up without a word and went out the back exit to smoke a cigarette, dialing her phone number on the way. She didn't answer for a long time, as was her usual habit, but after a while he heard her sigh on the other end, indicating her impatience.

"– I asked you so many times – why are you doing this? –"

"– I wanted to hear your voice –" He hummed, taking a drag, tilting his head back, enjoying this moment.

Silence answered him on the other side.

"– my grandfather is trying to contact me – to make a deal – to make me his successor again – but I don't know if I want it – what do you think? –" He asked, taking a drag again, the tip of his cigarette turning red with a quiet hiss.

He heard her swallow hard, horrified by his words.

"– don't do it – don't go back there –" She whispered.

They were both silent for a long moment.

"– I'm worried about my mother – she's torn between Criston and her father, she's begging me to come back – she and Cole had an affair for many years, even before my father died –" He said indifferently, looking up at the sky, spotting the outline of a crescent moon among the darkness.

"– did you know about this? –" She asked shocked, and he sighed heavily.

"– yes –"

His girlfriend grunted, trying to speak quietly.

"– she's not part of all this – let her stay out of it – your grandfather's reign won't last forever – Otto wants you to worry about such things – he knows you love and care for her – he'll treat her and Helaena as bargaining chips –"

He nodded, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, having exactly the same opinion as her, surprised at how much peace he felt.

She was the only one who could understand him.

She was the only one he could get advice from.

She was the only one he could trust.

"Thank you. Sleep well."

"I'm here for you." She muttered quickly, as if she feared he was about to hang up.

He hummed under his breath, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on the metal basket, feeling the warmth in his heart at her words.

"I know."

The next day, the sight of her in the library filled him with both euphoria and frustration – he knew she wasn't wearing a bra to annoy him, at the same time tempting him when he knew he couldn't take her, and wanting him to know that any other men could look shamelessly at her nipples.

All his anger at her and what she was doing to him vanished when she pulled her shirt off, her half-naked body covered from the others only by a few rows of bookcases.

Thank goodness it was summer and no one went there.

Her nipples were swollen and hard under his tongue, her breast plump and soft between his fingers. The smell of her naked skin, the heat that emanated from her, her hands clenched in his hair, holding him close drove him mad. His groan vibrated through her soft skin as he felt her hips begin to roll deliberately back and forth, rubbing against his throbbing, swollen manhood.

"– fuck, let me – please – just this once –" He mumbled, switching from one of her breasts to the other, slightly larger, which could not be seen at first glance.

The thought of being so close to her and yet not being able to have all of her, like he had then, that night, was driving him crazy.

This was her punishment for what he had done to her.

He sighed as she rose suddenly from her knees, putting her T-shirt over her head, his hand involuntarily going to her calf, wanting to hold her, his body hot with desire, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

Not yet.

Just a moment longer.

"– baby –"

"– next week Professor Addams is organising a private excavations two hours away from our town – it's a site in one of the medieval fortresses of our region, very important and he needs volunteers – I've offered to let you come and to count it as your student practices, so that you would have to make up less of them during the academic year – professor will rent rooms for all of us in a hotel nearby – if you come and do your best, I'll let you sleep with me –" She said lightly, throwing him a calm, expectant look, like a teacher looking at her student.

He swallowed hard and stood up with her, shocked, his length pulsed hard at her words.

I'll let you sleep with me.

"– do you mean it? –" He asked with difficulty, unsure if he could stand it any longer, if he knew whether he could pass the next test she wanted to put before him.

"– yes, but it's two weeks – you'd then either have to give up your job, or drive to do your errands at night and come back in the morning –" She explained as if nothing had ever happened, grabbing her backpack.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her aggressively to himself, making her body slam into his, his heart in his throat.

"– promise me –"

Instead of words, she did what she'd forbidden him to do since they'd started dating: her wonderfully moist, swollen lips pressed against his, and he groaned loudly, shocked. He sighed, pressing her body closer to his as her slick tongue slid between his teeth, licking him invitingly, making his cock swell painfully hard in his trousers.

I'm not going to make it, he thought, I'm just going to rip her panties off and fuck her on the floor.

She, however, pushed him away, looking at him with her mouth wide open, in her eyes pleading, warmth, affection.

Everything he wanted so badly.

"– I'll write you all the details later – take it seriously –" She mumbled out with a pain from which he felt his heart squeeze, not knowing how to act, feeling with desperation that he was unable to wait any longer.

"– I love you –" He muttered, something in her gaze from which he grew hot.

"– I love you too –"

He stared at her like an idiot, feeling like he was running out of breath, because here she was, for the first time responding to his confession, for the first time saying those words.

I love you too.

He felt something inside him break, that if he didn't feel her right away he would just start crying.

"– I need you – please –"

"– be there –" She mumbled and walked out, leaving him alone.

He thought it was pathetic that he was so desperate that he hid his face in his hands and burst out crying.

He longed for her closeness, for her tenderness, and she only gave him moments when he craved hours, days, months.

He thought heaven and earth might collapse, but he had to go to these goddamn excavations, if only to spend two weeks fucking her all night.

"Two weeks? You shouldn't disappear for that long. The situation is precarious." Said Cole, shaking his head, sitting with him over a drink that same evening.

"I'll be available at night, I'll come by a few times to keep an eye on things. It's only a two-hour drive from here. This case is really important to me." He said, and Criston hummed with understanding.

"I'll do my best, but let's keep in touch."

He nodded at his words.

"Call if something happens."

Even the news that perhaps her ex would be part of their escapade couldn't spoil his mood: he wasn't sure he'd been this excited and terrified at the same time since he was a small child.

On the one hand, it was a dream come true for him, on top of it being in her company; on the other, it was a leap into the deep end of the unknown in a group of people who were strangers and who he didn't know if they would accept him.

He couldn't help the fact that he didn't like to talk much, that others' questions made him uncomfortable, that he felt cornered when too many people looked at him at once.

Nevertheless, as soon as he got the message from her that Daemon had been gone for a few hours, waiting a few streets behind the hotel so as not to arouse suspicion, he pulled up in the car park and got out of the car, looking around.

He thought she would be waiting for him, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

This made him do what he hated to do, which was to ask a stranger something.

A couple of students, looking at him with surprise in their eyes, showed him the way, telling him that his girlfriend was in the area where the research was to take place.

Walking there from a distance, he thought with awe that it was a huge project: there was a gigantic stone fortress towering over them, around which he understood there had been many wooden houses in medieval times, of which there was now no trace.

He swallowed hard when he heard her voice from afar and stepped uncertainly into one of the tents, all eyes on him.

He felt warmth in his heart seeing that she smiled at the sight of him, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

She loved him.

Not even the rage at the sight of Robb could take away the satisfaction he felt at what he had done to her, at the ease with which her body had taken him in as soon as the door from their hotel room had closed behind them.

He wasn't sure if his brain was functioning at all during this act, because he was too stunned by pleasure and desire, the simple, primitive thrusting into her again and again with low, pathetic groans of delight.

She was so wonderfully warm, moist and soft, squeezing and enveloping his cock so perfectly, that he felt like crying.

His niece.

That night they made love twice more, completely bare, with no shame or regret, no thoughts of morality or propriety. What he focused on were her moans, her cunt squeezing him in convulsions of pleasure, dripping with her desire, his lips melting with hers in sticky, loud, deep kisses full of their tongues and saliva, their fingers entwined together in a tender embrace over her head.

They fell asleep cuddled into each other like little children, stirring with difficulty on the single, cramped bed exactly as they had then, eight years ago.

He felt, looking at her peaceful face immersed in sleep every time he awoke in the night, that he had regained something.

He had regained her.

In the morning, to their frustration, their alarm clock woke them up. They were both sleepy and half-unconscious when they showered together, soaping each other's bodies and hair, brushing their lips lazily against each other's, running their hands over each other's naked, wet bodies.

There was something wonderfully natural about the way her figure clung to his, seeking refuge in his embrace, his arms pressing her against his body, his hand stroking her hair, her eyes closed in complete peace.

They both felt it.

His niece froze and blinked when she saw him start to dress, putting on exactly the same clothes as usual.

"No. After all, we will be working in sand and dirt. I told you to take something to change into." She said, and he scratched his chin, recognising that perhaps, indeed, his black trousers and Tshirt were not a good idea for such heat.

"I took my tracksuit bottoms and some other old clothes, but I won't look very neat in that." He confessed with embarrassment, rummaging through his bag.

She knelt down beside him, looking through his things together, apparently trying to find something that would be suitable.

"You have to be comfortable first and foremost. And you have to have a baseball cap."

"What?"

"I took one for you. Otherwise you'll get sunstroke."

It occurred to him, when he'd put on everything she'd told him to, that he looked like a drunk from under the shop. He was relieved when it turned out that she herself had dressed in a similar way, a white Tshirt and tracksuit shorts on her body, a baseball cap on her head, her hair tied up in a braid.

If they were going to look like drunks from under the shop, then at least together.

As soon as they reached the tent where they were all supposed to gather it became apparent that if he had come dressed the way he wanted to, he would have made an idiot of himself.

They all looked alike, dressed in bright, light clothes that might as well have been pyjamas. He pressed his lips together, spotting Robb among the other students.

He hoped he had heard her moans as he walked past their room.

How good she felt with him as he took her for himself again and again.

The professor greeted them and assigned them their tasks. To his surprise and relief at the same time, the man divided them into three groups. One was to be led by himself, another by Robb and the third by his girlfriend.

Her words that she was his assistant and how much the professor trusted her were not mere boasts, he thought with admiration.

He had, of course, been assigned to her group and was relieved at the thought that for the rest of his stay he wouldn't have to look at her ex any more than necessary.

His Rhaenys knew most of the people she worked with, who were simply her colleagues from the lower years of their studies. They had specific spaces designated for research and their task for the day was simple: digging.

Of course, the upper layers of the earth were removed by special excavators, but at some point they had to work by hand so as not to destroy any artifacts hidden beneath the surface.

There was something liberating and relaxing about the fact that this activity of driving a shovel deep into the ground and digging a big hole in it didn't require him to think too much.

After a few hours, he already understood why his niece had made him put a baseball cap on his head and why they had each brought a couple of big bottles of water for themselves: sweat was running down his back from the heat and from time to time he had to take a break to drink.

To his relief, even though the people in the group were talking to each other, fooling around and laughing, they didn't drag him into any discussions or distract him from his work. Rhaenys was digging too, approaching each person when they expressed the opinion that they might have come across some historical relic.

After only half an hour, one of the girls stumbled upon a coin from the 19th century.

The real excitement he felt was when his shovel hit something that clanked as if it were made of metal.

"Rhaenys?" He called, and though the people around him didn't know who he meant, his niece walked up to him, cocking her head in curiosity, her face all pink with exertion.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, and he hit the spot he had just dug with his shovel again, intending to make the same sound.

His discovery piqued interest.

He crouched down, letting his girlfriend, more experienced and confident in what she was doing, take the smaller shovel, digging around the object, one of her colleagues took the brush, shaking the dust off its surface.

"It's a German pistol. Second World War. Very good condition." He stated, and his girlfriend nodded.

"Yes, the Germans were in this fortress in the 1940s. Good job, Aemond, secure it and sign it. Give this object a number as I explained to you this morning." She said, patting him on the back, and he nodded.

"Your first find. Feels cool, doesn't it?" Said the boy, whose name he understood was Cregan, but he didn't know what he was supposed to answer him, feeling uncomfortable at the thought that everyone was looking at him.

"Yeah." He muttered, looking down at his knuckles, for some reason losing the confidence he gained at night in clubs when he was about to put a gun to someone's head.

When he wasn't about to hurt or scare someone he was helpless and didn't know how to act.

They had spent the whole day doing manual labour and although his erection had swollen all over feeling her naked body pressed against his under the refreshing shower, he didn't even have the strength to move, let alone fuck her hard.

So he ended up making soft, tender love to her, his hips rocking lazily inside her, sinking again and again into the tightness of her sticky, throbbing cunt.

Her naked back was nestled against his sweaty chest, his face snuggled against the hollow of her neck as his fingers dug deeper into her fleshy folds with her quiver of pleasure, his free hand holding her thigh spread wide, allowing him to reach as deep as possible with the tip of his erection.

"– no – it hurts –" She muttered, and he froze and stopped moving, rising up on his elbow, his breath deep and heavy, his heart pounding fast in his chest.

"– what, baby? –" He whispered, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her cheek, wanting to make amends to her for whatever he had done to her. She turned her face towards him, stroking his bare arm.

"– when you're too deep – it hurts –" She confessed.

"– 'm sorry –" He hummed, their lips joined in a sticky, wet, tender kiss. He ran the tip of his nose over her face, his cock twitching deep inside her while his thumb teased her swollen clit with lazy, circular motions, her body twitching again and again in pleasure.

He swallowed hard as she rose up and slid his erection out of her, thinking with horror that she had had enough of him and intended to sleep separately, she, however, turned to face him. He sighed, surprised, as her fingers gently grasped the base of his manhood, all soaked from her wetness, directing the swollen, pink head of it against her slit.

With a tentative, slow thrust of his hips he opened her on his fat length, sliding into her slick walls with ease, sinking anew into her wonderful warmth that soothed him.

He moaned softly as she threw her arms around his neck, as her bare breasts pressed against his chest, as her puffy, sweet lips joined his in a greedy, deep kiss full of affection and tenderness. He sank his fingers into the soft skin of her back and buttocks, beginning to pound into her anew, feeling her completely differently in this angle.

They began to pant into each other's throats, licking and teasing each other, a wonderful shudder shook his body as her lips traveled lower, to his jaw, to his neck, to his shoulders, kissing and sucking on him, leaving wet, warm marks behind.

"– fuck – ah –" He exhaled, feeling his cock throbbing hard inside her fleshy walls, the wonderful tingling in his lower abdomen and testicles filling his head with utter emptiness, pure desire to fill her with his seed.

Their foreheads pressed against each other and their bodies intertwined in a loving, close embrace as they began to chase their fulfilment, loud, sticky splats building their way to release.

"– u-uncle – 'm close –" She mewled like a child, her sweet, leaking cunt beginning to clench on his cock, sucking it inside her. He kissed her temple, snuggling her into his body, slamming into her with loud grunts of pleasure.

"– me too, baby – my sweet little girl –" He exhaled and threw his head back, feeling a wonderful, overpowering relief, his erection beginning to pulsate deep inside her, filling her with his semen.

She moaned, rising and falling on his quivering erection, reaching her own peak with a innocent, girlish moan of delight, sending him into a state of complete ecstasy. They hugged each other, saying nothing more, not separating their bodies, wanting to remain as they were now, as close as possible.

The presence of her body right beside him, the fact that her sticky pussy was warming his soft manhood, his arms and hands entwined in a tender embrace made him sleep a stony, peaceful sleep, tired and satisfied.

To his relief, Criston had kept him informed of the state of affairs and it appeared that relative calm prevailed apart from a few minor incidents, so his presence on the scene was not necessary for the time being.

He took malicious satisfaction in the moments when his niece would be called by Daemon, wanting to make sure she was okay. She would talk to him on the phone while his hands traveled over her naked body, stroking her thighs, belly and breasts, his lips brushing gently against the skin of her neck, merely teasing her.

She usually tried to pull away from him when his thumb, seemingly by accident, ran over her nipple, when his fingers sank tentatively into her womanhood, leaking all over from her moisture and his spend with which he had filled her moments before.

Although he was a grown man, he felt like he was a child again.

In the days that followed, he felt that he loosened up a bit with the group of people he had to work with – he didn't talk to them and concentrated on his tasks, but it seemed to him that they simply stopped paying attention to him, which suited him. They were not spiteful or unpleasant about it: they apparently recognised that this was his nature and left him alone.

His Rhaenys was a different person at work: she smiled and joked a lot, easily having dozens of conversations with all sorts of people, even those she didn't know, winning their sympathy. He somehow admired how unforced her talkativeness, assertiveness and empathy were, how easily she made difficult decisions when others were panicking.

"– fuck – I think I broke it –" Cregan said, leaning over something that looked from a distance like a vase still half-buried in the ground.

"– call the restorers – get them to secure the cavities so nothing else breaks and they're able to put it back together later –" She said without a trace of annoyance or aggression. The boy nodded in agreement and stepped out of the big, wide hole they were sitting in, doing exactly what she'd told her.

"You're good at this." He stated as they sat alone at breakfast break under one of the trees, looking at the large stone fortress stretching out before their eyes.

Although their group sat elsewhere, she chose to stay with him, as she always did.

He felt an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart at the thought that, as much as he wanted to, he didn't fit in with neither her friends nor the world.

He was a perpetual obstacle to her, a wall between what she deserved and the miserable scraps she suffered in his presence through his vanity.

She looked at him and cocked her head, a wide smile on her face.

She was happy.

"What do you mean?" She asked, in some natural reflex cuddling her face into his, her hand on his shoulder. He kissed the tip of her nose, stroking her skin with his palm, feeling a subconscious surge of desire, as he always did when she showed him tenderness and interest.

"You're made for this job. For being with these people. But you need to sit with me instead." He muttered wearily, looking down at his fingers in shame.

"I don't have to. No one is forcing me to."

"You're afraid that if you leave me, I'll become the way I was. You're paying the price for my satisfaction."

She leaned in, wanting to look at his face, but he closed his eyes, feeling shame and regret, for some reason unable to enjoy it all, to relax, to let go.

"You would want this, wouldn't you? For me to disappoint you. To pack up and go home, to escape what is uncomfortable for you. Loneliness is safe, I know that better than anyone. But if you want to be alone, what are you doing here?" She asked.

He looked at her and shook his head, feeling tears burning under his eyelids.

"I don't know. I feel good and bad at the same time. I'm fulfilling my dream, I have you, but I can't enjoy it all because in the back of my mind I'm wondering if Cole is going to call me at night to tell me all hell has broken loose. It's like what's going on right now is a dream, and I'm aware that I'm going to wake up. As if I have to watch something I know I'll lose one day." He mouthed, bursting out crying, choking on his own tears. He covered his ears with his hands and leaned his head between his knees, panting loudly, feeling like he was just experiencing a panic attack.

"– God, Aemond – calm down – calm down, I'm here – this isn't a dream – my feelings for you – the fact that you're here – it's all real – don't you feel it? –" She asked in a whisper, enclosing him in the warm, safe embrace of her arms, pressing his face between her breasts where he took refuge.

He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her fingers combing through his hair, on her warmth, on her scent, on the softness of her body.

She didn't let go of him for a moment, stroking his head, neck and back, placing a tender kiss on his temple once in a while. Slowly his breathing calmed, the pounding of his heart slowed, and his body relaxed in her soft, caring, loving arms.

She let him settle on her thighs, let him snuggle into her lap: she stroked him like a small child, saying nothing, letting him just be, drawing on her closeness, her understanding, her wisdom and kindness.

He thought that if he could die now, in her embrace, he would be happy.

Her words and closeness gave him comfort and for that afternoon, looking at her from afar, sitting on the sand, he thought he was truly happy.

Truly at peace.

And then he saw five missed calls from Cole and one message from him.

"I'll go with you." She said, watching as he changed into his normal clothes.

"No fucking way." He growled, looking at her with impatience, wanting her to get the idea out of her head.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car. Don't leave me alone." She begged.

"No. I'll be back before dawn. I promise." He said, kissing her forehead quickly and left, feeling that if he looked at her again, he wouldn't be able to drive there.

Some part of him dreaded going back there, as if being in the light for so long would blind him to the point where he wouldn't be able to see anything in the dark.

Late in the evening, he arrived at Heavenly Beach and went inside, asking one of the bodyguards what had happened. The man nodded towards one of the lodges – his brother was spread out in the company of three girls enjoying himself at his best, buying everyone a round of shots.

"He didn't pay for anything, boss. He says you're the one paying for the booze and the whores tonight."

He moved towards him feeling his jaw clench in rage, the loud music around him ringing in his ears, the twinkling lights around him making him feel like he was about to vomit.

Aegon spotted him and stood up from the couch, pointing at him with his hand.

"Here is my brother. To him you owe such a great party tonight, applause for him!" He called out, the drunken part of the club guests echoed him in euphoria, but the rest were silent, looking at them with concern.

"I think my brother drank too much." He said coldly, towering over him after a moment, looking at him with a dispassionate gaze. "And he doesn't know that he's going to pay for what he ordered and the women he brought with him himself."

"And where's your woman? Hm? Our pretty niece. Did you know, guys, that he kissed her when they were kids? He was already fucked up then." Aegon sneered, taking a loud sip of whisky from his glass, embracing one of his women, a pretty, blue-eyed blonde with his arm.

His men looked at each other in dismay, apart from the background music all around them complete silence.

"Get up, take your whores and get out of my club. Now." He said in a voice that didn't bear objecting, but Aegon only laughed and sighed.

"You know what the worst part is? He's still fucking her. My father was lying dead and he was in the next room banging that poor girl. Tell us, did you rape her? You surely did, she would never want you of her own free will. But in what position? Missionary? No, no, I know! In doggy-style, like a hound. You have always been faithful like a dog. Woof, woof!" He scoffed, and something snapped inside him.

His brother froze, looking at him with big eyes as he pointed his gun straight at his forehead, the girls around him squealed in terror and broke out of his embrace, moving as far away from them as they could.

"– wow, wow, wow – calm down, have you completely lost your fucking mind? –" Aegon asked in a trembling voice, raising his hands in a gesture of submission, and for some reason he grinned broadly.

"– I didn't rape her – she wanted it – we did it a few more times after that – she was always good to me, unlike you – we're together now, you know? –" He hummed, cocking his head with an expression of satisfaction on his face, thinking in the back of his mind that this was who he just was, who he wanted to become.

He felt powerful, strong, invincible.

"– what the fuck are you talking about? –" Aegon muttered, shaking his head as if he thought his younger brother had simply gone mad.

He, however, had never felt his mind so sharp and focused before.

"– our grandfather made you his successor to reason with me – before our father died he said he would pass everything on to me and that was his original plan – but after Larys put the rape pill in her drink, I couldn't let him live – I don't expect you to understand that though – loyalty, devotion, affection – look at you – you must have pissed your pants with fear, am I wrong? – stand up, show yourself to everyone –" He sneered, raising his voice defiantly so that everyone could hear him.

There was complete silence all around them.

"– I said stand up –" He growled seeing that his brother was looking at him with big eyes red from tears, his mouth quivering in horror and humiliation.

Yes, he thought.

Feel what I felt.

He, completely naked then, standing up to his waist in water, his face all swollen from tears.

"– it's an unpleasant feeling, hm? – humiliation –" He said, watching as Aegon stood up slowly, the large, dark stain on his light-coloured trousers suggesting he was right.

He grinned at him and thought that such a lesson would be enough for him, lowering his gun, but his brother threw himself at him, climbing onto the table, wanting to get him with his own hands, and in a subconscious, involuntary reflex he fired.

His brother gasped heavily, as if surprised, and grabbed himself by the stomach, falling backwards onto the couch, another dark spot forming where he pressed his hand.

"– you fucking shot me –" He mumbled out, and he shook his head, feeling his whole body freeze, people around him screaming and running away, his and Aegon's bodyguards starting to shoot at each other, causing a general panic.

Cole grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him towards the side exit, saying loudly that they should call an ambulance.

He saw her sweet face, felt the embrace of her warm arms, her moist lips placing tender kisses on his face.

He thought that if Aegon died, she would never forgive him.

He promised her that whatever happened, he wouldn't be a murderer.

"– this son of a bitch has to survive – do you understand? –" He said and turned, running up the stairs, several of his bodyguards moving towards his brother, trying to stop the bleeding.

Criston nodded and pulled out his phone to make a call to the hospital.

By the time he walked him to his car the ambulance was on its way.

"– get out of here – hide somewhere – you shot him low in the stomach – I think he'll make it – I'll let you know when I find out something –"

He nodded and sit inside the car, hearing the gunshots again – Criston fell to the ground and hid under one of the trucks while he started to back up and with a squeal of tyres drove ahead.

Only now, heading ahead through streets full of lamplight did he wonder what he had actually done.

He had shot his brother.

He told him their secret.

Everyone heard it, Daemon would find out, and she would be in danger.

He swallowed hard, running his hand over his face, thinking that he just wanted Aegon to feel what he had felt for so many years, that he wanted to teach him a lesson, show him who was in charge, who was better, smarter, cleverer.

Who was the better son, the better brother, the better lover, the better man.

But for the first time he asked himself, was he really better than him?

He was just as scared, just as helpless, just as small.

He had nearly killed his older brother.

That thought, and the realisation that Aegon really might not have made it, caused him to burst into a loud, hysterical sob, and cover his mouth with his hand, trying to silence the sound that was coming from it.

As he drove ahead all he could feel was fear, fear of her gaze, her disgust, her rejection.

Why would she want to be at the side of someone like him?

When he arrived it was almost morning, dozens of missed calls from her and messages asking if and when he would be back were evidence that she had been up all night.

Before he walked into their room, he stood outside the door for a moment, wondering how he was supposed to explain this to her, what to say so she wouldn't tell him to pack up and get out of her life.

He had ruined everything.

When he opened the door he had the feeling that his whole body was quivering, stiff and tense: her gaze, her eyes and cheeks were red from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain told him that she was convinced that he had left her, that he had deceived her, that he had used her again.

She rose and wanted to throw herself into his arms, but he spoke up faster, not wanting to deceive her.

"I shot Aegon."

She stopped in her half-step, looking at him in disbelief, her expression seeming as if she hadn't understood what he'd said.

"What?"

He drew in a loud breath, feeling that he was a little boy again, a terrified child who had broken a very expensive, valuable vase and had to explain why it had happened.

"He was fucking mocking me. He implied that I raped you. In my own club. In front of my men." He muttered as if it changed anything, realising how pathetic he sounded.

The thought that he had lost everything again, that there was no way she could forgive him made him hide his face in his hands and just weep.

All he wanted was for her to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, that she knew he had hurt and abused him all his life, that she had witnessed it herself.

That she understood that something had simply snapped inside him.

"Is he...is he dead?"

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself, his breath heavy and hitched in panic, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"I don't know. I shot him in the stomach and he's in hospital. He threw himself at me and scared me and I just fired. He saw I had a fucking gun in my hand!" He exclaimed as if he was ten years old and had just told his mum why his brother was lying unconscious on the floor after their fight.

"So you didn't kill him, did you? You didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. He scared you and you fired, but if he hadn't, you wouldn't have shot him." She said slowly in a trembling, terrified voice, and he lowered his hands, looking at her with big eyes, thinking that some part of him wanted to kill him then.

And then he remembered that after he felt that justice had been done, his hand with the gun lowered.

"– I – I just wanted him to stop laughing – he asked if I acted like a dog when I raped you – and I – God, baby, I told him about us in front of everyone – that we are together –" He mouthed, shaking his head, feeling completely naked, her expression of sadness and disappointment made him just sit on the bed, hide his face in his hands and cry, cry, cry.

"– I didn't mean it – I didn't know what to do – he wanted to humiliate me – me and you by spreading such rumours – I decided it was better to tell the truth than – I don't know – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled, himself not knowing where he was going with this thought, feeling a huge, cold emptiness.

He tensed all over hearing her footsteps, lifting his gaze to her, thinking for some reason that she was going to slap him.

She, however, knelt between his thighs, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"– it would have come out eventually anyway – Aemond, I need to know what is going on inside your mind – if you –"

She asked, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone. He took it quickly out of his pocket seeing that his mother was calling him and swallowed hard feeling that he couldn't do it.

"– pick up – you have to do it, maybe she knows if Aegon is alive –"

But what if his brother was dead?

If he killed him with his own hands?

"– I can't – I don't want to –"

"– Aemond – prove to me who you are – take responsibility –"

He covered his face with his hand as he answered and put his phone to his ear.

"– is he alive? –" He muttered.

"– thank God yes – Aemond –" Alicent said, but he didn't let her finish, afraid of what she wanted to tell him.

That he had already been disgusting as a child and was a disgusting man now too.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Mum, it was an accident, I swear – he was drunk and he threw himself at me seeing that I had a gun in my hand and I just –"

"– I know – Aegon told me everything – he admitted he provoked you – but I don't understand how you could have let this happen – you are brothers – you almost killed each other for what? – for a few bags of drugs, thick files of money? –" She asked, and he closed his eyes, warm tears one after another flowing down his cheeks.

"– he said I raped her –"

Alicent was silent for a moment.

"– where are you now? – come to the hospital – apologise to each other, explain everything, start all over again –" His mother pleaded, but he wasn't sure if there was anything left that they could fix.

"– I don't know if I want to see him ever again, Mum – I want to rest – let him know I hope he recovers quickly and that I'm sorry –" He muttered and hung up, feeling he had nothing more to say to her.

His niece looked at him in pain, her hands on his thighs as she knelt between his legs.

If Alys had been sitting in her place, all he would have thought about was putting his cock down her throat, but in her case, there was something in her expression that made him crave something completely different, but equally intense.

"– please, embrace me –" He mumbled out, before hot tears again ran down his face one by one, his sobs so pitiful that she stood up quickly, frightened, and let their silhouettes fall together on the bed.

It wasn't until her arms hugged him into her chest, when his hands closed on her back, that he felt his whole body trembling.

"– close your eyes – breathe –" She whispered, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, her fingers combing lazily through his short hair.

He did as she said and tried to focus only on the air he was letting in and out of his mouth, all around them the quiet singing of birds amid the rising sun.

"– don't leave me –" He muttered, snuggling tighter into her warm, familiar body, her wonderful scent filling his entire lungs.

He heard her sigh softly, her hand stroked his back reassuringly.

"– I know how much you are suffering – I am here – you are safe now –" She said, and he felt his heart stop for a moment.

I know how much you are suffering.

I am here.

You are safe now.

He had longed to hear this from his mother, his father, his brother, from her for so many years that when it finally happened his body just froze.

"– I love you –" He whispered, however differently than usual, feeling like he was suffocating. "– God, I love you so much –"

His niece texted her friend that she and him had poisoned themselves with something and that they would come to work later, wanting him to take at least a little nap, knowing that he would fall into despair if she left him alone even for a moment.

He fell asleep only when he unbuttoned her shirt and cuddled his face between her bare, plump breasts, the warmth and softness of her naked body, her long fingers running over his head soothed him.

Despite what he feared, she understood him.

It's always been this way.

When she woke him, telling him she had to go, he begged her to just let him stay as he was, her skin warm and drenched with her scent, his body pressed against hers in a natural, vulnerable embrace.

"– I have to – I should have been there hours ago – but you stay, get some sleep –" She whispered, stroking his head. His eyebrows arched in pain as he shook his head at her words, roaming his hands over her body in a gesture of desperation, trying to stop her.

"– no – no –"

"– Aemond – please –" She said in pain, pressing him against her again hearing his heavy, loud breath, tears squeezing into his eyes.

She sighed.

"– come with me then –"

And he did, because he didn't want to be alone.

When they went outside for the first time she took his hand in hers, exactly like when they were little children playing on the beach. He tried to control himself, but the squeeze in his throat was proof that he wanted to cry again.

He was so exhausted.

"– don't work today – sit under the tree – I'll be next to you –" She said when they got there, but he shook his head and squeezed her fingers tighter between his own.

She looked at him with a gaze in which he saw everything – worry, affection, concern, sadness, understanding, desire. He felt his heart grow hot as his free hand rose to her face, running gently over her jawline, and she nuzzled her cheek into it, closing her eyes.

He leaned in and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing he'd ever done – her lips welcomed him with gentleness and tenderness, parting before his tongue, letting him slide it lazily inside. Her fingers stroked his neck as they clung to each other, sunk only in that sweet, sticky pleasure, humming contentedly, not caring if anyone saw it.

And then he heard it.

The screech of tyres.

By the time he heard her squeal and turned to see what was happening Daemon was already standing in front of him, his fist hit him in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, losing his hearing for a moment.

"– STOP IT –" He heard her scream as her step-father turned him onto his back, punching him with his fist again, again and again, warm liquid trickled from his nose, but he did not resist.

"– I promised you this –" He hissed with rage. "– I promised you that if you didn't leave her alone, I would kill you with my own hands –"

"– DAD, STOP – STOP, STOP, STOP –" She whimpered, trying to pull him away, several people interrupted their work, wanting to see what was happening, looking at this scene in disbelief.

Finally, professor Addams and Robb came out of the tent, hearing loud screams outside.

"– what is the meaning of this? – stop immediately, that's my student! –" The professor shouted. Daemon laughed and stood up from his knees, pointing his finger at her.

"– and that's my daughter and I'm taking her home –"

"– no –"

Daemon looked at her in a way that made her tremble with fear, his jaw clenched as tightly as if it was about to burst.

"– with you I will speak later –" He growled.

"– I won't go with you –"

Daemon wanted to grab her arm, and in a natural reaction he wanted to get up and protect her, however he was preceded by Robb, standing between her and her father.

"– she said no – she's an adult – should I call the police? – he can sue you for assault, you know that? –" He asked, a long, heavy silence fell around them.

He stood up, looking at him, then at her, Daemon's gaze fixed on her face.

"– if you don't come back with me, I can no longer protect you – you will break your mother's heart –" He said coldly, his words intended only for her.

He looked at her in horror, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

Her gaze when her eyes finally turned towards him was full of fear that because of him she would lose her future, her family, her peace of mind and everything she had before he stormed into her life again.

"– you promised me –" He muttered in a trembling voice, looking only at her, the only person who could give him what he desired.

She had promised him that if he tried, if he came here, if he changed, they would spend two weeks together.

"– I did –" She whispered and he felt his heart stop, convinced that this was it.

Their end.

"– let's get back to work –" She said and turned as if nothing had happened, heading towards one of the tents, startling him and everyone around him.

"– come here, I said! –" Growled Daemon, wanting to lunge at her and take her home by force, but Robb blocked his way again.

"– enough – one more step and I'll really call the police –" He threatened, her step-father's gaze shifting to his face after a moment.

He turned away, angry and pale, his hands clenched into fists as he got into his car and drove off with a loud screech.

Feeling his heart pounding like mad and not wanting to be left alone with Robb, he moved after her, adrenaline pulsing hard through his veins.

She had sacrificed herself for him.

Her family, her home.

Just for him.

When he stepped inside he wanted to embrace her, but she shook her head.

"Sit down. I'll get you some ice. Your cheek is all swollen." She said calmly, taking a few cubes out of the fridge and it was only then that he saw how much her hands were trembling.

"– baby – come here –" He whispered, gently placing his hand on the back of her head, and although she resisted for a moment, she finally allowed him to put his arms around her and cuddle her into him.

Her body was shaking.

"– I know, baby – it was very scary – I'm here –" He hummed tenderly, stroking her hair and back, his face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

"– I don't think I have anywhere to go back to –" She mumbled out with difficulty, heartbroken, and burst out into a quiet, exasperated cry.

He swallowed hard, hugging her tighter to him, coming up with an idea he knew their family would definitely not like.

"– you will live with me –"

[naomihatake]

Solitude

you can find other zoro fics here: Naomi's archive

pairing: zoro x fem reader

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, consumption of alcohol

summary: One would expect the swordsman to unwind after a battle, but there are times when he can't help but think. Alcohol doesn't always come in handy when a specific crewmate he grew fond of cuddled a tad bit too close to his heart.

word count: 3.3k

theme song: 'Daylight' by David Kushner

A/N: It can be imagined with both anime and opla Zoro. I don't know if he's slightly ooc or not, but I genuinely wanted to dig into this side of a relationship with the swordsman. The awkward times when he's getting used to it and simply accepting everything as a new part of his life.

I didn't forget about my multi chapter fiction, I just didn't find the inspiration for the 8th chapter. I couldn't help but write this for my own comfort and I want to mention that this original art of @tea917339 inspired me (check it out, it's absolutely amazing!!!)

I'm always open for your opinions and comments, so don't be shy about sharing your thoughts with me! <3

Usually, nights with the Straw Hats were lively, even after battles that left the crew members injured and bleeding. They would pick each other up and cheer up by simply bickering — that's what Zoro thought. 

The same way Luffy's hand extended to help him back on his feet after he plopped down on the ground to rest. The same way Zoro reassured Chopper after the kid tried his best not to get emotional afterwards. The same way Sanji threw some remarks and the swordsman spat back in annoyance. And, for fuck’s sake, Nami reminded him for the tenth time that day he owes her berry for something he completely forgot about. Usopp was sighing in relief every time he remembered they escaped with life again while Robin agreed with a soft smile on her face. Truly, it was almost insane — Zoro wouldn't exactly call that a miracle because he's doubtful of its existence. 

However, he couldn't bring himself to cheer up once the celebration of their victory was over and everyone went into their rooms. He was on the night watch and all he found himself capable of doing was burying in memories of all kinds, be it happy or not. With not enough alcohol in his system yet, it was rather hard to push those thoughts into the back of his head. 

The swordsman sat on the deck, his back resting against the wooden cabin. Hidden from prying eyes, he found peace in the temporary silence. Rare were the times when the crew was so peaceful and it was usually during the night, when they were asleep, because otherwise they would've caused a mayhem. 

The side of his mouth curled upwards at that thought. It was equally annoying and endearing, since in the months spent with them he found a lot of things about himself. Like the fact that he found his crew to be a family, like the way he sometimes found peace even in the chaos caused by them. 

Or like the presence he grew way too fond of along the way. That witch — she truly was one, judging by the effect she had on him. Only a spell could've made his mind get so clouded, only some unknown force could've managed to soften his edges so well. She joined the crew from the first day and he believed that a spell had been casted upon him since the first time they gazed at each other. 

Right. Zoro gulped down. The effect she had on him was equally annoying and pleasant. 

Annoying because he should've focused on his promise to Kuina, not get lost in between fairytales. He wasn't by any means the charming prince riding a white horse and he didn't intend on becoming one anytime soon. It filled him up with feelings unknown to him. Zoro might be a fan of adventures and he had rather insane ideas — as one might say —, but such sentiments were an entirely new path to walk on. 

First and foremost, it bothered him the fact that he wasn't sure he could fulfill both his promises and whatever the fuck was going on between him and the witch. He couldn't pinpoint what was happening, it was all in a blur, even if everything was clearing up whenever he saw her. 

That's when he's reminded why he likes their relationship — what kind of, he didn't know. When he saw her, there were always sparkles in her eyes and the smile on her face would grow wider, lines of happiness appearing on her cheeks. The curl of her lips would make his heart skip a few beats and he would relax his shoulders unconsciously. Eyes filled with joy looked at him as if he was the very reason behind her purest sensations. 

Also, not to mention how warm the depths of his chest felt when she was near. The heat would rise to his cheeks, which he sometimes found uncomfortable, but Zoro never ran away. A side of him wished so badly to go the other way and never look back, ignore her and those stupid damned feelings, but he never gathered enough courage to do so. Every single time, he would remain stuck, with his eyes stuck on her frame and fingers aching to touch and lips tingling to kiss. 

God fucking dammit. 

With a curse rolling off his tongue casually as he closed his eyes, the back of his head collided with the wooden wall he rested his back against. Zoro sat with his knees bent and feet planted onto the floor, only his Wado Ichimoji in his proximity. With its hilt glued to his shoulder, the sheathed sword was in between his fingers. By that time, he held it for comfort.

If that's what he could call it. The swordsman wasn't sure what else to associate it with. Or was it familiarity? The white sword was the only memory he had of a long lost friend and his first home at the dojo, by the side of his sensei. It was the only object tying him to his past, to his beginning, to times when he was much weaker, but determined nonetheless. 

To care about his promise was familiar. Zoro wouldn't give it up — proof was the simple fact that he still achieved to become the strongest swordsman in the world. One day, he will meet Mihawk again and when he does, he will be stronger than the first time he encountered him at Baratie. 

Looking back, it's been so long since. So long since a new life appeared before his eyes and he accepted it with no hesitation. He was a pirate, a Straw Hat, Luffy's first mate. The swordsman swore to help his captain achieve his own dream. 

Those promises were familiar. The erratic heartbeats caused by the witch weren't. The sensation settling in the pits of his stomach when her gentle fingers would brush over his arm weren't. It was foreign and it didn't sit well with him. 

Kuina. 

He still saw her face in his dreams sometimes and it was usually her ghost haunting him. Other times, in her place would be one of his friends and each time it was harder to fall asleep. 

When awake, memories of her replayed so vividly in his mind. Swords clashing together and whistling as they cut the air in half. A grin brightening up Kuina's face when he would fall on his butt and cuss her out again. They promised that one of them would become the greatest, but he was the only one capable of that, because her bones lay in a grave somewhere far away. 

Zoro opened his eyes and stared at the night sky with scars scattered all over it. A calming view, even if there was tumult inside of him, hidden in between ribs that broke with each new pump of his heart. His brown eyes fell to the floor and he crossed his arms on top of his knees, gripping the sword tighter. His chest puffed up with air when he inhaled and he let out a heavy sigh. 

“Zoro?” a soft whisper made him jump out of his thoughts. 

The swordsman snapped his head and he was greeted by the sight of someone he didn't even know he was searching for. A side of him wished to say something along the lines of “fuck off” while the other side desperately wanted to soak into her presence. 

A witch, indeed. 

His eyes ran up and down her figure. She didn't seem surprised to find him there, in a rather hidden spot, which meant she didn't search for too long. Did she even search for him or did she also wish to be alone for a while? The first place to search for someone during night shifts was the crows nest. 

She held two bottles of what he guessed to be alcohol and she swung them carefully before stepping closer. His chest tightened and he found it harder to breathe, even if it was inevitably easier than before at the same time. For some reason, she had that effect on him. 

Maybe he knew that reason all too well, but he just avoided thinking of it. 

“You told me we'd drink something together,” she reminded him in that warm voice of hers. 

The sweet melody that calmed his nerves. 

He didn't know what kind of energy radiated off him, but her behavior was far more gentle than usual. She wasn't hesitant, the witch never hesitated around him, she was just mindful of her actions and words. 

He didn't know why for a second he saw understanding in the curl of her lips when she crouched down. Unconsciously, Zoro knitted his eyebrows together in confusion at her gestures. 

The bottles hit the floor and she let go of them. Her eyes sparkled like they always did, but there was something different that time — a warmth they held only when she comforted Chopper or encouraged Usopp. Warmth similar to the shy rays of the sun of the morning, when the cold is still lingering and there's a specific scent in the air. Gentleness he only ever saw in her, because Luffy's kindness was different. 

A warmth so humane that was visible for the crew alone or those in need of it. 

The witch recognized something in his demeanor and Zoro had no clue what that was about. He could only see it in her gaze. 

“I suppose it isn't really the perfect time for me to butt in, hm?” she whispered. 

Like a promise only for him to hear. A secret. 

“How'd you find me here?” he found himself speaking before he thought it through. 

The question made her shrug. 

“I pick up easily on your energy. It's quite unmistakable, y'know?” 

There it was — one of the main reasons why she had the nickname of Witch both on the ship and outside of it. She's spoken about that for a few times and he had to admit he understood what she meant. However, the swordsman only felt those “energies” (as she liked to call them) in specific moments. He remembers that time in Lougetown when everything felt like energy instead of palpable objects, the reason why he won that fight. 

Sometimes he seriously wondered if she hadn't met his sensei at some point in her life. 

“What is it like?” once again, he asked before thinking. 

The witch pulled her lips in a tight line and hummed, gathering the right words to describe it. Her gaze bounced around and she grimaced once, when she probably found her choice of words to be unpleasant or inappropriate — she always scrunched her nose when it was difficult to find the proper terms. 

“It's sharp, but warm. Kind of steady, constantly flickering. For example, Luffy's energy is always all around the place and Chopper's gets out of control easily. Robin has the steadiest energy of all of us, even if it was kind of… strange lately.” 

Zoro arched his eyebrow at the last piece of information and only received a hand waving through the air. 

“Ignore the last part, I'm still figuring it out myself. No need to worry.” 

The swordsman knew the energy she was talking about was different than what he felt when she was in presence, but he wondered if whatever laid in her heart interfered with her ability to distinguish his being from the others. 

He watched as the witch looked at the bottles next to him and then clicked her tongue, deep in thought. 

“I don't know if they'd help you tonight, but I'll let you be.” 

None of those words were accusatory. They were all coming from a place of kindness and patience. 

Suddenly, her fingers curled around his bicep, below the bandana wrapped around his arm. Skin on skin, her touch was hot and pleasant, even if very confusing. 

What was she thinking? 

His puzzled feelings were written on his face. Uncertainty laid in his dark brown eyes and his fingers held onto the sword tighter. He didn't even notice when the grip on his Wado Ichimoji loosened up. 

Her gaze was reassuring as ever and she gently rubbed her thumb into his tensed muscles. 

Zoro had to at least admit to himself that vulnerability was uncomfortable. Without spoken words, she picked up on it. 

“I don't know for sure if I'll get to sleep tonight, so you could cut your night shift in half.” She's having issues with nightmares again? he silently wondered. “I'll be in my room, reading. Do what you see fit.” 

Instantly, she was back on her feet with her back straight and walked away. The swordsman didn't know what happened or what he should understand. 

He was utterly and completely confused. What just happened? 

Oh. The witch gave him space and time to think. She also told him where she was in case he decided to grip at the promise of comfort and hold tightly onto it. The opportunity laid right in front of him and he was the only one to decide whether he used it to his advantage or not. 

Zoro didn't notice when his shoulders relaxed. His body wasn't as tense as a few minutes ago, his back didn't feel as stiff. The exhale he left wasn't heavy anymore. 

The swordsman knew what this was about. Maybe it was the time to just accept his feelings and get on with it. He had to suck it up and deal with it, even if dealing with her wasn't the right way to word it out. It always felt more like she was dealing with him. 

With closed eyes, he remembered the last time her lips brushed by his. Gosh, it was so hot and his blood was bubbling like lava in his veins. It wasn't an accident, he intended on kissing her back with fever, but he had a hard time accepting everything. It was… weird. Facing that reality was troublesome. 

She has yet to lose her patience. The witch remained firm and each one of her questions were answered by gestures instead of words — something familiar for him. She was far more skilled with expressing herself even when sensitive topics came up. 

That was a miracle. Her presence alone could be compared to a miracle because it was completely unexpected and somehow always caressing him the right way. It was scary how accurately she could read him and the same applied to him. 

The sky before his eyes continued to sparkle with stars and he remained still in his place. His fingers caressed the scabbard of his sword as he blinked in the darkness, the chill air of the night invading his lungs. 

It was complicated and so simple at the same time. Zoro knew the answer — he just had to come to terms with it. 

Just as age promised, the witch sat on the bed in her room with a blanket warming her up. The lamp on the nightstand by her side casted a golden light over the pages of a book sitting in her lap. It was hard to focus on the story — a captivating part of pirate's history, sometime before the appearance of Gold D. Roger.

Her thoughts were followed by the swordsman. Zoro's mood was… sad at best. She didn't expect to find him in that state, but she quickly came to the conclusion that leaving him alone might do him good. 

She tapped her finger over the pages of the old book and clicked her tongue. Was it right to leave him? The witch never saw him in a similar mood and she also realized she didn't know how to help him. There could be a lot of ways to bring him back to earth or at least keep him afloat. Those ways were only known by him. All she could do was guess and hope for the best outcome. 

Heavy footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. When it opened wide, there was Zoro's tall silhouette, his white sword in his hand and one bottle of alcohol in his other. He came closer, his face hard as a stone. The pink hue painting his cheeks was the only detail giving away the fact that he drank one of the bottles she brought hours ago. 

“Why aren't you sleeping yet?” he said with a gruff voice as he plopped down on the mattress. 

There were only a few hours left before the sun would rise up from the sea. 

“You've probably guessed already,” she averted her eyes from his figure. 

“Nightmares again?” 

The witch only nodded, eyes focused on the book. Zoro let the sword against the couch. 

“I won't fall asleep, so you could as well take a night off,” only then she looked at him again. 

His darkened eyes have been locked on her since he entered the valley. The witch wanted to move, to eventually get away from his knowing gaze, but she knew there was no possible way to do it. 

“Are you alright?” she blurted out. 

She had to fill that silence with some kind of conversation. Maybe that wasn't exactly the wisest decision, considering his shoulders visibly tensed and he straightened his back. A frown appeared on her face. She regretted talking. 

The witch figured out he needed more time to sort his thoughts. 

“Why don't you go to sleep?” she tilted her head to the side. “The fight has worn us all out. You could rest for a while.” 

“And you?” 

“We'll be sailing for a few days. I can sleep ‘till afternoon.” 

“Nothing will happen for as long as you're on this ship with us,” the reassurance slipped so easily. “Do you trust us?” 

“More than anything,” the witch responded with a faint smile. 

Several weeks ago, her answer and reaction would've been so different. She made so much progress since she first met them, her trust now fully laying in their palms. Long ago, she would've backed away at such a question and, if they were lucky enough, the witch would admit she “needs time to adjust”. 

At first, all he did was lean close enough for his shoulder to touch hers. The swordsman only intended to enjoy some peace while he shared his booze with the witch. From time to time, she'd gulp from the bottle and then give it back to him before continuing her lecture. After each two minutes, the room would be filled by the rustling of pages. 

It didn't last long until he fell into her trap and tiredness dragged him glued to her. With his head in her lap, Zoro bumped his nose in her thigh. The witch's fingers ran through his hair and he let out an audible exhale, eyes closing instantly. Greeted by darkness, he felt warm not only on the inside. The blanket she curled around herself earlier was now covering his upper body as he sunk into the soft mattress and her. 

One of his hands curled around her knee and he dug his fingers into her flesh. Her leg jerked slightly at the unexpected touch, but when he tried to move away, she muttered a sweet “It's okay”, stopping his movements. 

The oxygen in his lungs was exchanged with her perfume and he bit back a groan. Her voice was like a lullaby, even if there weren't many words rolling off her tongue. Zoro wasn't bothered by the light of the lamp, completely forgetting about the world around him once her fingers continued running through his hair. 

His hand traveled up, until it fully rested on her thigh, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin material of her pants. Truth be told, he's never felt better. 

She was a remedy. His remedy. 

“Good night.”

Zoro heard her whisper solely because he was near her; otherwise he would've confounded it with the night breeze. 

Maybe giving in to her affection isn't that bad. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The concept of Lilia raising fem Silver is so cute and endearing. Imagine Lilia and fem Silver having a tea party together surrounded by silver's animal friends while Lilia is dressed up in a pink tutu dress and ROCKING it.

Raising a human child is a lot more different than raising a fae child, but get this; Lilia would have to learn that at a certain age, fem humans get their periods (Assuming fem fae don't have periods?!). Either way, he would panic or be chill about it. He would also have to explain what menstruation is, lol.

Period cramps can be so bad. Luckily for Silver, Lilia knows how to wash blood stains with COLD water (considering he saw a lot of blood in war). He would bring her snacks and comfort her best to his abilities, and he would make sure to keep menstrual products in the house or carry some with him for emergencies. I know, I'm just rambling at this point, but idk it's really cute to think how Lilia would raise fem Silver.

So, while i agree with you that Lilia would raise normally just like how he raised Silver in Canon, i do think there are quite a few differences, especially when it comes to such things such as Periods, buying bras and so on.

[Other Lilia raising fem!Silver posts here and here!]

In my original post, I was speaking only from a socialization angle since a lot of what we see as "gender norms" are the result of how we were raised and taught. On that front, I don't really see Lilia changing one way or another. Of course there would also be biological differences that Lilia would have to become accustomed to, and those he would have to tackle differently.

I imagine he would mainly ask the Zigvolts for assistance in this regard, since they already help with watching Silver while he's busy with other matters in canon. Even if we assume that female fae do not menstruate, Mr. Zigvolt is a medical professional who would have some understanding of menstruation (due to taking A&P classes), even if his specialty is teeth. He could at least refer Lilia to the proper resources or a medical professional with more relevant knowledge. If we assume that female fae do menstruate, then Mrs. Zigvolt could be comforting and understanding of Silver's situation. Maybe even Sebek's older sister could pitch in as well!

Either the Zigvolts could explain menstruation to fem!Silver or Lilia could? Knowing how… tactless… Lilia was when dealing with Silver learning he was adopted though, it might be a mixed bag. Lilia might go for a silly explanation, an actually wise one, or he might pull out all the stops and try to reenact the story of an egg cell being expelled from the body via hand puppets. When fem!Silver isn't feeling well, Lilia can sit by her bedside and sing (screamo) lullabies or recount tales of his travels until she's soothed off to sleep.

Imagine Lilia having to take Malleus aside to explain how menstruation works to him too (when Malleus shows confusion at fem!Silver kneeling over mid-training). Maybe Sebek would already know about it because he has a decent sized family and he expresses his concern in the typical Sebek way. "Hmph! If you find yourself faint, it shall be an easy victory for me—but there is no glory in that. Sit this one out, and once you’ve collected yourself then you shall be a worthy opponent!”

... But it would be sort of funny if Lilia asks the QUEEN of Briar Valley for help on this 🤡 "Your majesty!! My little human child is gushing out blood from down there, does she have a wound? Will she bleed out? Should I be concerned") I also find it really ironic that Lilia, an infamous retired general, probably already has knowledge of how to wash blood out of fabrics due to his experience in war. Now he can repurpose that skill to help out his daughter 😂 Just don’t trust Lilia to make snacks for fem!Silver cramping up, he’ll only make the cramps worse with his cooking…

Anyway, I enjoy the idea of Lilia being a father that supports both Silver's (traditionally) feminine and (traditionally) masculine interests and is secure enough in his own identity to engage with them. He'd have so much fun dressing up with Silver and having those tea parties with the animals out in their yard.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I please request a romantic Cersei Lannister (GoT) scenario with an-ambivalent's prompt 19 and inuzkua's prompts 12 + 16?

Maybe darling is a hostage/prisoner that she develops a fascination with, or they could be from a family that depends on the Lannisters for protection? Darling tries very hard to keep a stiff upper lip about their situation but Cersei tries equally hard to get under their skin >:) I attempted to come up with an actual plot but failed - I can just so easily imagine Cersei saying these 😆

🕊️ anon

I despise Cersei in the show (I'm not far in, Season 2ish-) so I'm going to enjoy writing Darling's conflict in this. Who knows, I might like her the more I write for her. I purposefully made it vague when this takes place so it applies to all plot points. Just a warning, the start is a bit weak as I'm not good with build up. I should probably look for help when it comes to that in my fics ^^;

As usual, prepare for triggering themes, this is GOT after all.

Prompt 19 Here

Prompts 12 + 16 Here

Yandere! Cersei Lannister Prompts 19, 12, 16

"Your happiness, your tears, your love, your hate – all of it belongs to me."

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

“Denying me will only hurt you in the long run”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Blackmail, Gaslighting, Forced kissing, Mature themes implied, Imprisonment, Trust issues, Possessive behavior, Mentioned Jaime x Cersei, Threats, Stalking, Harassment, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship implied.

Your House relies on the Lannisters for protection as most Houses do. Even if you despise the Lannisters, you can't defy them. You've seen what happens to those who don't listen to the royal family.

Those deemed untrustworthy are butchered like pigs. Their family, their House, threatened into submission or outright eradicated. The Lannisters require submission.

No matter the cost.

As a member of your House, you listened to the Lannister's orders. For the sake of your House's safety, you stayed stoic. You hate what the Lannisters do, but you can't bear the thought of your family being executed for your disobedience.

You thought you could get away with it. You thought you could do your job and not catch any attention. You wouldn't snoop for secrets even if you could tell the queen's children did not belong to the king. You never even spoke much unless you had to.

You kept to your duty... never saying a word about gossip...

Yet Cersei still managed to find you.

Cersei had her own reasons for keeping an eye on you. Originally it was because you could be a suspect for being a spy, perhaps you even heard something you shouldn't. However... Cersei began to realize her fixation on you wasn't paranoia related.

It was very similar to the many partners she's had... almost as intense as how she feels for her twin... you were an intriguing case to her...

One she simply must investigate.

For a long while she's been having you monitored. She excuses it as suspecting you of being a spy. Even to the point of ordering you around known gossip areas so you would have taboo information.

All while she watched you... falling for you further and further... it's not the first time she's been in love.

To explore her new feelings for you, a simple servant or guard, she calls you to a meeting. She gives you a message that you two simply must talk. A royal meeting without the council in her chambers. Obediently, you follow without question.

All while Cersei plans how to manipulate you into her desires.

"It's been difficult to find allies to trust..." Cersei admits, eyes never leaving your own. You're tense under her gaze. Meetings with the queen... never had good news. "I do assume your family is still loyal to the crown?"

"Of course, my queen." You agree, stoic and compliant. Anything else could easily mean death. Cersei hums when she notices your obedience, stalking closer.

"Tell me, have you been keeping yourself out of trouble?" Cersei asks, watching you tense under her scrutiny. "Do you know why I've summoned you?"

"No, my queen..." You answer, Cersei's gaze as predatory as a lion as she watches you. She stops in front of you, the queen's gaze glinting mischievously.

"What would you do for your queen...?" Cersei asks, watching your confusion in amusement. "Would you give anything to your queen? Would you sacrifice anything?"

You hesitate, but there's only one right answer to her question.

"Yes, my queen." You bark like the obedient lap dog you are, even if it pains you. You may hate the Lannisters, you may hate Cersei and her damned offspring and twin, yet you know how to survive. You know how to lie.

Although... Cersei knows how to lie better.

"Really? Anything?" Cersei pushes, stepping closer. You're stoic yet back up, the queen stalking you like the lioness she is. "You'd do anything to protect your queen? Even if it meant discarding your House?"

"Yes, my queen." You continue to parrot, your feelings untrue. Truthfully, you only do this for your family. The Lannisters can be banished to the Seven Hells for all you care.

"... you're a poor liar." Cersei frowns, making you freeze.

"What...?" You ask softly, Cersei looking unamused for a moment.

"Don't act so surprised, I see that look in your eyes." Cersei interrogates, pacing around you. "Your House has been suspected of having spies conspiring against the crown."

"My queen, I swear I haven't-" You try to defend yourself and your House, falling for the lies that spill from Cersei's mouth. The queen is rather good at manipulation, after all. She knows how to lie...

She knows how to back you into a corner like any good hunter.

"I've seen who you talk to. I suspect your loyalty to the crown is faltering. Now, tell me, are you a traitor to the crown?" Cersei murmurs, standing beside you. "Do you hate me? Do you hate my family?"

Cersei's gaze is clearly judging. Right now, she acts as your judge... and quite possibly your future executioner. The queen is accusing you of crimes you haven't commit...

A tactic she often uses to get her way.

A tactic she plans to use to wrap you around her finger... to make you hers....

"I am loyal to the Lannisters, my queen." You force yourself to say, dreading the proximity between you two. The queen hums again, thinking, before placing a hand on your shoulder.

"There's no need to hide it, you hate your queen." Cersei hisses softly. She already knew the truth, yet it still makes her bitter. "It doesn't matter... hate me if you wish... I'll just convince you to listen to my orders regardless."

You go to protest, to continues appeasing the queen, but she cuts you off. She stands in front of you now, two hands meeting your shoulders before trailing down to your hands. Her gaze is distant for a moment, gazing at something she knows she can't or shouldn't have...

But Cersei isn't new to controversy.

"Prove to me your loyalty and I'll spare your House." Cersei whispers, gripping your hands tight. You pause, the implication... unnerving. "Show me you'd do anything to please your queen, to avoid my wrath, and I will pardon you."

Cersei once again speaks as though you're guilty. You want to protest, to tear your hands away... but the fear of execution lingers in your mind. Your stoic behavior slips when she traces her hands over your attire, staring at you greedily.

Cersei was always a seductress to anyone around her....

"What will you have me do, my queen?" You answer, hoping to leave as soon as possible. Your thoughts pause when Cersei quickly grabs your chin.

"I want you to stay still... I've been craving this since I saw you..." Cersei whispers, pulling you forwards to press her lips to yours.

Her lips taste sweet like saccharine, yet feels like arsenic in your veins. Cersei seems to enjoy the kiss with you while you suffer. When the queen goes to deepen the kiss, to satiate her lingering desire that's been festering...

You pull away.

Cersei pants softly, but her tone flickers to annoyance when she sees you pull away. You pry her hands off you, only for her to hold your face. She stares into you... you can see anger bubbling before she smothers it.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” Cersei asks, already seeming to miss your taste. Her question is merely a command to get you to please her. She knows you hate her, she knows you hated the kiss, but she wants you to listen to her. She wants you to say you liked it... to obey her subtle threat.

You only care about your House, don't you?

Seeing your conflicted gaze only adds to her amusement... yet also her disappointment. She despises your hesitation almost as much as you despise her. Despite this, she waits for your response.

The tension thick enough even the sharpest blade couldn't cut it.

"... I did not, my queen." You choose honesty over your role, already sensing your fate being decided. Cersei's gaze flickers again before she hums, caressing your cheek again.

“Denying me will only hurt you in the long run.” Cersei warns, pulling you to look at her again. "I appreciate you showing your true colors... but I ordered you to listen to me. Did you like the little gift I gave you?"

This time you comply, nodding softly. Your stoic face breaks more and more. Her threat rings true in your ears. You know if you continue to play this game your life is in ruin.

"Yes, my queen." You answer, Cersei pulling on a smile.

"You are mine to do with as I wish, yes?" Cersei asks, gaze darkening. There was no use fighting her. You could hate her guts all you want, but you ultimately had to bend the knee to her.

"Aye...." You answer, hating how she treats you as some loyal hound. Cersei chuckles softly, enjoying the thought of breaking you.

"Your happiness, your tears, your love, your hate – all of it belongs to me." Cersei orders, caressing a hand down your body as she holds your chin. "Isn't that right? Don't you belong to me? Aren't I your queen?"

You swallow your pride, the thought making uou nauseous. Her touch feels grating against your skin. It's possessive, tight, threatening...

A lioness playing with her prey.

"Yes..." The response feels like it's tearing your throat apart. "I am loyal to you... my queen."

Cersei shows satisfaction at seeing you submit to her order. She grins for a moment, expression sly as she leans closer. She holds your chin up, observing you quietly.

"That's pleasing to hear..." She whispers, grip tightening all of a sudden to make you gasp. "I will spare your House... but..."

Her grin is devilish, kissing your cheek teasingly.

"I still must imprison you for conspiring against me. But do not worry..." She whispers, seeing the fear on your face. "The House you care so much for will be safe...."

It's then Cersei orders guards to take you away, ordering them to be gentle as they drag you to a cell. Cersei grins, still satisfied with the fact she toyed with you. Off you go to your cell...

She masks it as punishment, a punishment for conspiring against her... for hating her...

In reality, it's just meant to keep you close to her... forever hers... reliant on her at all times.

[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[midnightechoes]

So this week is going to go down as maybe the most sapphic week in animation history. It’s going to have a great case, there are so many sapphic shows or shows with prominent sapphic couples airing this week.

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Here’s a quick rundown:

Yuri Is My Job!

Premiering on Crunchyroll on April 6th.

Yuri is My Job! is based on a yuri manga of the same name. It follows high schooler Hime, who cares deeply about her image as sweet and helpful, even though she’s actually selfish. She accidentally injures the manager of a cafe, and agrees to work there to make up for it. But this is no ordinary cafe, it’s like a cafe dinner theater where all the waitresses play characters from a fictional high school and act out skits for the patrons. Hime’s character is supposed to be in love with one of the other waitresses’ character, but she starts actually falling for the girl. Only problem is, behind the scenes the other waitress seems to hate her.

Yeah, that sounds kind of bonkers! I can already see the story now, Hime starting out playing a role, and eventually having to legitimately earn the love of Mitsuki.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story

Season 2 premiering on Crunchyroll on Friday, April 7th

Ah Birdie Wing. If you saw season one, you know just how delightful wacky this show is. It follows the stories of Eve, a golfer that plays in illegal underground golf matches for the mob, and Aoi, a golf prodigy and the new sensation of the golf world. Their lives crash into each other and the chemistry is overwhelming and immediate.

Technically Eve and Aoi aren’t canon as of the end of s1, but it’s hard to imagine that the show isn’t heading in that direction. It makes no effort to hide the fact that these two are into each other.

I’m so excited to see what season 2 has in store for these two. Birdie Wing is just a delightfully weird little show.

Princess Principal: Crown Handler Chapter 3

Premieres in theaters in Japan on Friday, April 7th

Alright, so this won’t be useful to a lot of people reading this, as this is only premiering in Japan this weekend. But I wanted to mention it because (a) it’ll come over to the US sometime this year, and (b) Princess Principal is awesome and I want to promote it when I can.

Princess Principal was a 12 episode series that aired in 2017, and Crown Handler is a six-part sequel OVA series.

In a nutshell, Princess Principal is a steampunk spy thriller set in an alternate universe European kingdom that has been divided by a wall, Berlin-style. It follows a team of spies, masquerading as high school girls, as they try to prevent the two sides from going to war.

I know, “why is this on a list of gay shit?” Well, because it is. Two of the main characters, Ange and Princess Charlotte, are big-time into each other and while the original series does the anime thing of “we’re only allowed to go so far with this”, the OG series has a lot of intimate scenes between the two and does end *SPOILERS* with the two of them sitting on the beach together while holding hands.

And perhaps Crown Handler, being made years later, can finally take their relationship farther.

RWBY Volume 9

Volume 9 episode 8 airing on Crunchyroll on Saturday, April 8th

RWBY has been ongoing, and the current volume has been airing since February, but there’ll be another episode this Saturday. Right now RWBY is in the middle of dealing with a lot of trauma, BUT, the bees are canon and dating so every episode of RWBY is now officially gay. So says me.

The Owl House: Watching and Dreaming

 Series finale airing on the Disney Channel on Saturday, April 8th

I’M NOT READY TO LOSE THIS SHOW! 😭

*ahem* The third and final season 3 special airs on Saturday, and promises to be mega emotional and super gay.

I’m grateful that this show had a chance to finish its story, something a lot of sapphic media doesn’t get to do. But I am still pissed about it getting cancelled in the first place simply because it didn’t fit their “brand” (read: this show is too gay for Disney).

But I just know that Dana and her team put together a sensational finale.

Mobile Suit Gundam: the Witch From Mercury

Season 2 premiering on Crunchyroll on Sunday, April 9th.

Affectionately called G-Witch, season 1 of this show was a revelation in the fall. It follows the story of Suletta Mercury, precious cinnamon roll and the most talented mobile suit pilot around, and Miorine Rembran, daughter of the president of the Benerit Group, a mega-corporation that has massive political power.

The show revolves around a school that’s mostly full of the children of powerful people. And then there’s Suletta, a nobody that just wants to be a normal girl and have a normal school life but through a series of events ends up in a mobile suit duel that she easily wins, earning her the title of Holder, which makes her Miroine’s groom.

At first, the two treat the arrangement as a business arrangement, both seeing practical value in this arranged engagement. But it’s obvious that Miorine is actually pretty into Suletta from the start, and we see Suletta slowly falling for Miorine too.

G-Witch is incredible. Part awesome mecha fights, part political intrigue, part romance between two useless girls who’d rather die that admit their actual feelings.

I am SO EXCITED for season 2!

LGBTQ media hasn’t had it great as of late, with a ton of frustrating cancellations and it almost feeling like Hollywood is going backwards in terms of its commitment to giving us space to tell our stories.

But animation, both in the US and in Japan, seems to be making great strides, being our light in the dark.

All five of these shows are airing episodes this week, and Crown Handler will be in theaters this week and on streaming/blu-ray later this year. RWBY has been airing for weeks and its been the gayest volume yet. the Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady just finished airing and was wonderfully sapphic. I’m In Love With the Villainess is scheduled to air sometimes this year. And just maybe we might get Arcane season 2 before the end of the year.

I’m excited for how sapphic and yuri animation is progressing, I hope it keeps going forward.

[lillysbigwilly]

gf!ellie headcanons

starting off, ellie would introduce you as ‘the mrs’ or ‘my wife WHEREVER you go. i mean everyone, would hear those words whenever your in view

“oh look there’s the mrs now” or “there’s my wife”

quite nights in with gf!ellie >>>

she’d 100% play guitar and hum songs when you’ve had a long day and need sleep

couldn’t believe you actually agreed to go out with her originally, she genuinely thought you where straight until you blabbed about your ex girlfriend one night

will drag you everywhere with her. seriously if this woman needs a piss at 3 in the morning you best believe she is waking you up just so she can use the toilet while you stand lazily by the door

VERY protective over you, im not joking. if your on patrol together, she’ll always be behind you so nothing can jump at you without you realising

she tries not to let you kill anything, whether it’s infected or raiders but when you do team up to kill a large group of infected. your an undeniably good team.

ellie will (and this isn’t up for discussion) always talk through arguments. there is no going to bed angry with ellie as a girlfriend. everything is sorted within the hour.

you two are the centre of attention at Jackson parties. not only because your one of the few lesbian couples there but because after a few drinks, you both get quite handsy and dance carelessly together

the first kiss with ellie definitely happened randomly. maybe you were making food and ellie just walks in, grabs your face and kisses you.

you where the first to say ‘i love you’ because ellie was scared that admitting it aloud would be stupid. everyone she has loved before, had died.

it would be a cute moment though. just imagine sitting on the couch with ellie whilst she plays the guitar. your just admiring her with a smile as she strums chords and puts together a little tune.

you just couldn’t help but blurt out those three words. ellie’s movements stilled as she looked up at you, her eyes wide and her mouth open

she will so casually pull one of these after you say what you said

you knew she wouldn’t say it back but once she composed herself she just gives you a smile and grabs your hand, bringing your knuckles up to her lips

it would take her a while to say it back. it would probably be after either you or her get injured pretty badly.

speaking of injuries, she wouldn’t let you touch a single wound. ellie would clean and dress them while you just sit there watching her with an amused smile

sometimes, ellie would get on your nerves with how late she has a tendency to stay up to. you’ll be in bed and you’ll hear ellie screaming at the tv (either at a game or a film). knowing she got into bed with you at eleven, you checked the clock and saw it was 2am

if ellie wakes up before you (which is incredibly rare) she’ll bring you whatever food was being served in the dining hall and a coffee for you to have breakfast in bed.

gf!ellie would 100% get a tattoo that reminded her of you. something like a flower or an object that you loved

no thoughts just gf!ellie

[renxholics]

❝ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐊 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀 ! ❞

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ❝ 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! ❞

﹟sebek : x gn!reader. cw children last two paragraphs. a lot of people headcanon sebek as mean, but i kinda think he’s like his dad in denial, so spreading my soft!sebek agenda.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ as much as i’m a firm believer that sebek is an absolute pain and likes to yell human and things, he’d be actually very soft. i imagine he’d not understand at all how his mother fell for a human but then it hits him like a truck when he realizes he likes you and he’s very soft for you. will still yell in a softer tone and call you human but 10/10 worries for you, carries your things, and acts like a proud puppy when you compliment him for being so strong and cool because he wants you to depend on him like a loyal knight. i’m not saying my portrayal of him in love is canon or anything, i’d just like to see things like soft sebek more often. i think he’d respect his mom and look like her, but resembles his dad more than he thinks, especially when it comes to his way of love.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ sebek can be very degrading and aggressive from an outsider’s perspective, people wondering if you really agreed to be in his general vicinity of your free will at times, but he’s a good boy at heart. not many people can stick it out and stay by him, so if you take the time to just listen and inquire a bit, it’s absolutely easy to make him melt. rather than calling him strange or far too dedicated, tell him he’s doing a great job and he’s cool, he will get flustered very easily.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ sebek tells you about how weird his father is and fails to understand why you chuckle at him. he’s holding your hand in his, the other arm carrying your bag he refused to let you carry because you’re a weak human, one that he really cares for. he proceeds to ask you why you’re laughing, only for you to laugh harder to yourself as you remember the night before he helped you do your assignments and taught you what you didn’t understand without once getting frustrated with you, making sure you understood the material under the guise of wanting you to uphold your honor.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ sebek definitely likes to be the big spoon and have you in his arms because he’s the strong knight, but does not mind being the little spoon on occasion. i headcanon his father is also a little spoon but father zigvolt is a different story. sebek enjoys your warmth as he’s cold blooded, resting his head against your chest as he curls into you, holding you close as he inhales your scent, feeling safe. sometimes he fails to realize you’re the one wearing the pants in the relationship as he follows you around doing groceries, getting what you need done.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ sebek says matching clothes are very stupid and you wearing his clothes is weird but surprise surprise he has matching clothes with you. his clothes are very warm and it makes him really happy to see some kind of him on you, like his clothes. 10/10 denies this but if you ask really nicely he will avert his gaze and not respond because he can’t lie to you when you look at him like that. you also have a matching set of holiday pajamas with his family because his parents loved that idea a whole lot.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ father!sebek who one day has a child with you, adoption or biological, fretting over his child secretly. he tells you he knows the child will be strong, along with explaining to you he’s not going to be weird and gushy like his father. he very much so is and likes to visit the baby when you’re busy or asleep and watches over them, heart melting as the little hands grip his larger ones. he’s smiling to himself with sharp teeth on full display as the baby laughs.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ father!sebek who carries a baby in his baby carrier when you’re busy with work for the day and he’s spending time with the baby. originally rejected the idea but you put it on him and for some reason there’s a baby in there already and he’s gone out to exercise, goodbye, you’re not seeing him or the baby for awhile because they are absolutely bonding, as much as a grown man and his baby can. lilia approves of this because he gets to see the baby during morning.

@𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐗𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐒 : no plagiarizing, reposting, or claiming as your’s.

following channels [tag list] : @h0n3ysgh0st : quick soft agenda headcanons because i need to spread the message that i personally think he’s just like his dad, in denial though.

[mrsnancywheeler]

can’t help but wonder what daisy has to say about billy and his muse… hmm. i feel like she’d have some words about muse’s age, how young she is, and since she’s always starting fights with billy to begin with i can’t imagine it would do poor muse any good. i think daisy would feel some sort of kinship with her because of their shared experiences with absent parents and getting into bad situations with people older than them, i just don’t believe she would handle it responsibly 💀 wanting to help muse develop her own sound and come into herself musically outside of billy dunne and the rest of the band turns into holing up at daisy’s place for days on end and getting ridiculously high together. and i doubt billy would be too happy with his girl showing up completely strung out after vanishing off the face of the earth for a week either. hanging out with daisy feels good but frequently makes things worse instead of better. they’re so interesting i love thinking about them

I'm literally sat for this, I've been thinking about this since it was sent it and need to doscuss with y'all

okay so timeline wise I imagine muse met billy when they were still just the six but like after they'd gained some fame. obviously in this universe there's no camilla, I'd never hurt my girl more, and so billy is just a ticking time bomb of fame and ego and all of his dreams. and he's good but not as good as he thinks he is so when teddy has the idea to give an edge to the six by a collaboration with daisy jones he's still obviously very pissed but now muse is there too, there relationship is probably like 6 months old or so.

and daisy is changing lyrics, she brings so much energy into the studio, she's fun, and muse is young and I think instantly drawn to the magnetic field of daisy jones. kind of in awe of daisy which billy can't fathom because he's too busy being miffed about the whole ordeal. and in this version look at us now is about muse and billy, and daisy see's right through the original lyrics and her changes make muse feel more seen. so she listens to billy bitch and moan but secretly agrees.

and muse definitely pushes for daisy to be in the band, "billy's an ass, but everyone thinks you should join. he'll get over it eventually and realize."

and daisy is just open and honest about her thoughts right off the bat, "why do you stay with him? if he's an ass, then why?"

and muse is taken aback but also honest back because it feels right, "I don't want anyone else. not the way I want him."

daisy does get to join the band and with that she learns a lot more about muse and billy, more to dislike about the arrangement. muse is so young and attached, the only other person she turns to is eddie who obviously also wants to be with her, and daisy feels like any spark that muse has is quelled to play cheerleader for billy. and she respects that muse doesn't want to be a star but she tells her to write, or to talk and daisy will cultivate the ideas.

daisy definitely gets involved in a couple of fights that muse and billy have. "plenty of groupies to go around, don't need one wasting my goddamn time"

"don't fucking talk to her like that!"

"daisy-" you're trying to deescalate because you knows daisy and billy just make the fight worse.

"she's a person, a child, not something you get to call whatever you want when you're pissed off." daisy's turning to you, "c'mon let's go get some air, away from this asshole."

"you can't just walk out of rehearsal, daisy!" billy's calling after but you let daisy guide you.

"watch me!" and you and daisy are sitting outside, she's handing you some pill that you barely question before taking.

"you know, it's okay, it's just the way it is. no reason to fight more because of it."

"no, it's not okay. you know just because he's older and gives you what you crave doesn't mean you need him, right?"

you pause, "I know." you sigh, "daisy, I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself, I know what's going on."

"sure you do, chickadee." and suddenly it's like something lights within her and she's searching her pockets for a paper of napkin, "do you have something to write with?" and she ends up scribbling something you're not allowed to see on a napkin with your lipstick. eventually she makes it a song about you. and then your though and frustrations eventually become many many more songs.

and once during one of the breaks where they've got some time rather than muse spending time with billy she goes to hang out with daisy, which ends up being the whole of the break. she's with daisy, screaming out every frustration into metaphors daisy is scribbling out as they dance around to records taking every pill daisy can get hands on, lines off every surface, so many bottles completely empty. and whenever you just want to call billy or sometimes eddie, daisy totally encourages against it because, "you don't need them!" and when it's finally time to go back to the studio daisy has started to realize she handles highs terribly but better than you, who's not used to taking nearly as much as daisy does.

once they're stepping out of that taxi, billy's first words quickly form from a, "where the hell were you?" to a , "what is she on?" hands softly gripping your face, looking into her eyes, knowing you're gonna feels like crap later. and he's gonna end up nursing you out of a bender, daisy's kind of scared that you were so out of it by the end. so it creates another conflict when she's saying billy is horrible to you and billy brings up how she usually gets you too high to function.

let me know y'all's thoughts bc I'm definitely already cooking up more

[fizzyxcustard]

Just My Imagination.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x Original Female Character (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Undercover agents, angst, insecurity, anxiety.

Word count: 5725

Summary: From the imagine: "Imagine that you are on an operation with Lucas North, where you have to use a cover story that you’re in a relationship. Only Lucas plays the part a little too well."

Comments/Notes: Requested by anon. Requested as Lucas x Amy. THANK YOU. You know how much I love writing about Lucas and Amy. This piece was requested to be a romantic comedy, but I’m so sorry to say that it wound up just being angsty again. 

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Operation Greenacre. 

Amy looked back over the folder in front of her, memorising all the information inside. Her name while on this operation was Amanda Reynolds, an office assistant in central London at a family law firm. Recently engaged to boyfriend of two years, Ben Waverley, aka Lucas North, her current operation partner. 

Amy and Lucas had been given keys to a one-bedroom flat where they would act out their pretend lives, hoping to gather more inside information from their next door neighbours, a couple who were potentially funding terrorists through their charity. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” Lucas asked, hovering at her desk. “If you don’t feel comfortable then tell Harry and we can stand you down.”  

“I don’t want to let anyone down,” Amy sighed, giving him an anxious and embarrassed smile. Next to Jo Portman, Amy was the closest in age to Lucas, so could easily pass off as his fiancée. However, Jo was on another operation. 

Lucas pulled a chair across from the desk opposite and sat down next to Amy. “Look, you’ve never done this before, and it’s kind of going against procedure here and taking a risk. You don’t have to say yes just to please Harry or to impress anyone. Your safety and wellbeing comes first.” 

“But the only other person is Ros.” 

“So?” Lucas asked, raising his eyebrows. “Ros and I have had cover stories before where we’ve been in a relationship. We can easily make it work.” 

Amy looked at Lucas and felt the butterflies flap more viciously in her stomach. The man was gorgeous, and in Amy’s mind her being seen as his fiancée was even more inconceivable than Ros taking the place. Ros Myers had the confidence and grace that Amy didn’t. Amy was of short stature, more curvaceous, with short dark hair and what she considered more ‘plain’ features. While Amy had proven herself as a damn good analyst and office based intel officer, her confidence waned when venturing into new situations, or when in the company of Lucas. 

*

Near the end of Lucas’ shift, he tapped on Harry’s door. 

Harry Pearce, government renowned intelligence officer and senior lead of Section D, raised his head. “Yes, Lucas. Come in.” 

Lucas closed the door behind himself and sat down opposite the middle aged man. “I want to talk to you about Operation Greenacre. I don’t think Amy is ready, Harry. I’ve got a feeling that she’s accepted this to try and prove herself to you.” 

“Is this because you’re concerned about having to watch out for her, or a genuine interest in her safety?” 

“I can’t believe you’d ask me that question,” Lucas scoffed. “I’m worried for her, not me. She’s not ready for field work. Can we just ask Ros to do it?” 

“Lucas, Amy has already agreed to this and your documentation is being processed. I can’t stop this from going ahead, and Ros has, as of this afternoon, been put onto Op Hickory. I trust that you’ll be able to help her; the two of you seem to work well together and there’s something about the way she interacts with you. There’s an ease and a trust I sense.”

“I’m not questioning how we work together. I’ve always got on very well with her.” 

Harry saw a very faint blush hit Lucas’ cheeks, which was quite rare for him. Not much seemed to faze him, but this conversation appeared to be bringing out the very first signs that Lucas may have been holding a secret close to his heart. 

**

Amy woke early the next morning and rolled over to see that it was quarter to five. She had only gotten a couple of hours sleep, sporadic through the night. Her mind was ablaze with all the details of her new life she was about to live. 

Amanda Reynolds. Thirty one years of age. Born in Manchester. Older brother named Thomas. Fiancee of Ben Waverley. A gorgeous man like him wouldn’t ever be interested in someone like me….

The thoughts had trailed off many times, departing from the facts she had to memorise. All she could think about was how appearing engaged to Lucas would seem so far-fetched. She had even looked upon the engagement ring many times, wishing that it was all for real. What an absolutely stupid dream. This woman that she was pretending to be, Amanda Reynolds, had a better life than she had ever had. 

**

At around half seven, after showering, pacing her flat with podcasts playing in her ears, Amy heard her front door buzzer sound. It couldn’t have been the postman, as he normally left all mail in the boxes in the lobby. Deliveries weren’t usually this early. 

Amy clicked the intercom. “Hello?” 

“It’s Lucas.” 

Just his voice was like a wave of pleasurable electricity. It ran down her spine and made her smile. “I’ll let you in.” 

As Amy opened her door, she saw Lucas walking up the hallway. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black shirt, with the top two buttons opened. He held something in his hands. 

“I hope you haven’t had breakfast yet, Aim,” he said softly. 

“I thought we were meeting at nine, at the flat,” Amy said stupidly. 

“I just thought you might like to have a bit of food first and relax a bit.” 

Amy let Lucas into her flat, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves begin to descend. 

“Malcolm has organised the moving van this morning, so a lot of the stuff should be there when we arrive later,” Amy told Lucas, stepping into the kitchen, with him just behind. 

“Come and sit down for a bit and don’t think about the op. Relax and take your mind off it.”

Amy looked down at the brown paper bag on the counter and then back up at Lucas, feeling something in her chest, an ache that she had never quite felt before. Not only was he gorgeous, but kind. He actually saw her, and made her feel like she mattered. Or was this purely to try and help her feel more confident to better the outcome of the op? A method of getting the best out of her. 

“Did you manage to get that sketch completed?” Lucas asked, taking a large bite out of a croissant. 

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d remember that,” Amy said. Only a few days earlier and Amy had been sketching a photo of her nephew at her desk in work. It was a gift that she wanted to give to her sister for her birthday. 

**

By the time that Amy and Lucas had made it to the flat where they would be spending at least the next couple of weeks, Amy felt a little more at ease. The two of them greeted the moving men. 

Every now and again, Amy would catch a glimpse of a shimmer of rainbow colours from the corner of her eye, as the sun caught the diamond on her left hand. 

It all felt natural as Amy and Lucas began putting items away after unpacking boxes. However, it all changed, when a tall red-headed woman came to their open door. She tapped on it and stepped over the threshold and into the living room. “Hello?” 

“It’s okay,” Lucas whispered to Amy as they remained together in the bedroom, still opening boxes. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Then he winked at her, watching as her startled face disappeared out of view. 

“Morning,” Amy said, her face beaming at the sight of the redhead. “I’m guessing you’re a neighbour?” 

“I am. I’m Pamela from next door, at number five. I heard we were getting new neighbours. It’s been so long since anyone has lived here, and I was starting to wonder if they’d ever find tenants.” 

Amy chuckled nervously. “I’m Amanda. My fiancée Ben is still in the bedroom trying to put the bed back together, so he should be out in a bit.”

On cue, just as Amy spoke those last words, Lucas appeared and approached. He curled his arm around Amy’s waist and drew her in against him. “Hi, I’m Ben. I hate moving. It makes me do some DIY which is one of my pet hates.” 

As Lucas spoke, Amy was sure that she could feel Lucas’ fingers moving in an almost circular motion against her waist. She could feel heat rising up her body at the sensation of being in such close proximity of him. 

“Is that a diamond I see?” Pamela asked, her dark eyes growing bright. 

Amy raised her hand to show her new neighbour. “We’ve been engaged about two months now.” 

Lucas pulled Amy that tad closer as she spoke, feeling a deep warmth rise upward and fill him. Without even thinking, he placed a kiss on her temple. Her skin was so soft under his lips and he could smell strawberries, no doubt from her shampoo. 

“You’ll have to come over for dinner tomorrow,” Pamela offered. “We always enjoy hosting dinners for our neighbours. Ted is ever the showman.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Amy said, her voice ever so slightly teetering on the edge of nervousness. She could feel the change in her voice now that Lucas was touching her. 

“I’ll let you both get back to it. I’ll see you around no doubt.” 

As Pamela disappeared into her front door, Amy immediately pulled from Lucas. She turned away from him and dashed away into the kitchen, where she flicked on the kettle for a drink. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel her legs shaking. For a few seconds, she watched out of the window, focusing on the clouds and took a deep breath. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas asked. “You did well, Aim.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little flustered, that’s all.” 

**

The rest of the day was fairly lowkey, with Amy and Lucas putting the belongings away, which hopefully wouldn’t be needed for too long. At the briefing, Harry and Lucas had explained that they hoped that the undercover part of the op wouldn’t be any more than two or three weeks. Most of it hinged on Lucas being able to wind his way into Ted Delaney’s trust and gain any hints as to his reasoning and motives for working alongside terrorists. 

At around six there was a sharp knock at the door. 

Lucas opened the door, only to see Ted Delaney in front of him. Positive ID made from all the documentation that had been gathered prior to the undercover portion of the op going live. 

“I’m Ted from next door. Pam told me you’d moved in and that she’d invited you to dinner tomorrow. Thought I’d come over and extend my welcomes to you both.” 

Ted Delany was a man who was easily in his mid-fifties. His greying hair was swept back and oiled, and his grey eyes were piercing. His clothing showed that he had money and position: a well-tailored navy suit and shined shoes. 

“Would you like a drink with us?” Lucas asked. 

“Sure,” Ted said, flashing a broad smile. 

Lucas immediately approached the whiskey and vodka bottles that were neatly placed out on a small table next to a large bookcase. 

Amy could hear faint chatter as she remained in the bedroom. For a second, she stood with her back to the wall, took a deep breath and then exited. 

“Hey, babe,” Lucas said, seeing Amy. ‘Babe’ somehow felt wrong in his mouth, and he hoped that to Delaney the word didn’t come across too alien. “This is Ted from next door.” 

“Ted, this is Amanda. The love of my life and wife-to-be.” 

I think that may be a bit too much, Lucas. Amy mused. 

Amy sat down on the black leather sofa which was opposite a matching armchair, where Ted had perched himself. 

Lucas handed the glass of whiskey to Ted and then placed himself down next to Amy. His hand rested on her thigh, again doing that circular motion with his fingers. He looked at Amy, passing her a glance. “Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?” 

“You’re missing out on the good stuff, love,” Ted said with a hearty chuckle and raised his glass in the air. 

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Amy replied. “I’ve never been able to hand alcohol particularly well. It just doesn’t sit well with me.” 

“I remember when we first met, and she tried to impress me by drinking a couple of pints,” Lucas said. “She’s always tried to impress me when there’s no need to. She’s perfect the way she is.” Lucas, on instinct, squeezed her leg. 

Amy felt a rod of red hot head swarm in her head, as if angry wasps were buzzing there. “I always felt I was out of your league, Ben, you know that.” 

“Pam was always like that with me, too. Some women might seem like they have confidence, but deep down they don’t, and feel they need to be something they’re not. In fact, they’ve always been the apple of your eye from the very beginning.” 

Lucas chuckled. “That’s definitely always been the way with her. She doesn’t see how amazing she is.” 

**

Ted only stayed for approximately twenty minutes, before leaving Amy and Lucas for the night. There was a silence that had grown between them both now, and as Lucas remained in the living room, Amy sat in the kitchen with a mug of tea between her arms, which were resting on the table. 

“Aim, what’s wrong?” Lucas asked, finally following her into the kitchen. “You’ve been quiet since Delaney left. Is it making you uncomfortable?” 

Lucas looked down at the table to see the engagement ring. It was in the centre of the table, not on Amy’s hand where it should have been for the op. 

“I can’t wear it, Lucas,” Amy said softly. “Not when it’s not real. I can’t close the door and still have it on my hand. It’s bad enough having to have you touch me.” 

“Amy…” 

“It doesn’t matter what I think. We see this op through and then go back to the grid and get on with things.” 

**

Lucas lay on the sofa, while Amy had the bed, and thought on her words. It’s bad enough having you touch me. Was she disgusted by him? That very thought made his jaw clench and an ache rise in his chest. That was why she had dashed from him when Pamela had been at their door; Amy found him disgusting and couldn’t stand him touching her. And that touch had been real, so real in Lucas’ mind. To hold Amy next to him had felt like everything was perfect, and nothing was an act. The kiss on her temple...that was all from Lucas’ heart. 

Amy tossed in bed, replaying the events. The way Lucas had touched her, and those words. They seemed to be somehow as though he was telling her, behind a mask of someone else, that…. Of course he wasn’t! 

Lucas is good at his job. He’s done this so many times before and played the part well to get what’s needed for the case and then move on. Nothing is different about this operation whatsoever. It’s just my imagination. 

Being in a different bed meant that Amy couldn’t quite get comfortable in the bed, and would keep peering out of one eye at the clock on the bedside table. The bed was big, enough space for her to roll around, but it reminded her of how isolated she felt. Cut off. Unwanted. 

It was just after four ‘o’ clock and Amy knew she wouldn’t sleep any more that night. It was like the night before, just a couple of hours made up of half hour dozing phases. A dull thump was already starting up behind her eyes. As Amy pulled herself out of bed, she heard the whishing of blood in her ears. 

She staggered out of the room and across the living room, heading for the kitchen. There, on the sofa, sprawled out was Lucas. He was on his back, mouth wide open. The patchwork quilt had fallen off him, so Amy tottered over to him, and placed the quilt back over his sleeping form. He twitched as the quilt touched him, let out a loud snore, and then rolled over. 

Amy made a cup of herbal tea and sat in the kitchen, her eyes stinging and head thumping. It seemed as if Lucas slept easily, not worrying about the operation and certainly not about the tension that had risen between them. Was it only Amy that sensed any kind of tension? She was starting to assume it was. 

By the time it had turned half six, Amy got dressed into a fresh strip of clothing, choosing jeans and a frilled white blouse: the attire of Amanda Reynolds. Amy Holland, MI5 analyst, would have opted for jeans and a rock band T-shirt with a waistcoat, or a bright coloured hoodie. Sophistication wasn’t something that Amy felt she had. 

The streets were fairly quiet and Amy slipped into a café, ordering two bagels and two Americano coffees. Then she walked back to the flat, feeling that she could finally find a sense of peace out in the chilled mid-March air. 

By the time Amy got back to the flat, she walked in to find that Lucas had vacated the sofa. She could hear the splashing of bathwater and an offkey singing voice coming from the bathroom. 

Amy giggled and placed the breakfasts down on the coffee table in the living room, waiting for Lucas to re-appear. 

When he finally made an appearance, Lucas sauntered over to the sofa and sat down, leaving a gap between Amy and himself. 

“I hope you like bagels,” Amy said, giving a smile. “You brought breakfast yesterday so it’s only fair I do so today.” 

***

Amy ventured out the flat after breakfast, deciding to get out of Lucas’ way for a few hours. The cover story was that Amanda and Ben were on annual leave for a week while they moved into their new property. Ben, being the owner of his own accountancy firm, had left the company in the capable hands of his best friend, and co-director, Patrick Lange. If any kind of phone call was needed to or from Patrick, Tariq had been asked to step in and lend his vocal skills. 

First off, Amy sat down in a coffee shop and watched people wander past the window; tourists, residents. Some of them she could tell immediately as residents of London, carrying briefcases or dressed sharp for an upcoming meetings. Tourists tended to walk slower, some with cameras around their necks, and gazed around in excitement and wonder. 

Her phone chimed. Well, Amanda’s phone. It was one of the many iPhones that were kept on the Grid specifically for operations, with disposable SIM cards. 

Ben: Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t seem yourself this morning. Love you. Xxx

Of course all text messages had be sent in character, in case the devices were ever compromised. No personal devices were allowed. One very basic Nokia 3310 model was kept in order to report back to Harry in case any challenges occurred, and that was in Lucas’ possession. 

Amanda: Yes, I’m fine, sweetie. I’ll be back later.  xx

Sweetie. Acting out this whole made-up scenario was angering Amy. 

Amy continued on walking, disappearing in and out of shops. All of the money she had was in physical cash. No personal credit and debit cards were to be used while on operation. Every aspect of who she really was had been erased. For the next two or three weeks, Amy Holland didn’t exist. When she looked into a mirror, Amanda Reynolds looked back. Amy could imagine the reflection smirking at her, the diamond sparkling so brightly on her left hand, with Ben’s arm wrapped around her. Ben’s steel blue eyes looking back, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the mere sight of Amy. 

Like I’d ever look at you twice.

Back at the flat, Lucas put more items away, concentrating on the kitchenware. However, his mind couldn’t stop spiralling into thoughts of Amy. She was confusing him and it was twisting his gut so tight. Suddenly he got up from the tiled floor, where he had been putting pots and pans into the cupboards, and called her. 

“Amanda?” he asked. 

“Ben,” she replied matter-of-factly. 

“Are you alone?” he asked. 

“No one is directly around me.”

“We need to talk on neutral ground.” 

“Please, no. We can talk when I get back.”

“We have to be careful as we can be compromised, you know that.” 

“I’m on my way back now. We’ll talk more after the dinner. I’ll be back in about half hour.” 

The line then went quiet as Amy terminated the call. 

Lucas sighed in frustration. In all the months that he had known Amy, which was almost a year, he had never known her be so aloof. She was naturally a shier person, but he had never known her react like this. 

Amy got back to the flat within the half hour that she had promised. She stepped into the living room to see Lucas sat on the sofa. The gorgeous bastard looked up at her and smiled sadly. 

“After the dinner, we’ll go for a walk,” she proposed. 

***

Amy and Lucas prepared themselves for the dinner with their new neighbours at around six. 

Lucas was dressed in a black suit jacket and white shirt, with the top two buttons popped open. It was complimented nicely with a pair of dark jeans, giving a casual edge. 

Amy stepped out of the bedroom, her short pixie cut freshly washed and neatly brushed. She wore a black dress with frills on the wrist, and paired with black dolly shoes. Her whole look was sophistication mixed with a sense of comfort. 

As Lucas looked at her, he swallowed hard. She was wearing a dark eyeshadow and mascara which accented her deep green eyes perfectly. He could sense her discomfort at the get-up, knowing that this wasn’t her usual style, but he couldn’t help feel it suited her so well. 

Amy tried to avoid eye contact and made her way to the door in silence. 

Lucas followed on behind, feeling his stomach twist yet again at her distance from him. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the table by the door, and then closed it behind them. 

Pam was the one to answer the door. She grinned at her new neighbours and let them in. “Take a seat. Dinner won’t be too long now. I’m preparing smoked salmon, topped in my special sauce. Chef’s secret as to the recipe. Everyone who has ever tried it has raved over it.” 

“Good man!” Ted exclaimed, taking the bottle of red wine from Lucas. “Priorities.” 

Amy glanced around the living room, noticing that there was far less in it than hers and Lucas’ temporary abode. The flooring was wooden, and the lights bright. Everything felt too clean and sterile for Amy’s liking. She sat down on a black leather sofa, and then tensed as Lucas perched beside her. He took her hand and rested it on his knee, then caught her gaze and smiled, giving her a very slight nod. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Pam asked, preparing glasses as Ted popped open the wine bottle. 

“Do you want a coffee? You said last night you don’t drink,” Ted asked Amy, interjecting himself into the conversation before anyone else could speak. 

“Oh, yes, please. That would be perfect,” she replied with a grateful smile. 

Lucas began to talk, still holding Amy’s hand. He rolled out the spiel that he and Amy had been given as part of their briefing pack. Amanda and Ben had met through mutual friends at a Christmas party. 

The words rolled effortlessly off Lucas’ tongue, Amy mused. And how she wished all of it was true. To be loved, wanted, proposed to, lived with. She desperately wanted it all. Life was cruel. Rather than be dealt such a lucky hand, she instead had to act it all out, pretend, and live behind a happy mask, where her heart beneath was breaking. 

“You definitely struck lucky, love,” Pam told Amy with a wink. 

The conversation between Lucas and Ted seemed to flow without much thought. However, Lucas’ hand moving up Amy’s thigh, curling further into the inside of her leg. 

Shivers began to race up Amy’s spine as she felt his fingers caress her skin through her thin tights. 

Most of the conversation seemed to merge into a mindless chatter as Amy concentrated on Lucas’ hand on her leg. She studied the veins in the back of his hand, which then caused images of him touching her in more intimate places to flicker through her mind. 

By the time that dinner was ready and the group had moved into the dining room, which again was a sterile looking room, Lucas had finally got onto the topic of conversation that he needed: Ted’s work. 

The table was only small, considering that the flat was large. It gave way for more kitchen space and cabinets. This meant that Amy was sat directly next to Lucas again, with Pam and Ted opposite them. 

“How long have you owned the charity, Ted?” Lucas asked, slipping into his seat. 

Ted began to answer while Pam laid out all the dishes in the centre of the table, her hands covered in oven gloves. “The charity was actually started by my father, who died five years ago, so it was handed down to me. He always spent his life helping disadvantaged children; it was all he cared about.” Something flickered across Ted’s face. Resentment, anger? Lucas couldn’t quite tell. But maybe that was where he could probe further. 

“Are you alright, love?” Pam asked, sitting down directly opposite Amy. “You look a bit pale.” 

“It’s probably the new foundation I’m using. I decided to try a lighter colour as the one before, by Clinique was too dark.” Where had that response come from? Maybe Amy wasn’t quite as bad at this acting while undercover thing as she had originally thought. Suddenly she felt something on her leg and jumped. Thankfully, Pam had started talking to Lucas and Ted again, so none of them noticed her jump. Why was Lucas touching her leg? Their lower halves were concealed beneath the table, which meant he didn’t have to touch her in order for anyone to believe they were lovers. 

While Amy eat her meal, she couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas’ hand coming back to her leg. 

“So, how did you choose to propose?” Pam asked, grinning. “I always adore love stories.”

Lucas blushed and then looked at Amy, catching her gaze. Then, he touched her leg again. Only this time, Amy didn’t flinch. In fact, upon instinct, she leaned her leg into his touch. “I just knew that I couldn’t live without her in my life. I wanted to wake up next to her, have kids with her. Cliché, I know. So I took her away for Christmas, to New York where she’d always wanted to go, and proposed in front of the Statue of Liberty.” His eyes were still locked on hers as he spoke. 

A sudden wave of nausea hit Amy and she leaned to the side, away from Lucas. 

“Are you okay, babe?” Lucas asked. “She’s been like this on and off the last couple of days.” 

Pam’s bright blue eyes lit up in excitement. “Maybe it’s the pitter patter of tiny feet.” 

“I’m going to have to head back to the flat. I’m so sorry to both of you,” Amy said, bolting up from her seat. 

Lucas got up beside her and wound his arm around her waist. “Sorry to leave so abruptly, but she comes first.” 

“Of course,” Ted chuckled. “We’ll have to re-schedule for a better time.” 

Amy and Lucas bid their farewells to their guests and head back to the flat. Amy dashed inside and raced to the bathroom, slamming the door. Rather than vomiting, she got to her knees on the floor and felt the tears of sadness roll down her cheeks. 

The door opened and Lucas stepped inside. He looked down as she sobbed and fell to his knees beside her. “Aim, what’s wrong?” he whispered. “You’re scaring me.” 

“You don’t have to keep the act going, Lucas,” she snapped, glaring at him. “Pam and Ted aren’t here.” 

“Get dressed into something more comfortable and warmer. We’ll go for a walk,” Lucas said, his voice becoming authoritative. 

“I don’t want…”

“While we’re on this operation, I’m the senior officer. Please get changed and we’ll go for a walk.” Lucas felt a stab of shame as he spoke those words, knowing he was using his own position for gain, but he needed to know what was happening. Her behaviour was becoming more erratic. Not only was she worrying him for her wellbeing, but if she continued to act like this then the op would be compromised. 

Fuck the operation! I care more about her. 

Fifteen minutes later and Amy walked beside Lucas, the darkness and cold evening air wrapping tight around them. Once they were a few streets away from the flat, Amy and Lucas sat down on a bench in a small park. 

“You really are scaring me, Amy. What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. “This is me asking because I care for your wellbeing. It’s not an act.” The word ‘act’ dripped with anger. He noticed that, yet again, she’d taken the engagement ring off. 

Amy noticed him look at her hand. “I can’t wear that ring, Lucas. Please don’t make me wear it when I don’t have to.” 

“We’re on surveillance and undercover twenty-four seven with this operation. You shouldn’t take it on and off when you please like this. This goes deeper than that, Aim. I know you hate me touching you, and I’m sorry I have to do it.” 

“I know it’s all an act for the op, Lucas. Don’t apologise.” 

“Is it all an act?” he asked. His gaze locked on Amy’s. “I know I shouldn’t have touched you under the table. There was no need for that. The truth is, none of this has been an act for me.” 

Amy’s eyes were wide in shock and sadness as she stared at him. “It’s not just my imagination?” she whispered. 

“No,” Lucas replied with a smile. “And when you said about not wanting me to touch you…”

“I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you to touch me. It’s I…I’ve liked you for a while Lucas, and it was getting too much. Playing it all like a game when deep down it’s something I want. I’m living another woman’s life that I want.” 

Lucas slipped closer to Amy and cupped her cheek with his hand. “Is it me or Ben Waverley that you want?” 

“Of course it’s you I want.” Amy replied, her face broad with a huge smile. 

Lucas moved even closer to her still, until their lips touched. The kiss started as a simple peck, a moment of uncertainty, but Amy’s hand tugging Lucas’ jacket spurred him on. The kiss grew deeper, their tongues meeting and warmth rising. 

As they both parted, Lucas smiled upon the slight of Amy’s beautiful flushed cheeks. She looked so innocent and angelic in those moments; her eyes sparkling in happiness, her cheeks flushed and her lips plump. 

“Does this mean that if you want Amanda’s life that you’re planning on leaving MI5?” Lucas chuckled. “Pack up and go work as a solicitor’s secretary. We’d miss you.” 

“Maybe I don’t want that part of her life.”  

“If we do this, Aim, and have a relationship, we won’t be put together undercover again, you know that, don’t you?” Lucas asked. “Harry can’t risk any compromise. We’d be a weakness to each other.” 

“Maybe on this op we can draw strength from each other. It’ll definitely make the act easier to keep up.” 

Lucas and Amy walked back to the flat hand in hand. The whole time and Amy was beaming, unable to hide the happiness she was feeling in those moments. Her gaze would drift down to their joined hands every few minutes. 

Back at the flat, Lucas let Amy in ahead of himself, his hand brushing against her lower back. He followed on behind her and closed the door. The way she turned to face him and looked up smiling, her cheeks still flushed, made his heart skip and his stomach flutter. She was so beautiful, with innocence shining brightly in her eyes and love curling her lips upwards. 

Lucas stepped forward and wound his arm around her waist, drawing her in and then leaned down to kiss her again. 

Their kiss grew hot very quickly, with their bodies entwining. 

Amy opened her eyes slowly, looking up into the silver blue depths of Lucas’ gaze. That all too familiar smirk began to form in the corner of his mouth. 

Amy slipped out of his hold and walked slowly into the kitchen, looking down at the table. The engagement ring was still in the centre where she had left it. 

Lucas moved around her and picked up the ring. Then he gently lifted her left hand. “I know you don’t want to wear it, Aim, but please do this for me.” 

With a sigh, Amy watched as Lucas slid the diamond solitaire ring onto her hand. It felt as though the ring had been sized perfectly and belonged there. “Maybe one day I’ll have someone doing it for real.” 

Lucas smiled sadly, feeling a lump form in his throat. Words swarmed in Lucas’ mind. Just one sentence to respond to Amy’s sad comment. But the right one would not come. Instead, he remained quiet. Perhaps one day it might have been him putting a ring on her hand, and meaning it. However, for now, he would have to wait and see, and hope for that future to come. 

***

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[specialagentlokitty]

Rossi x Male!reader - don’t want to loose you

Hi, it was originally the Gibbs x trans male!reader one where the reader gets kidnapped but then I realised you write for Rossi and I changed it to the BAU team, it would probably be in two separate asks ☺️ - @the-imitation-blog 💜

Rossi was lost, angry and scared without you by his side.

They could only imagine what was happening to you to you while you were being held away from them, as a token to force the BAU to stand down and give the unsub what she wants.

“We can’t give her all this.” Hotch snapped.

“We don’t have a choice, she has (Y/N) Hotch! She has him and we know it’s only a matter of time until she hurts him or worse!” Rossi snapped back.

He didn’t like arguing with his best friend, but he would stand there and argue all day if that’s what it took.

“I’m not asking you to give her these things, just make her think she has them until we have (Y/N) back.”

“Dave you know it’s not that simple, stuff like this takes time to arrange, and money.”

“Then do it! I don’t care Aaron I’ll pay for it, just do it!”

Hotch looked at his friend and nodded his head, agreeing to get the whole thing underway because he hated seeing that look of pain on his friend.

Rossi couldn’t sleep, he spent every money he could trying to encourage the woman to give you back, to let you go, let him talk to you but nothing worked.

All he could do was pave around, holding your sweater in his hands as he anxiously waited for that phone to ring.

Your body ached, but not from being hurt, Mary had yet to do anything to harm you in anyway, it was from tightly tied to a chair and having to sit stiffly for so long.

Mary was manic, scared and worried she didn’t know what to do.

She looked at you and frowned, walking over as she looked at the chains.

“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry…”

“Mary it’s okay, we can still fix this, okay?”

“No.. no! We can’t fix it! I need to go, I have to go. They’ll find me!”

“Mary they won’t! They won’t! They would’ve found you already!”

You tried to reason with her but you couldn’t, she kept saying that she had to go, she had to leave while stuffing everything into the bag.

She looked at the phone and tossed it across the room, shattering it and turned around to you.

“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry.. I have to destroy this place…”

“Mary no! Don’t!”

You tried to frantically pull at the chains, trying anything to break free as she poured a gallon of gasoline around the room.

The smell burned your nose, and you watched Mary stand by the door, tears falling down her face as she lit a match, ignoring you pleads and cries for you to be let go.

Flames erupted around the room and Mary ran off leaving you there fighting for your life, fighting to breathe and break free.

You pulled and pulled at the chains, and with the fire crawling loser it worked in your favour, it weakened the chair, and when you fell backwards the chair broke and you managed to with a great deal of effort to crawl free.

The fire was out of control and you didn’t know what to do, the door was blocked, the floor and roof was burning and crumbling, your only option was the window.

You managed to get to it but you couldn’t pry it open and no matter how much you tried not to, you inhaled too much smoke and passed out.

Hotch had everything ready.

“Are we really going to do this?” Derek asked.

“We don’t have a choice.” Emily said.

They went to authorise it but they were stopped by JJ and Reid running in.

“We have him!” JJ yelled.

“He’s in the hospital, we need to go now!” Reid rushed out.

“Shut it down! Shut it all down! Garcia track Mary down now she’ll be easy to find!”

“You got it!”

Everyone quickly jumped into action, while Emily, Derek, JJ and Reid went after Mary with the help of Garcia, Hotch and Rossi rushed straight to the hospital you had just been admitted to.

At first they wouldn’t let anyone in your room, but after being order too and a quick flash of their badges they were in and Rossi nearly broke.

Seeing you laying there, wires hooked up around you, oxygen mask around your face.

You were covered in ash and dirt, red marks around you wrists and arms.

“How is he?” Hotch asked.

“A few minor burns, he inhaled a lot of smoke so he’ll need to be kept in for a few days but as long as he stay on oxygen he should be fine.” The doctor said.

Hotch nodded and stepped away to let Rossi slowly approached you, setting you sweater on the back of a chair he stood next to you.

He took your hand in his, and ran his thumb along the back of your hand, and you stirred eyes slowly opening.

When you saw Rossi, you smiled softly hand tightening around his.

“You’re going to be okay…” he whispered.

Your breathing was raspy, and almost like you were on the brink of coughing.

You went to pull the mask away but Rossi quickly stopped, his hand over yours as he kept the mask in place.

“Don’t. Keep it on.”

You nodded and motioned for him sit down next to you and he did, letting you rest your head on his shoulder with a small groan.

“It’s okay.” He whispered.

He rested his head on your head, just needing to be with you, to hold you because he was terrified if he stepped away for a second you would be gone again

[jennysparksandtheauthority]

forever might be short (pricefield drabble collection)

Originally posted on AO3 as part of the International Fanworks Day challenge 2024.

Summary: Max saves Chloe and they leave the bay behind, but what happens after ten months? And ten years? And all the in betweens? Ten drabbles about love, loss, healing and learning how to navigate life together, in honor of International Fanworks Day 10th anniversary.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: F/F

Fandom: Life is Strange (Video Game)

Relationship: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price

1. ten months

They haven't lost the ability to smile, but they don't laugh the way they used to.

When it happens, ten months after the storm, it's random, spontaneous.

Max scrolls Netflix, Chloe is looking at her phone. Then, she reads something. Her eyes light up. She grins like an ass. 

"Hey, Max?"

"Yeah?"

"What’s the difference between a casual dinner party and a pirate orgy? The first one you come as you are… The other you ARR as you come!"

When Ryan and Vanessa come home they find them rolling on the couch, kicking each other, eyes watery, breathless with laughter.

2. the fury in your head

Max lets Chloe die, but the storm still comes.

She's in the lighthouse, screaming at it.

"Didn't you get what you wanted?! I did what you asked of me! Why is this happening? What more do you want from me?!"

The hurricane roars and Max wakes up. 

Chloe's arms engulf her in an instant, "It's okay. You're safe. We're in Seattle. I'm here."

Chloe never pushes her to share, she wants to spare her the pain. She imagines Max dreams about the innocent lives lost, the sorrow, the guilt.

But Max's nightmares are about one thing only: not choosing Chloe.

3. (finally see) what it means to be living

It takes them more than a year to find their footing, but it's bliss when it finally comes.

They get an apartment. Max goes back to school, and Chloe enrolls in an Associate in Computer Science program in community college.

They work most weekends, even though Ryan and Vanessa are helping them out. They even get a compensation from the Arcadia Bay Victims Relief Fund. Chloe calls it blood money. But they take it, because they need all the help they can get.

Still, their routine is hard. Seattle is always rainy. They study, they work, they get by. Together.

4. awake, dear heart…

They share a bed, so they technically sleep together, but they're not together. 

There are lingering touches, light kisses and even pecks on the lips, but they haven't done anything else. They haven't talked about it. They're both just so utterly afraid of messing up what they have.

Max finds a note in Chloe's pocket when she's doing laundry. It reads: My offer still stands. Call me? Erika xoxo. There's a phone number. She folds it and then leaves it on Chloe's nightstand.

When Chloe finds it, she doesn't say anything, but Max watches her throw it in the trash.

5. ...awake

"Chloe? You know you don't have to stay with me, right? You don't owe me anything."

It's Christmas Eve. 11 AM. They agreed to sleep in before they drive to Max's parents. 

Chloe immediately sits up on the bed and looks at her with so much concern you'd think Max's nose is bleeding.

"What the fuck? Where did that come from?"

Max grimaces, refrains the urge to cry, "It's just… sometimes… I wonder if—"

Chloe puts a finger over her lips, ever so gently. Then, she kisses her, deeply, intentionally. It's a statement.

When they part, Max wonders no more.

6. worship in the bedroom

They lie naked on a warm June morning, limbs intertwined, bodies sweating, hearts beating loudly.

"Damn, you're hardcore, Max," Chloe grins like an idiot.

"So I’ve been told," Max can't help a little proud smile.

They chuckle together, and enjoy the silence. It's not really silence – a Hozier song is coming from the speakers, and birds sing under their window.

"One of these days, Caulfield…" Chloe whispers absentmindedly.

"What?"

She doesn't answer. She pulls Max closer and replies only in her mind.

One of these days I'm gonna ask you to marry me. Not today, but one of these days.

7. (remember) to let her under your skin

They end up in New York because Max gets a scholarship there, thanks to her impressive portfolio. Her photos and her name are connected to Arcadia Bay and, painful as that is, it opens many doors for her. She wishes it wasn't like that, but… it's the blood money check situation all over again.

HBO did a documentary series, so everybody in class knows everything.

Well, not everything.

But they whisper — she hears words like survivor, so tragic, Jefferson...

It used to bother her. Yet, with each passing day coming home to Chloe, the pain seems to simply drift away.

8. the pleasure, the privilege is mine

It's Chloe's birthday.

Max plans the perfect party with their New York friends. They Skype Max's parents, David and Kate. Chloe drinks, laughs, cries. They eat cake. It's fun, and it ends with their apartment ruined.

Afterwards, they sit together on the couch, spent, heads touching.

"Thank you for today, babe," Chloe says softly as she looks at their intertwined hands. "For a girl that should be dead, turning 25 is kinda wild…"

Max gazes at her with sheer devotion, "I love you so much."

The smile that Chloe gives her might have the power to stop time, "I know."

9. this is now

After the pandemic (they'll always wonder if somewhere, someone was using some cursed, forbidden power), Chloe burns out. She quits her job as IT specialist in some big pharma company, and starts freelancing as a graphic designer. That year, Max hits 200k followers on Instagram. She signs a photobook deal. Chloe designs the cover. It's a wild success.

So Chloe spins Max in her arms one Friday afternoon, and blurts out, "Max, I think we're ready. We've been talking about it, let's just do it!"

Max laughs, nods.

They lock eyes, and yell it in unison, "Let's get a dog!"

10. ten years

Chloe's making spaghetti — her long, honey-blonde hair up in a messy bun, her arm tattoo covered in black ink. Max's watching her work, sitting at the kitchen island, playing with the white gold band in her ring finger. Deckard, their Labrador, sits at her feet.

They're talking about their day, complaining about shit, making plans.

There's three candles by the window: one for Rachel, one for Joyce, one for all the others. Today's the anniversary, but it doesn't get to them anymore.

Life's weird, thrilling, also boring at times. 

It's good too. 

They made it. And they will be okay.

THE END

author's notes:

Title from Emily Dickinson's 434:

To love thee Year by Year— May less appear Than sacrifice, and cease— However, dear, Forever might be short, I thought to show— And so I pieced it, with a flower, now.

Chapter 2 title: Spanish Sahara by Foals

Chapter 3 title: Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

Chapter 4 & 5 reference: “Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.” (Prospero, Act 1, Scene 2) —The Tempest by William Shakespeare

Chapter 6 title: Take Me To Church by Hozier

Chapter 8 title: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

Chapter 9: “Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted." —Sylvia Plath

[tmbswhodunit]

WHO DUNNIT TMBS CHALLENGE: i have spent my life clamoring towards it

“I’ve become aware of a problem,” Number Two states, seeing Mr. Benedict enter the kitchen. He carries a plate that had once contained biscuits. Now there are only crumbs, which he shakes into the trash can before taking the plate to the sink.

“Oh? What is it, dear?” he asks.

“I’m going to die alone.”

Nicholas stops in his movements. He turns to face Number Two. She’s in the middle of chopping onions for her latest dish, something smelling of curry spices and tomato. Nicholas blinks heavily as he watches her slam the knife down in an unusually aggressive chop. The onion splits open; a stinging, pungent scent fills the air. 

He sits down at the table nearby, still looking at Number Two. The sudden sounds and smells swirling around him make him wary of a narcoleptic episode. Better to tackle this situation while seated. “I’m curious about why you say that.”

She takes another chop. The sound of it resounds through the kitchen, and Nicholas hopes she doesn’t damage her knife. Number Two takes pride in her knives, after all.

“Well, Rhonda has that boyfriend now,” she says. 

Ah. Nicholas thinks he might know where this is going. He waits for Number Two to continue.

“And I don’t fall in love, you know. So it’s just a reasonable conclusion. Tragically, you are highly statistically likely to die before me, being decades older. Milligan lives with Kate. Rhonda will live with the boyfriend. If not this one, then another one. And I’ll die alone.”

Nicholas nods. He does know. Number Two has confided in him before about her lack of romantic and sexual feelings. The issue had surfaced not long after Nicholas had originally adopted her— other teenagers talked about crushes, dates, going out, and getting married, and Number Two just…never got it. She had felt like something was wrong with her. Something even more wrong than all the other things that were already wrong, of course, because this lack of love in her heart was only one item on the list. But Nicholas had explained that he was much the same. He had romantic feelings sometimes, for very few people, and only in situations where he had already gotten to know them deeply. He’d never gotten married. Number Two might be much the same.

And that was all fine and well, because for the most part, Number Two never wanted to be in love. Nicholas hoped that their non-traditional family would help her feel secure in who she is, and to know that she can live a fulfilling life without romance. 

But sometimes the horrors just get to you anyway, it seems.

“Ah, yes,” Nicholas mused.

“So you agree? I’m going to die alone?”

“No, no,” he corrects her. “I’m merely expressing understanding of your thought process and the social systems that have brought it into being.”

Number Two has obliterated the onion. She scrapes the small, diced pieces into a pan, then carves a glob of butter out of a stick and plops that down, too. It won’t be long until the onion’s intense smell has been melded with those of the spices, the tomatoes, and whatever else she’ll add to the mix, bringing the atmosphere from eye-watering to mouth-watering. 

“I understand why you think this, my dear. We live in a world where we are not often shown examples of adults without partners who live happy, fulfilling, connected lives; who have love for the people around them in other ways, and who don’t suffer for it. It can feel as if we don’t have a romantic partner, we won’t have anybody in our life to spend our days with, share our thoughts with, and, well, to not be alone with.”

The onions sizzle loudly.

“So you do agree?” Number Two narrows her eyes. She holds a wooden spoon accusatorily. 

“I was going to bring in a second point,” he explains. “I’d like to ask you to consider this issue from a different perspective.”

“What’s the other perspective?”

“To imagine what you most want out of your life.”

Number Two stands for a few seconds, avoiding eye contact. She stirs the onion mixture even though it doesn’t really need to be stirred. Number Two is a logical person. She doesn’t take much to imagination. Thinking of creative dreams is closer to something Rhonda would do, coming up with all her disguises, or even Milligan and his way of crafting ways out of sticky situations. Number Two, though— she isn’t much of a dreamer.

“Imagine?”

Mr. Benedict nods. “Pretend like society’s rules don’t exist. If you could have anything you want in life, make any situation a reality, have any kind of relationship— what would it be?”

“Well, to not die alone,” she mutters. “And cook things. And sew. And do woodworking.”

Something twinkles in Mr. Benedict’s eyes, and Number Two gets the feeling he can guess her thoughts. “When you carve things out of pieces of wood, you see things in them,” he says. 

“Is this one of your metaphors?”

The twinkling intensifies. “You can see, in your brain, what you want the finished product to look like. And you take your tools and shave away the negative space. Then you’re presented with the shape you’ve been holding in your mind's eye.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So,” he finishes. “You know how to envision. And, perish the thought, when I’m rotting in a grave somewhere, I have full confidence in your ability to carve whatever you want out of the rest of your life. Romance or no romance. Marriage or no marriage.”

The onions are done toasting. They’ve gone golden in color, the spices and the scents now nothing short of delicious. Number Two pours in a tomato mixture. Then a can of chickpeas. Then a swirl of cream, decorating the pan with its milky, contrasting hue. 

“Always think about the possibilities that excite you, my dear. No need to worry about the ones that you’re not interested in. People like you and me— we’re pretty good at writing our own narratives.”

Number Two nods, stirring listlessly. Mr. Benedict stays seated for a few minutes longer. They’re not in a hurry. After a bit of simmering, Number Two pulls two bowls from the cabinet. She fills them both with white rice.

“Curry?” she asks.

“Curry sounds lovely,” Mr. Benedict responds.

She pours a generous serving atop the bed of rice. It steams, the bowl warming, as she brings it to him. It tastes only barely of onion.

[vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds]

What Goes On In Your Heart? (MedStudent!reader x Paul)

(Photo by Linda McCartney <3 also to note, I personally imagined 1964ish Paul in this but you can imagine whatever you like since it really has no impact on the story lol anyway, I chose this photo for *ahem* reasons)

This wasn't my original post plan (especially given I was due to post yesterday, oops) but I remembered I wrote this a couple weeks ago and thought I'd post it instead! It's heavily inspired by this post by @mysweetgeo (not connected but you should read theirs first because I said so /hj) and my stupid amount of knowledge on the cardiac system (thanks, autism!). That said, that hyperfixation was awhile ago, though I did research while writing it, but if anything is inaccurate, let me know and I'll make changes! Originally written with a specific character in mind, but changed to be a fem!reader, so if there are any remnants of her written Scouse accent, please ignore lol. Proofed in UK English, like all of my Beatles fics. Anyway, enjoy c:

CW: light nudity, brief sex joke (can tag if needed)

I walk into the bedroom I share with Paul. “Paul?” He hums a response as he continues flipping through the book he’s reading. “I have an exam coming up tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could help me study.”

He sets his book down. “’course I can. Not sure how much help I’ll be in your field, though.”

I giggle. “That’s alright. I mainly just need you as a dummy.” I stop before saying, “Not a dummy, like a mannequin!”

Paul chuckles. “I dunno. I fit the dummy quite well.”

I slap him playfully. “You do not! Er, could you strip to your pants for me? Professional reasons only!”

He smirks as he does as told. “What exam could you possibly have that needs me like this?”

“Exam on the cardiovascular system. Well, it’s less of an exam and more of a project. I’m supposed to give a cardio exam to someone I know and report the results,” I answer. “I’m gonna be using my stethoscope, alright?”

“Whatever you need, love.”

I straddle him—only because it’s the easiest position for what I’m doing—before beginning my run-through. “Right, so first I’m supposed to check a bunch of things; make sure you don’t have cyanosis or oedema or things like that.”

He chuckles. “I dunno what any of that means but I put my trust in you.”

I laugh slightly. “Well, you’re not blue, pale, or swollen and you’re breathing fine so that part’s finished.”

I run through the rest of the visual things very quickly. “Alright, now, give me your wrist, please.” He follows my directions. “Ninety. Interesting.”

As I write the number down, he asks, “Is there somethin’ I should know about that number?”

“’s normal, if that’s what you’re asking,” I reply. “Well, a bit high but still in normal range. Something on your mind?”

“Oh, no,” he answers sarcastically. “Just watchin’ my bird straddle me, stethoscope round her neck, lookin’ like the sexiest doctor I’ve ever seen.

I blush slightly. “Shut up! Can I have your other wrist, please?” I feel for a moment before saying, “Okay, good, that’s in sync. Right arm, please.”

“Aren’t you gonna explain any of what you’re doin’?” he asks, giving me his arm. “Most patients, includin’ me, don’t have a clue what you’re up to.”

I blush. “Right, I forgot that part. Alright, what I just did was check your pulse and made sure it was synced in both arms. Now, I’m checking your pulse in a different spot.”

He chuckles as he watches me. “How many times are you gonna check it?”

I stick my tongue out. “Well, I only had two more, but now you’ve earned a third, since you wanna ask stupid questions.”

He pouts. “That’s no fair.”

I roll my eyes with a smirk. “Bollocks, where have I left my— oh, it’s right here.” Paul chuckles at me as I continue, “Blood pressure. Checking it in both arms. Professor said lying and standing aren’t both required so we’ll just do lying.”

“I don’t like that thing,” he whines as I strap on my blood pressure cuff.

“You’ll be alright,” I reply. “’sides, you agreed to this, didn’t ye?”

He pouts again. “That was before I knew it entailed all this.”

“Keep quiet, I can’t hear!”

A look of pure sarcasm covers his face.

“126/80.” I write the number down as I continue, “A bit high but normal, to match that ‘a bit high but normal’ pulse you’ve got. Gonna check the other arm now.”

“How do you even know what you’re listenin’ for?” he asks when I finish the other arm.

“Identical,” I murmur to myself before saying, “Come here.” I strap the cuff around my own arm and situate my stethoscope. “I’m gonna squeeze the cuff. You’re gonna hear a thump, alright? That’s what you’re listening for.”

He nods—though I’m not sure he completely understands—before closing his eyes to dedicate his attention to his hearing. “Oi, I hear it!” he says after a second.

“What’s the number?”

He squints to read the tiny numbers on the metre. “110.”

“Alright, tell me when the sound is gone.”

A silent moment passes before he speaks, “There. 70.”

I give him a sly smile. “Congratulations, Macca. You’ve just done your first blood pressure reading.”

He gives a proud smile. “Alright, what’s next?”

“Take a wild guess,” I answer sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes. “Where this time?”

“Neck, but I’m gonna listen first. Chin up.” I place the diaphragm of my stethoscope against his neck. “Breathe in and hold, please.”

I can tell he’s getting a bit put out with the number of things I have to do in an exam.

“Right, nothing wrong there.”

“Pardon me for askin’,” he interrupts, voice dripping with sarcasm, “but what was that for?”

Ignoring the tone in his voice, I answer, “Just checking for murmurs and bruits so I don’t give ye a stroke.”

He quirks an eyebrow but chooses not to pursue the question. I place two fingers on his carotid pulse.

“Everythin’ good?” he asks, his voice vibrating my fingers.

“Yep, still ninety,” I reply. “Right, time for your punishment pulse check. Spread your legs for me.”

He blushes and asks, “Why?” as he follows my directions.

“Gonna check the pulse in your femoral artery,” I answer. I place my hand where his leg meets his groin, putting my other hand on top. “Interesting how the pulse here is 115.”

He blushes deep red. “I dunno why I agreed to this.”

“Because you love me, yeah, yeah, yeah,” I sing. “’sides, my professor didn’t ask for that pulse so I’m not writing that down. Right, here comes the fun part. Well, fun for me. Checking your pulse again but on your chest this time. Hands to your sides.”

He does as I ask before I place my hand on his chest. I check in a few different spots before he says, “I’ll bite. What you doin’ now?”

“Making sure I can’t feel any murmurs. You can feel some of ‘em, ye know.”

He makes a surprised face. “I actually didn’t know that.”

“Now this is my favourite part,” I say emphatically, donning my stethoscope. “Mainly because it’s the easiest since I’ve never actually seen a patient with a murmur.”

He chuckles a bit and asks, “Well, what do I need to do?”

“Be very quiet.”

He lets out a little chuckle before going silent as I begin auscultating every area of his heart with both the diaphragm and bell.

“How’s it soundin’ in there?” he asks, startling me slightly.

“Still ninety, if that’s what you’re asking,” I reply after gaining my composure. “Or are you asking for a listen?”

“Askin’ for a listen on you,” he teases.

I roll my eyes with a grin. I know he’s not serious, but I humour him anyway. “Mitral. Tricuspid. Pulmonary. Aortic.” I move the diaphragm around with each word. “And just for you, Erb’s point. Not a valve but we listen there anyway. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know.”

“Mitral’s my favourite,” he blurts.

“Don’t go all ‘cardiologist’ on me, Macca,” I laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s mine too. And with that, I can safely say you, Mr. McCartney, are healthy as a horse, as far as your heart’s concerned.”

He smirks. “So, what do I get for participatin’ in this?”

“I’ll give you a stress test later.” I give him a quick kiss before climbing off him and reporting the rest of my findings.