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s-brant · 1 year

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Judas

Upon returning to King’s Landing, an unexpected betrothal is arranged to make peace between Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent’s children.

13k (18+)

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, arranged marriage, and violence. (smut in part two, stay tuned).

The last time she saw Aemond, they were mere children.

It was the morning after Leanor Velaryon’s funeral at Driftmark, not even a full week following the passing of his dear sister, Laena, and she was watching from the saddle strapped across the back of her dragon as he and his mother strolled along the beach side by side. She made a point of doting on her young son more than she had in the past due to the loss of his eye. Her arm was draped over his shoulder, her hand rubbing up and down his arm, and, yet, he didn’t seem consoled by her sweet touch. All he did was stare off at the horizon, his face hardened by the years of cruelty from his own brother and the prospect of having to face more ridicule due to his disfigurement.

That was the final glimpse she got of him for years, and, since moving to Dragonstone with her family, she hadn’t been back to visit King’s Landing once. Instead, she spent her days flying on dragonback, committing to her studies, and learning to fight with a sword from the best warrior she knew. Her father.

While all of her siblings refer to him as their father due to the union between him and their mother, Y/N says it with a certainty none can question. It wasn’t something Rhaenyra ever meant to admit to her. In fact, it wasn’t her mother who told her at all. It was Daemon. After an afternoon spent fighting, Valyrian steel clashing against Valyrian steel in a symphony of practiced violence, she asked him the question that would confirm the suspicions she had for most of her young life.

Jace, Lucerys, and Joffrey were sired by the late Sir Harwin Strong, that much she knew from the countless rumors hurled at them as well as his consistent presence when they were small, but she knew she was not his nor Laenor’s. It was an open secret amongst all who knew them. And, when confronted with it, Daemon met her with honesty. It was less to do with her and more to do with him, however. He couldn’t bear to pretend she belonged to anyone but him, so he told her.

“Issa drēje, ñuha dōna riña,” he said in their native tongue to keep any guards nearby from eavesdropping.

It is true, my sweet girl.

He tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear in a display of affection not entirely uncommon for his favorite child. It was no secret that he favored her most. After all, she was the heir to the throne, and she retained the very best of his and Rhaenyra’s respective personalities. Then, of course, there was the small fact that she was his, not Harwin’s. He loved his step-children, of course, but she was his most cherished creation of Rhaenyra’s by far.

“Nyke gīmigon istia daor jaelagon naejot rȳbagon bisa, yn i’ll va moriot sagon drēje lēda ao. Ñuha lēkia refused naejot wed zirȳla naejot nyke skori ziry ryptan, sīr ziry teptan zirȳla naejot laenor naejot ruaragon ziry bē,” he explained. I know you must not want to hear this, but I’ll always be honest with you. My brother refused to wed her to me when he heard, so he gave her to Laenor to cover it up.

He then looked at her, and she held his gaze without balking from the intense stare that many unfortunate souls met before taking their last breaths. To her, he wasn’t a monster. He was a ghost she spent her whole childhood chasing after. She still couldn’t believe he was real.

“Yn nyke va moriot jeldan naejot sagon iā kepa naejot ao. Gaomagon daor mirre másino bona.” But I always wanted to be a father to you. Do not ever question that.

With that, a grin broke out on her face, and she nodded along with tear-filled eyes. They never spoke of it again after they returned to the castle where Rhaenyra and the boys were settled at the table for dinner together. It didn’t have to be said aloud again, though. Now that she knew for certain, she didn’t need to dwell on it any longer.

For Aemond, the days they spent at Driftmark for the funeral of Laena Velaryon were a conflicting period of time. For Y/N, it was the beginning of her happiness. All she wanted was to know the truth, to know her father, and that was the first time she was allowed to.

Now, she isn’t sure if she’s as happy as she once was.

The breeze blows her hair from her shoulders as she descends upon King’s Landing atop Vermithor. Like Aemond, she too was raised without a dragon. It was something they once bonded over as children until he nearly bashed her younger brother’s face in with a rock the night he claimed Vhagar. Shortly after their return to Dragonstone, she made it her life’s mission to claim the beast who dwelled in its solitary lair on the island.

Flying settles her nerves better than anything else. Wine tends to make her wallow in sorrow more than anything, talking with her parents only ends in lectures or reassurance she does not seek, and since she is not a male, she cannot frequent brothels without consequence like her brothers could to relieve stress. The only retreat she has is the sky.

Seeing that the rest of her family left by ship ahead of her, she doesn’t expect to see any others on dragonback nearby. As she scans the sky, she sees nothing but the city spread out ahead of her and the endless expanse of ocean beneath. That is, of course, until she sees the shadow passing over her head.

Bigger than her own by a decent margin, she knows that the dragon casting a shadow onto her cannot by any other than the largest in existence. She doesn’t make the mistake of tipping her head back to take a look, however. She makes the choice to feign indifference rather than give in to the demand for attention Aemond shows through flying so close overhead. Unlike her brothers, he doesn’t frighten her, and that small difference in attitude is certain to annoy him.

Vhagar swoops down in a steep dive in front of her, and she hardly has the chance to steer Vermithor out to the right to avoid being smacked with the other dragon’s long tail.

Sensing his sudden state of unease, she reaches down to stroke her gloved hand along the surface of his rough skin and says to him with the same tone her mother uses to soothe her in times of distress, “Lykiri, Vermithor. Lykiri.” She scoffs at the sight of a man with long silver hair to match hers riding on Vhagar’s back. “He poses no threat.”

As expected, Aemond does not taunt them any more than this. The sound of his dragon’s wings flapping in the wind overpowers that of the waves crashing onto the land as they both make their way to the Dragonpit. The folk living in the city whip their head around to catch sight of the giant creatures descending upon them with equal parts fear and enchantment. Targaryens are closer to Gods than men, so what can mere mortals do but watch as evidence of their superior existence shoots through the sky on a set of gargantuan wings?

With Vermithor promptly landed on the sandy ground as far from Vhagar and her rider as possible, Y/N dismounts him with a tired sigh, muscles aching from hours of riding, and climbs down onto unsteady feet. She greets her escort, Ser Harold, with a bright smile despite Aemond’s antics, as well as the reason for visiting in the first place, weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Queen Alicent means to call into question Jacaerys’ inheritance of Driftmark in the absence of Lord Corlys, and, by extension, call the legitimacy of all of Rhaenyra’s offspring into question as well. Y/N remains mostly unconcerned by this. She knows in her heart that she is a trueborn Targaryen, and whatever Alicent may have to say about her brothers will do nothing to change it. So long as King Viserys remains steadfast in his declaration of his daughter and her children as heirs to the throne, there shouldn’t be much to fear.

Just as Aemond turns from his beloved dragon with the intention of beginning the journey back to the Red Keep on foot, the sound of Y/N’s voice halts him.

“Hello, Uncle,” she says with a pointed stare.

He shows no issue with staring right back at her.

“Niece,” he says with no real emotion to the word.

“It has been a while since we last met.”

With one glance, she deduces that he has changed in the time they’ve spent apart. For one, the bloodied scar she saw covered by bandages in the days after Lucerys maimed him has been healed and hidden behind a leather eyepatch. Whatever it is that lurks beneath, she hasn’t a clue. The rest that is visible to her searching eyes is surprisingly agreeable.

He has a strong, sharp jaw, pretty lips, and he stands tall above her height with the sinewy figure of a fine swordsman. As much as it pains her to admit it to herself, he has grown into a handsome man. If it weren’t for the purposefully off-putting demeanor, ancient dragon, and the intimidation accompanying his eyepatch, there’d likely be droves of highborn maidens begging their fathers to set up an advantageous match with the prince.

His stoic face displays no reaction she can discern before he says, “It has, Princess,” and walks off without deigning to speak another word to her.

The first two hours of her arrival are spent becoming acquainted with her chambers and washing the stink of dragon, as her dear grandsire always called it, from her body before formally greeting Queen Alicent and reconnecting with her parents. For as long as she could get away with, she submerged herself in the in-ground, marble bathing tub flooded to the brim with steaming water and gazed out of the opened windows with daydreams of flying back home on Vermithor at once. The citrus-scented oil one of the handmaidens poured into the water washes the sweat and proof of her flight from Dragonstone from her long hair and skin. By the time she dries off and allows the ladies waiting outside of the bathing room to help her dress, she looks brand new.

Her hair is half-up, half-down with simple braids keeping it from falling into her face, and her dress is one of her favorites that was brought on the ship with the rest of her bare necessity belongings. It used to belong to her mother—rich, red fabric with a neckline that hangs off the shoulders with a gold belt cinching her waist and cuffs that circle her wrists. The sleeves are cut open at the center to display her arms, and she cannot help but smile at the sight of her reflection.

Navigating the familiar halls of the Red Keep keeps her occupied on her way to find her parents and brothers. On her way, she passes many servants and guards, all of whom she offers a tight-lipped smile, and walks until she reaches the gardens, then the training yard at the front gate to the castle grounds where she finally spots her brothers.

“Jace! Luc!” she shouts to garner their attention and hurries down the steps to meet Jacaerys in a tight embrace.

She only speaks again once they’re pulling apart, one arm wrapping around Lucerys to pull him into her side, “I missed you both terribly. Dragonstone is not the same without the rest of you residing there.”

Both of them grin at her, their brown eyes crinkling at the sides, and try not to pay attention to the whispers of the onlookers in the yard who call attention to the differences between the boys and their older sister. When standing beside each other, it couldn’t be any more clear. Where their hair is dark, hers is paler than snow. Where they are shorter than their uncles and step-father, she is taller than them both and carries an aura of otherworldliness her mother passed along to her.

At the sight of Lucerys’ gaze shifting toward a clustered group of three talking amongst themselves while looking at them, Jace speaks before she gets the chance, “Pay them no mind, brother.”

Her hand strokes through her younger brother's brunette hair as though to soothe him the same way she had done with her dragon hours prior, and she nods.

“Come, let us watch the men train while you catch me up on what I missed on your journey here. Tell me, did mother and father bicker the whole time? Seasickness makes her quite short with him, and he detests traveling by ship rather than dragonback.”

With that, the three of them launch into a conversation revolving around the events of their voyage here. Due to her combined seasickness and pregnancy-induced illness, their mother was short with everyone, not just Daemon. Jacaerys said that when Joffrey decided to jest with her by chasing her down while holding a rat he found at the bottom of the ship, it took Daemon shooing everyone, the rat included, from their room to prevent her shouting at everyone in her path. As sweet as she is, even their mother has limits when it comes to her boys behaving less like princes and more like pests.

Y/N is still giggling to herself at the thought of it as they come to a stop around the edges of the small crowd that has gathered to watch Ser Criston Cole fight with another man. Through the bodies forming a wall between them and the action, it takes the Princess murmuring, “Excuse me,” softly a few times for her and the boys to reach a decent spot.

The second she gains a clear view, her smile drops.

Though her brothers may not recognize him from behind as she does since they have not seen him in years, she knows it’s him the second she catches a glimpse of his hair swaying with his body’s sharp movements. Her earlier assumptions are quickly proven true. A fine swordsman indeed, she realizes as Aemond spins around with his sword raised at Ser Criston’s neck with an expression that takes pride in his victory before the knight can even form the words.

“Well done, my Prince,” Ser Criston says, panting.

The sword is lowered from his neck without another word from Aemond, and, just as he thinks he might ask Cole to go again, he catches sight of her on the edge of the crowd. Of course, he has no choice but to notice her first. Among the people watching them, she is one of few with hair the same shade as his. Another huge small factor contributing to him noticing her first would have to be her being the only woman present. Although adorned in fine clothing and jewelry fit for a Princess, she looks as though she is comfortable where she stands in the midst of clashing swords and leering men.

His eye follows the neckline of her dress that leaves her neck and shoulders exposed, and he finds his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening involuntarily. His jaw clenches at the delicate slope of her neck giving away to her shoulders. For a second, she finds it difficult to breathe. When pinned down beneath his intense stare, what else could one do but go still and quiet and wait for chaos to ensue?

He shifts his focus to the boys flanking her on either side.

“Nephews,” he says by way of greeting, “Have you come to train?”

She watches in her periphery as Jace opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words, and almost speaks up on their behalf to say their mother is expecting them back soon, but they are saved. The doors to the castle gates open with a thunderous rumble, and everyone’s attention turns from where it had been transfixed upon her siblings to the man who strolls in.

Vaemond Velaryon.

Under her breath, Y/N mutters a hardly audible, “Of course,” with a scoff nobody else surrounding them notices. Except for one. It shouldn’t surprise her that Aemond picked up on her disdain for Corlys’ nephew whom she knows without a doubt will aid Alicent in her attempts to steal her brother’s inheritance from him. Her uncle’s eye remains locked on her as she watches Vaemond walk up the path leading to the castle, and it isn’t until the older man disappears from view that she notices his staring.

Right when Aemond expects her to avert her eyes with the same reproach her brothers have for him, she does the very opposite. How he could ever expect the daughter of Daemon Targaryen to shy away from a challenge, he doesn’t know, but he finds himself surprised all the same.

“Apologies, my Prince, but our mother is expecting us back soon. She sent me to fetch my brothers,” she says without breaking their stare. “Perhaps you may train together at another time.”

She ushers the two younger boys away with a hand on each of their arms without allowing their uncle to get another word. Payback, she supposes, for his curt attitude with her back at the Dragonpit. Over her shoulder, she casts him a glare that could cut a weaker man to the bone. It conveys every word she has yet to say to him, telling him, “If you lay a hand on either of them, I will cut your heart out just as my brother did with your eye.” Her hair swishes in the afternoon breeze as she turns to look ahead of her once more and leaves him standing with Ser Criston Cole in the training yard.

“The Princess is the very image of her mother, is she not?” Ser Criston asks, drawing his attention back to him.

Coming from him in particular, that isn’t the compliment those around them assume it to be. Alicent and Ser Criston have never spoken candidly of what incited their shared distaste for Rhaenyra other than her passing off her bastards as trueborn princes, but Aemond is not a fool. He can sense it in the way Ser Criston speaks and acts regarding his aunt and her children that the reason lies deeper than moral outrage over bastard children.

All Aemond offers in response is a quiet hum in agreement as he sheathes his sword.

The rest of the night following their run-in with Prince Aemond was uneventful for the most part.

Though she did lie to allow her brothers a quick escape from the man who has been yearning to exact revenge against them for years, the first thing she did was find her mother. She and Daemon were coming back to their chambers after speaking with Queen Alicent, and their faces lit up at the sight of their daughter despite how difficult it was to see Viserys in such a state of suffering earlier in the day.

Rhaenyra ran her hands down the sleeves of her dress, feeling the years-old fabric slipping through her fingers, and said with a nostalgic smile, “You look beautiful, my love.”

It was something she heard from her mother at a constant rate, but it warmed her heart even if it were the millionth time she heard the words spoken to her in that soft, caring tone of voice. A moment later, Daemon placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, murmuring something about how good it was to see her.

Now, as she sits at her mother's feet and allows her to braid her hair before she’s off to her chambers to sleep for the night, she flips through a book she found in the library after dinner and becomes lost in her thoughts.

The way Aemond looked at her today in the training yard…It was strange. Not strange in the sense that she has never seen a man look at her like that before. She has. In fact, many men far too old and below her station have looked at her like that and met the glares of her fiercely protective parents who, by the grace of the Gods, agreed to her wish to put off marriage until it became absolutely necessary. No, what made the way Aemond looked at her strange had less to do with her lacking experience in witnessing men admire her beauty and more to do with the fact that it was him.

Of course, he is merely a man. Many gossiping court ladies she overheard when she was little said they are more susceptible to the temptation of the flesh than women are, but she’s never felt the way she did when she caught him staring. There was a rush of heat blooming between her thighs under the skirts of her dress, and she could hardly stand to hold his gaze for the duration of the moment. It felt wrong to feel that way when he was looking at her brothers like they were prey to kill seconds after staring at her.

“I visited Helaena and her children today,” Y/N says suddenly to distract herself from her current train of thought. “I suppose they liked me. They kept pulling at my skirts to get my attention as Helaena and I spoke. She is a wonderful mother to our little cousins.”

Though she couldn’t see it, Rhaenyra smiles and says, “You will make a wonderful mother too one day.” A long pause. “Did you see your uncles as well?”

She shakes her head, which causes her mother to tighten her grip on the strands of hair she’s braiding down her back, then offers a murmured apology before going on to respond to the question.

“Well, I saw one of them. Aemond landed with Vhagar in the Dragonpit when I first arrived. Then, at the training yard, he spoke briefly to Jace and Luc. Thank the Gods I did not have the misfortune of running into Aegon.”

The consistent pulling and twisting of Rhaenyra’s fingers braiding her hair goes still for a moment.

“You do not prefer Prince Aegon, then?”

She scoffs.

“He is a miserable cunt.”

In the connected room, the sound of Daemon’s wry laughter in reaction to the insult echoes and reaches their ears with ease. The hatred her father has for every Hightower in the Red Keep is not hidden from anyone, least of all her, so when she hears him laugh, she cannot help but grin to herself.

“Y/N…” her mother chides.

“I know it is not nice to say such things, but everyone knows it to be true. Helaena is the one I prefer of all your siblings. She is kind to everyone. Aemond is…tolerable, I suppose. A fine swordsman. I prefer both of them to Aegon.”

Rhaenyra hums in consideration of her candid statement.

“As do I.”

It only takes another five or so minutes for her to secure the long braid in order to prevent it from coming undone in her sleep before sending her off to bed. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head as a goodbye, then she is escorted to her chambers by one of the guards stationed outside of her parent’s door.

The throne room is flooded with people by the middle of the next day.

On one side, she, her parents, and her brothers stand before a crowd of curious observers who will surely gossip about what they are to see here today. On the other stands Queen Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. As always, Alicent is dressed in one of her finest green dresses to hammer the extent of their division home as if it weren’t already clear enough, while Rhaenyra wears one of black and red. Her brothers and father wore black by coincidence while Y/N, ever the loyal daughter, picked out a gown to match her mother as closely as she could.

The sight of her decked out in full red and black Targaryen regalia prompted Aegon to snort an unbecoming laugh when they walked in as a family. Alicent was quick to quiet him out of fear that those surrounding them would hear and look upon them unfavorably over his rude behavior. Meanwhile, Aemond simply stared.

She can feel it from across the room despite her attempts to ignore it—that same heated gaze he set upon her yesterday is back. If she weren’t so determined to her feigned act of indifference toward him, it would make her want to squirm in discomfort. It’s impossible to focus on what venomous words Vaemond spouts about her family and why he should inherit Driftmark in place of Jacaerys when she can feel Aemond’s eye on her.

To his credit, he looks away whenever her father scans his gaze around the room. If Daemon saw one of Alicent Hightower’s sons ogling his daughter, who knows what he may be compelled to do? So, every time Daemon’s focus strays from the man pleading his case to the Hand sitting atop the throne, he makes certain to look at anyone but her. Whenever her father’s eyes return to the front of the room, however, he goes straight back to it.

The only thing that manages to break his stare is the sound of the doors to the great hall being pushed open in the midst of Rhaenyra’s speech.

A masculine voice booms through the open space of the hall, “King Viserys of House Targaryen, first of his name!” Every person in the room gasps or takes a deep inhale of some sort at the sight of the frail old man that appears in the doorway, stumbling into the room with a mask covering half of his deteriorating face and a cane in hand. “King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm!”

It is painful to watch him struggle his way down the length of the room, and, considering that, she cannot imagine how much worse it must be for him. Every breath he takes is labored and shallow, heaving for air that evades him at every rise and fall of his chest. The side of his face visible to them all appears pale with dark circles and bags beneath his eyes, leaving her to wonder how much worse the other side could be to necessitate the mask concealing it. It has been years since she last saw her grandsire, and, though she knew he was ill, his current state is worse than she ever could have imagined.

Y/N watches with wide eyes as he approaches where Rhaenyra and Otto Hightower stand on either side of the room with the throne to bisect them in a line of demarcation. There are only two sides as of now—green and black—yet here he stands at the center to bind them together with what little strength he has left in his weary body.

His head cranes to the side to face Otto.

Viserys says, “I will sit the throne today,” and that is that.

It doesn’t get any easier for his family to watch him on his way up the stairs. And though he refuses the help of the guards, he does not tell his brother to back off when he appears at his side to retrieve the crown that slid off of his balding head and escort him the rest of the way to the throne. A soft smile crosses her face at the sight of her father placing the crown onto his head, and she welcomes him back to her side with her hand extended when he walks down the stairs with it never having left her face.

Feeling his rough hand in hers steadies her for what comes next. For having to endure the glares from Vaemond and her uncles when Viserys declares her brother the rightful heir to Driftmark. For having to listen to the hushed whispers that always occur at the sight of Jacaerys and Lucerys’ dark hair and features that resemble that of their biological father.

As the king calls the Princess Rhaenys to speak on behalf of her missing husband, her grip tightens enough for Daemon to give it a reassuring squeeze back. It tells her not to worry. It tells her that he and her mother will die before they let anything happen to her or her dear brothers.

Rhaenys stands with her hands folded in front of her and holds her chin high as she says to her cousin, “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Jacaerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him.” A knowing glance is cast at where Rhaenyra stands side by side with her eldest son, and, in response, Y/N’s mother nods. Just once. “As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luc, to Lord Corlys’ granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

Y/N’s gaze immediately turns to find her father with as much subtlety as possible, and he gives her a nod similar to the one her mother gave Rhaenys to confirm that they plotted this together. It’s difficult not to smirk to herself at the mere thought of the panic Queen Alicent must surely feel as a result of this. She can always count on her parents to be one step ahead, can’t she?

“Well,” Viserys starts, “the matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

Alicent’s eyes avert to the ground in what Y/N guesses is disbelief and shame. Shame for her husband who has never, not once in the course of their marriage, chosen her and their children over himself. Although she admires Viserys’ love for his only daughter, Y/N cannot pretend to miss the sorrow evident on his wife’s face. Still, she finds it hard to have much sympathy for the woman who came after her mother with a knife years ago and actively tried to supplant her brother in the line of succession. Then, there’s the matter of Aegon. In her eyes, a mother who shields her perverted son from the consequences of his actions is no better than the son himself. If Y/N is to bear her future husband a son, she will be sure to raise him the way Rhaenyra has raised her honorable brothers.

Across the room, she catches Aemond’s eye once more and tries to refrain from shifting in place so as to not alert her father of the matter. Seeing that Daemon is rather protective of her, she wouldn’t want to spark any more chaos today than there already has been. This time, however, Aemond does not look at her with the same desire from yesterday. He assesses her from top to bottom, sizing her and her family up as the threat they’ve proven themselves to be.

Their attention is quickly called elsewhere when Viserys speaks again.

“It seems I have another announcement to make. A joyous one, to be sure.”

Her grandsire looks at her with a fond smile, and she can feel dread curling in the pit of her belly like an asp readying itself to strike.

“After speaking with the Princess Rhaenyra, my daughter and I have reached an agreement regarding the betrothal of her eldest daughter.” Imperceptibly to anyone but her, Daemon’s hand tightens its grasp on hers at the announcement that neither of them expected. “I hereby announce the betrothal of Princess Y/N of House Targaryen and my son, Prince Aemond of House Targaryen.”

The room erupts with the sound of gasps and whispers from the observers as well as a few members of the family who hadn’t been clued into the plans of her mother and grandsire. With a quick look around the room, it seems that nobody was informed ahead of time, not even Aemond’s mother. It’s hard for her to think, let alone conjure the ability to speak in order to whisper to her father not to make a scene or challenge the word of his brother. All she can do is try to breathe as deeply as possible through the shock and stare across the room at her uncle as though to ask him if he knew.

By the way he looks back at her with an equal amount of surprise, or, at least, as much as his inexpressive face will allow him to display, he did not know either.

What followed the announcement of her betrothal to Aemond mattered little to her. She did not bat an eye at her father’s cold-blooded murder of Vaemond, nor did she say a word to anyone as she walked in step with her family out of the great hall. To her mother’s terror, Y/N did not make a face or utter anything on the journey to her parents’ shared quarters with her brothers following closely behind.

She has never known her daughter to be a closed-mouthed woman. Growing up, it was something she prided herself on as a young mother—that ferocity, that fire—and admired about her only daughter. That is why Y/N’s silence is troubling by comparison to her typical demeanor. For someone who inherited her temper from her father, someone who has the blood of the dragon flowing in their veins, silence is a precursor to deadly rage.

And when the door closes behind Lucerys, the dragon is unleashed.

“How dare you?” she spits the words with tears welling up in her eyes. “You’ve damned me to a marriage with a man who couldn’t be bothered to speak more than a few words to me after years spent apart! I don’t wish to live here without you, and father, and my brothers, it’s like being thrown to the wolves! Dragonstone is where I’m happiest, mother, you know that!”

She stands in front of her entire family, excluding her youngest brothers Aegon and Viserys who are being tended to by her mother's handmaidens, pleading her case as though she is being put on trial. Jacaerys and Lucerys know better than to offer a comforting touch or words of encouragement at the risk of getting caught in the crossfire, but the sympathy visible on their faces is more than enough to offer the support she needs. The two of them know better than anyone why she is upset at the idea of her betrothal to Aemond. After all, it was Jace whose head he nearly bashed in during a fight years ago and Luc who cut his eye out in defense of him.

Rhaenyra attempts to reach out to her only to have the touch rejected with a gentle shove to the arm to prevent her from holding her daughter’s hand.

“My love,” she says softly, sighing, “I know this is not what you would have envisioned for yourself, but I needed a plan. With you and Aemond wed, with him as your prince consort and the father of your heirs when you ascend to the Iron Throne, the division between our families will cease.” When Y/N scowls at her, she adds, “I took your feelings into consideration to the best of my ability. Your grandsire proposed that you and Aegon be betrothed years ago, but I refused him as a result of your desire to wait until you were older. Then, I proposed Jacaerys and Helaena wed, but Alicent refused. This was the best I could do to benefit both you and the realm.”

The younger woman’s jaw clenches with rage as she forces herself to remain civil and not spew the first nasty words that come to mind. She does not want to say things she will regret later in the heat of the moment, but, fuck, how can any of them expect her to remain calm after what Viserys and Rhaenyra did? Her fists clenched with enough force to break the skin of her palm with the blunt edges of her nails.

Y/N turns her heated gaze to Daemon and asks, “Will you do nothing to stop this, father? You hate the Hightowers just as much, if not more, than me. Do you not give a shit about your daughter being used as a political pawn by your brother?”

Although angry himself, Daemon’s eyes narrow at her abrasive tone of voice.

“Watch your tongue,” he warns. There’s a pause during which he raises his brows at her as if in a challenge, then relaxes his face when she sighs in reluctant obedience. “Your mother and I will discuss this matter privately. As of the present moment, what the King says is law, and you will mind your tone when speaking to your mother.”

Beneath the formality of his words, she can sense his ire for the decision Rhaenyra excluded him from making with her and Viserys. She knew as soon as it was announced that her parents would be going back and forth in argument until the late hours of the night over it, but her mother is not a closed-mouthed woman either. Seeing that she is the heir to the throne, her word holds more weight than his, and if she wishes for her daughter to marry Prince Aemond, it will happen regardless of Daemon’s protests.

Y/N presses her hand to her forehead and turns to face the wall, rubbing her temple as if that will do anything to soothe the thoughts racing through her head. If not even her father has the power to protect her from her fate, what else is she to do but surrender herself to it? Instantly, the wheels begin to spin in her head, and she conjures up the conditions it will take for her to bind herself to Aemond One-Eye.

She turns around and wills her face into a mask of composed poise.

“I have conditions.”

Her mother cannot help but mutter, “Oh, Seven Hells,” under her breath to herself while her father suppresses a chuckle.

“I will do my duty and marry Prince Aemond for the sake of the realm, but I will not forfeit my standards. I know Queen Alicent will want her son wed in the Grand Sept in the tradition of her faith, but I demand a traditional Valyrian wedding as well. Whichever comes first matters not to me, but I won’t forsake the tradition of our ancestors.”

Since childhood, she has dreamt of marrying her eventual husband in the tradition of her house just as her mother did with her father, and no matter how insistent Alicent may be, that dream isn’t one she is prepared to give up without a fight. If she is being taken from Dragonstone and given to one of her sons, the least she can do is accommodate her wishes for her own wedding day.

Rhaenyra offers her a tight-lipped smile.

“Your father and I will support you in that decision, I swear it.” She then asks, “What else?”

“There will be no bedding ceremony. That is sacred, and private, and should remain between us as husband and wife.”

The only thing she can imagine being more mortifying than having to wed a man who does not care for her is having to bed him in front of her grandsire, as well as other grown men and women she would prefer not see her in a state of undress. Not to mention, she would have to resort to burning Aegon to a crisp with Vermithor to avoid him pestering her until the end of her days over what he would witness in the ceremony.

“I agree,” her mother says. “I have no doubts that you and Prince Aemond will fulfill your duty. I see no need for a bedding ceremony either.”

With the silence that follows, the realization that what’s happening to her is, in fact, real nearly knocks her off her feet. Until now, she didn’t have to face it head-on without the buffer of her argument with her parents and the conditions for her agreeing to the marriage between her. That dread she felt in her belly has now spread to the rest of her body and holds her hostage. Yet, through the panic, she recalls the way he looked at her when they were in the training yard and hopes that basic level of desire will be a sturdy enough foundation for a functioning marriage.

She isn’t a fool. She knows that her marriage will not be loving, nor will it be what she wanted for herself in the past, but her mother is right. It is the best opportunity to keep the peace between their families, and marrying Aemond is a better alternative to what could have been with Aegon had her mother agreed with the King those years ago.

“Well, then, I suppose it’s already decided, is it not?” Before either of her parents can get a word in, she turns to her brothers and asks, “Jace, Luc, would you mind escorting me to my quarters? I wish to be alone until we are called to supper with the family.”

They both nod.

When it comes time to walk into the dining room, Y/N isn’t sure if she wants to enter.

An hour or so after she left her parents in their chambers, her father came to visit her in hers. The expression on his face was downcast yet subdued in the way it always is when he’s to deliver her bad news. All it took was one look at his face for her to slam the book she was reading shut and toss it onto the table in front of the chair she was lounging in. Her hair was disheveled from the braids she took down, and she wore her simplest, most comfortable dress available. She looked, for lack of a better word, a mess.

Daemon stalked across the room to her with his mouth clamped shut, one hand on the hilt of Dark Sister, and knelt down on the carpet in front of her. One of his hands reached for hers, and he held it. Without saying anything for the first moment or so, he held her hand because he knew it was what she needed from either him, her mother, or her brothers now that her temper had been given time to cool down. As soon as he saw her finally begin to take deep, even breaths in and out without fail, he allowed his hand to slip away.

“Iksan vaoreznuni, ñuha dōna riña,” he said in their mother tongue to keep any of her handmaidens from overhearing the private conversation. I am sorry, my sweet girl. “Konīr iksis daorun kostan gaomagon.” There is nothing I can do. “Nyke gōntan daor jaelagon ziry hae sȳrī. Yn konir sagon se vyguēsin hen bisa ābrar. Issa jēda ao gūrēñagon skoros māzigon lēda aōha gaomilaksir hae dārilaros.” I know this is not what you want. I did not want it as well. But that is the nature of this life. It is time you learn what comes with your duty as heir.

She huffed a sigh at him in response, wishing to throw a fit and stomp her feet the way she once did as a spoiled young princess, but she didn’t. What frustrated her the most was the fact that he was right. Everyone else was right—her mother, her father, Viserys—and it killed her. It threatened to eat her alive.

Y/N lamented, “Dārilaros Aemond gaomas daor sesīr hae nyke. Emi daorun isse quptenka, kepa.” Prince Aemond does not even like me. We have nothing in common, father. “Nyke gīmigon nyke gōntan daor emagon iā iderennon, yn naejot gaomagon bisa mijegon nyke iksis nūmāzma.” I know I did not have a choice, but to do this without me is mean.

To this, Daemon chuckled.

“Aōha muña gīmigon ao sȳrī. Lo ēdas eptan ao nūmāzma ziry, ao would emagon geptot va Vermithor.” Your mother knows you well. If she had asked you about it, you would have left on Vermithor. “Iksā aōha kepa’s tala. Iksā iā zaldrīzes. Se mērī ñuhoso naejot gaomagon īles naejot ruaragon ziry hen ao.” You are your father’s daughter. You are a dragon. The only way to do it was to hide it from you.

The last part drew a soft giggle from her as well. It wasn’t as if he was wrong. Had she been briefed on the plan to betroth her to her uncle, she would have marched down to the Dragonpit and mounted Vermithor the first chance she got. No, Rhaenyra was right, this was the only way to ensure the plan’s success on both ends. Had anyone told Aemond, she suspects he would have talked to his mother and allowed her to find a way out of it. Perhaps a highborn woman from another house whose gained alliance would prove too good of an offer for the King to overlook.

Her father quieted for a second, then spoke again quite candidly. For he never thought to prepare his most cherished creation for the reality of her ever-looming duty as a wife until now. Selfishly, he thought he and Rhaenyra may keep her forever. He already lost ten years with her, so why wouldn’t he feel entitled to more? But, he realized, she was a woman grown. Soon, she would no longer be his or Rhaenyra’s, nor would she be Prince Aemond’s. She would be her own. The Seven Kingdoms would one day be hers for the taking.

“Se gaomā daor gīmigon skorkydoso olvie emā isse quptenka lēda zirȳla. Ra arlinnon istin iksā wed. Skori ao glaesagon hae valzȳrys se ābrazȳrys, ao mirre hēnkirī. Lēda biarves, kesā mazverdagon naejot hae aōha valzȳrys. Se, lo ziry ōdrikagon ao, ao gīmigon aōha kepa se muña would nekēbagon hen zȳhon tolie laes. Daor bona ao jorrāelagon īlva. Daor, nyke gīmigon ao se vermithor kessa gaomagon sepār sȳz mērī.” And you do not know how much you have in common with him. Things change once you are wed. When you live as husband and wife, you work together. With luck, you will grow to like your husband. And, if he hurts you, you know your father and mother would carve out his other eye. Not that you need us. No, I know you and Vermithor will do just fine alone.

The thought of things changing between her and Aemond felt impossible, but she decided to take his word for it. What else was she to do? After all, her father had three marriages so far, and she had none. If anyone were an expert in the matter, it would be him, not her.

Truth be told, Prince Aemond was not the worst option in the realm. It could’ve been Aegon, and thank the Gods it was not. For one, she did not find him as attractive as Aemond, and he could not wield a sword to save his own skin, so how could she expect him to protect her as his wife? She and Aemond could take down a group of men with their skill as sword fighters alone, standing back to back as a team. The same cannot be said for her other uncle. Not to mention, Aegon had a well-known reputation for forcing himself on the handmaidens who tended to him and his wife. Aemond, however, had never had such vile rumors spread about him. Outside of his obvious lust for revenge against her brothers, he was decent.

After her father departed, it was time to wash for the day and allow her handmaidens to aid her in preparing for supper. Rather than wearing the dress she sported in the Great Hall earlier that day, she opted for her best. If this was her first dinner with her soon-to-be husband and stepmother, she would do her best to make Rhaenyra proud in one of the dresses she had made for her.

Now, the confidence she built up in the secluded sanctuary of her private chambers has dwindled back down, but she doesn’t allow herself to linger outside of the dining room for any longer than a moment. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, then walks in.

Everyone else, save for King Viserys, is already present at the long table pushed toward the other side of the spacious room she enters. She forces her gaze to meet her parents’ eyes first, then her brothers, Queen Alicent, Helaena, Otto, Aegon, then, finally Aemond. He is positioned at the end of the table with an empty chair beside him that she can only assume is meant for her now that they are promised to one another. Mercifully, she is seated on the side closest to her dear Aunt Helaena, not Otto Hightower. Whether that was intentionally planned by her mother, father, grandsire, or new stepmother, she does not know. If she were to bet on it, it would be on the latter. Queen Alicent may have her issues with Y/N’s parents, but she is well aware of her fondness for Helaena.

Rhaenyra gives her an encouraging smile as she watches her cross the room, no doubt approving of her cheerful demeanor whether it’s feigned or not. When she turns to walk toward the side of the table Aemond sits at, she finds herself breathless yet again beneath the intensity of his stare. His eye moves up and down the length of her body in assessment. It lingers on the upper part of her body where the detailing of her blood-red dress becomes more intricate, then notices the statement necklace passed down to her from her mother that clings around her neck.

The neckline of the dress plunges down as far as she is allowed without compromising her modesty. When facing her dead-on from their seats at the table, it does not appear scandalous at all, but when Aemond stands from his seat to pull hers out as his mother instructed him to, the height advantage he has on her changes that.

She says in greeting, their gazes locked, “My Prince,” and sits down as soon as the words leave her.

And though she cannot see it, Aemond grips the back of her chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white at the sight of her. He can only see the side of her face at the moment, but she looks…beautiful. The same conflicted feeling that came over him in the training yard settles inside of his chest again as he sits down in the chair beside her.

The second they are both settled in their seats, though, the doors open again, and they all must stand to welcome King Viserys. It merely takes a moment for the guards assisting him to carry his chair around the side of the table and place him in between Alicent and Rhaenyra. His wife is quick to interlace her fingers with his and ask him how he’s feeling, to which he responds by saying he is fine despite the wheezing breaths he takes.

After Alicent says a quick prayer, he wastes no time in looking upon his family with a smile on his face.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luc, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena.” He then turns to look where Y/N and Aemond sit side by side, not looking or speaking to one another. “My son, Aemond, will marry my granddaughter, Y/N, further strengthening the bond within our house. A toast to the young princes and their betrothed.”

Everyone raises their cups.

“And,” Viserys continues, “to Prince Jacaerys, the future Lord of the Tides.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N watches Aegon’s face twist up into a smile that she can only assume means trouble. But, before her son can ruin the evening just as it is beginning, Alicent plasters a warm smile on her face and turns toward her son’s betrothed.

“Princess, may I ask that I help you design your wedding gown? I would love to aid you in your preparations for the ceremony, seeing that it is far too much for one woman to handle alone in a week.”

She nearly choked on the mouthful of wine she was in the midst of swallowing when Alicent began speaking. Even Aemond tenses slightly at the short timeframe between now, the day their betrothal was announced, and the wedding. It isn’t as if it doesn’t make sense to her. Viserys’ health declines daily at a horrifying rate, and the sooner they are wed, the sooner they create peace between their families.

He watches her closely, studying her as she nods and says, “Of course, my Queen. It would be an honor.”

The whole time, Aemond remains unnervingly silent. It isn’t unlike him at all, but for the situation at hand, she finds herself wishing he were the type to initiate conversation of some sort so she may begin to get to know him better. They were friends when they were children, sure, but much has changed in the years that have passed since they last saw one another at Driftmark, and they are not the children they once were.

“I must admit,” Viserys speaks from beside his wife, “It pleases me so to know that I will be able to witness my youngest child’s wedding. My only hope for you both is that you remain happy together, and that you may have a marriage as fulfilling as mine own.”

For the first time since she arrived, her betrothed speaks.

“I am happy to hear that I’ve pleased you, father.”

The night continues on with little issue from then on. Surprisingly, their mothers do not break into an argument from either side of King Viserys, and, save for a few comments from Aegon here or there that cause her brothers to stiffen with stifled anger, everyone gets along rather well. She and Aemond do not speak to each other as she hoped they would, but he is not cruel or perverted like his brother had it been him she was betrothed to.

In fact, when she looks across the table to see her mother and father talking and laughing with each other, to see her brothers talking with their soon-to-be wives, she cannot help but feel happy to be here. It was the last thing she expected to feel when she spoke to her parents earlier, but she welcomes it. Although it has Aegon scowling into his cup of wine, Jacaerys and Helaena dance together in front of the table with wide smiles, spinning around one another and jumping as though they’re still the children who used to play together.

For a brief moment, everything is perfect. Viserys is glad to see his family together in celebration of his grandchildren’s marriages, Rhaenyra and Alicent are being civil toward one another, and, she decides, Aemond isn’t too bad. Granted, he is hardly speaking to her or anyone else for most of the dinner, but that matters not to her. He’ll warm up to her eventually, she hopes.

Her hope is scattered to the wind the second she sees a servant set down the roast pig in front of Aemond’s place at the table. At first, all he does is turn his head slowly to look at where Lucerys sits further down the table. Her heart begins to hammer in her chest at the threat present in his body language and facial expression. Silently, she prays neither of them does anything to ruin the peace that has fallen over their family tonight, but when Lucerys begins to chuckle to himself at the memory of the time he, Jacaerys, and Aegon pranked him by gifting him a pig, all bets are off.

The table rattles from the hand Aemond slaps down against it, causing everyone sitting before it to either jolt in surprise or look up from their plates to watch him rising to stand.

Under her breath, Y/N murmurs, “Aemond…” but he pays her no heed.

His cup is clenched in one fist that raises to present it to the room.

“Final tribute,” he casts a quick glance at her. “To my betrothed.” He then sets his sights on her younger brother and glares at him with every bit of ire he’s kept trapped beneath the surface since they last saw each other. “And her brothers. Jace. Luc. Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” There’s a heavy pause. Tension floods the room in the time he takes to consider his words, his eye refusing to stray from where her brother is sitting at the end of the table. “Strong.”

“Aemond,” his mother is quick to say.

Without thinking, Y/N reverts to the child she was when she, her cousins, and her brothers fought him over his claiming of Vhagar and reaches to pinch him on the leg in warning. It’s hidden beneath the surface of the table where their parents cannot catch notice of it, so when she does it, he is the only one who reacts. Even then, it isn’t much of a reaction. All he does is clench his jaw in annoyance. As though she’s a fly buzzing around his face that he wishes to swat away.

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys—“

Jacaerys marches forward a step and says, his voice unwavering in its command, “I dare you to say that again.”

From where she sits, she can see the corner of Aemond’s mouth twitch with the urge to smirk. That bait has been taken.

“Why? T’was only a compliment.” At this, her brother begins to walk across the room to him, and her Prince takes that as his chance to turn to him. “Do you not think yourself strong?”

The sound of her brother’s fist meeting his face is soft, only heard by her and Otto as they are the closest over everyone else’s sounds of shock. Aemond takes the hit without wobbling where he stands, not even a little, and he turns back to see Jacaerys with a feral grin on his face. All it takes is a shove against his chest and her brother is sent tumbling into his back on the floor. Her mother shouts his name in disappointment at his violence, but neither of them listens.

Chaos has broken out amongst the family for the second time today, and Y/N doesn’t know what to do other than reach out to grab onto his arm.

“Do not touch him,” she hisses, looking up at Aemond from beneath her furrowed brows.

A muscle in his jaw jumps with him clenching it tightly in restraint, looking down not at her but at the bare hand wrapped around his. She holds onto him as though he is her lifeline, and he cannot help but look back over his shoulder at her brother as he breaks free from the guards restraining him to attack again. On instinct, Aemond rips his hand from her forceful grip with little struggle and moves forward to meet him halfway, damning whatever consequences it may have with her.

Just when the two men are about to reach one another with the promise of violence visible on their faces, they are stopped.

Daemon walks between them and forces his stepson to retreat back to where the guards are standing in a row behind him. All it takes is him holding up a hand, telling everyone else to back off, before he spins back around to face Aemond. His hand rests on the hilt of Dark Sister as a silent threat in time with the heavy sigh that sinks his shoulders.

Her father looks at him the way he used to look at her when she would talk back to him as a child. It must infuriate Aemond to be looked at like a petulant child in need of scolding, but he does not say anything. He simply walks off in the direction of the doors.

Y/N pushes her chair out behind her without a care for how Rhaenyra and Alicent call after her to stay, storming out after Aemond with no small amount of anger swirling within her.

The doors open and slam shut behind her as she rushes to catch up with him halfway down the long hallway with a few servants walking in either direction. His hair swishes from side to side with every harsh step, and she longs for nothing more than to wrap it around her fist and yank on it to gain his attention for what he said to her brothers tonight.

She raises her voice at him, “Keligon!” Stop.

Instead of listening, he continues to walk away from her, and she cannot stop herself from grabbing him by the arm to turn him around to face her. Their difference in strength prevents her from moving him, but she does manage to halt him, and that is not an opportunity she ignores.

“Ēdā daor paktot naejot gaomagon bona! Lucerys iksis iā ābrītsos valītsos, iksā vala. Gaomagon daor iderēbagon va zirȳla syt ra kostas daor dohaeragon!” You had no right to do that! Lucerys is a young boy, you are a man. Do not pick on him for things he cannot help!

Aemond whirls around, invading her space with a hand grasping onto her wrist to yank her hand from his forearm. There’s a crazed look in his eye, and he does not care that the servants at the end of the hall are watching despite not being able to understand their language anyway. Let them talk.

“Ēdan daor paktot? Mazēdas ñuha laes! Lo kostan glaesagon mijegon ñuha laes, kostas gryves issare brōztagon iā nādrēsy!” I had no right? He took my eye! If I can live without my eye, he can bear being called a bastard.

Her face scrunches with rage, brows furrowing, and she plants her free hand on his chest to shove him back only to be seized with both of his hands on her shoulders.

“Vestā aōla bona iā laes iksis iā litse odre syt iā zaldrīzes. Lo ao konir sagon drēje, skoro syt ēdruta ao ōregon bisa toliot zȳhon bartos? kesan aderī sagon aōha ābrazȳrys. Aōha ābrazȳrys! Istia daor ōdrikagon ñuha lēkia.” You said yourself that an eye is a fair price for a dragon. If that is true, why must you hold this over his head? I will soon be your wife. Your wife! You must not harm my brother.

The sparks between them flare up into a wildfire incapable of being contained. Two dragons face off in a fight neither of them will back down from, readying themselves to cause one another harm at a second’s notice. She can feel the heat of his rapid exhales puffing against her face as they are locked in an intense stare, and his hands squeeze her shoulders hard enough to leave bruises behind on her delicate skin.

Aemond says, “Lo iksā naejot sagon ñuha ābrazȳrys, skoro syt ēdruta ao mīsagon lī qilōni ōdrikagon nyke? Lo daor syt Lucerys, aōha valzȳrys would daor jurnegon bisa ñuhoso.” If you are to be my wife, why must you defend those who hurt me? If not for Lucerys, your husband would not look this way.

“Nyke hae se ñuhoso ao jurnegon! laes iā daor, iksā iā gevie vala! Kostilus bisa kostagon emagon issare vestās ondoso sir lo ao jenitis naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke tubī!” I like the way you look! Eye or no, you are a beautiful man. Perhaps this may have been said by now if you bothered to speak to me today. “Nyke shifang bona ziry pryjatan ao, yn ao brōztagon zirȳ nādrēsy ēlī.” I understand that he struck you, but you called them bastards first.

“Issi nādrēsy!” They are bastards!

She rips herself out of his clutches and reaches up to grab him by the chin, forcing him to meet her gaze and listen to what she says next.

“Ñuha muña se kepa sia daor wed skori īlen vēttan, se kesīr iksan. Aōha ābrazȳrys. Gaomas bona jenigon ao? Kessa bisa gaomagon ao hen issare lēda nyke? Kessa ziry jenigon ao naejot qogralbar aōha nādrēsy ābrazȳrys?” My mother and father were not wed when I was made, and here I am. Your wife. Does that bother you? Will this keep you from being with me? Will it bother you to fuck your bastard wife?

This seems to stop him for an instant. It causes his eye to turn wide and his nostrils to flare with the strange mixture of anger and attraction he feels for her at this moment, and he is too stuck on what she said to care or notice that she is still holding his chin. Although he loathes her brothers, he cannot deny the effect she has on him. Every potential match his mother has introduced to him has been a simpering, bashful high-born lady who assumes that their skill in needlepoint or singing will woo him. None of them presented him with a challenge. They all gave way under the slightest bit of pressure, but she doesn’t. She never has.

The sweet scent of the bathing oil she used while soaking in the tub in her chambers clings to her half-up, half-down braided updo. It takes everything he has to not reach up to run it through his fingers. He isn’t sure why the urge comes to mind, but as soon as he notices the citrus scent, he has to pull his chin out of her hand and put a distance between them to keep himself at bay.

He shakes his head at her.

“Emā iā vaogenka relgos syt iā riña.” You have a dirty mouth for a lady.

She counters back without missing a beat, “Iksā olvie nūmāzma syt iā dārilaros.” You are quite mean for a prince.

Aemond steps back again, allowing his eye to roam up and down her figure in a lingering, selfish stare. The neckline of her dress allows him a generous glimpse at her breasts, pressed up against the fabric in a way that begs him to tear it off of her. What she failed to realize when he ignored her throughout their family dinner was that he could not say the things he wished to in the presence of her parents and brothers.

All he offers in response is a, “Hmm,” and turns on his heels to walk off down the hallway without her.

For the next three days, she does not see Prince Aemond, but it isn’t his fault. If anything, it is hers.

She refused to leave her chambers for the entire first day following their betrothal. The events of the day prior had been chaotic enough to provide her excitement for the week, so she resigned herself to a day of solitude her mother allowed due to the whirlwind of drama from their family dinner. If not for her marriage to Aemond being planned, her family likely would have left to return to Dragonstone after the fight broke out between her brothers and her betrothed, but Rhaenyra was quick to reassure her that they were not going anywhere.

The comfort of her mother’s warm hand stroking her back as she hugged her to her chest, pressing the swell of her pregnant belly into her abdomen, soothed the nerves that plagued her in anticipation of the wedding.

“Your betrothal does not mean we are abandoning you, my love. I promise to stay here by your side until you become accustomed to living in King's Landing again.”

They talked and spent time together that first day, just the two of them, until the sun faded below the edge of the horizon. The topic of conversation varied between gossiping about what happened at the family dinner and Rhaenyra answering her myriad of questions about marriage. No one sent for them or dared to disrupt the sanctuary created within the walls of her room. It wasn’t until her brothers and Daemon came knocking that they were forced to come back to reality.

The second day, she read two modestly-sized books, walked to her brother Jacaerys’ chambers to pass the time with a quick conversation, and wasted at least thirty minutes soaking in the tub until the water went cold. Other than that, there wasn’t much she could do to quell her boredom without leaving her rooms.

On the third day, her father forced her out of bed and dragged her down to the Dragonpit, insisting that a ride on Vermithor would lift her spirits. And it did. She thanked Daemon the minute she landed back in the dragon pit where he waited for her, stranded without his beloved Caraxes there for him to fly. All he did was throw an arm around her shoulder and tell her they would practice in the training yard next. This set her on edge at first, wondering if she would run into Aemond for the first time since he left her in the hallway, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he too was sulking and isolating himself in his chambers.

Today, she finally tired of hiding herself away with nothing to occupy her and made her way to the Godswood with her favorite book from the library tucked under her arm.

Y/N sits beneath the Weirwood tree, back pressed up against the thick trunk and book flipped open to rest on her thighs. It has been at least an hour since she arrived if the position of the sun in the sky changing where the shadows of the leaves fall has anything to say for it, and she has yet to look up from her story. The warm breeze blows at her face to keep her from feeling too warm in the arid summer. It has not rained in a moon, and every blade of grass beneath her as she walked up to her favorite tree was brittle from nature’s neglect.

Distantly, she hears the soft footfalls of someone crossing the same brittle grass she had to reach the tree, but she doesn’t lift her gaze from the book to greet them. It is most Queen Alicent’s most trusted lady in waiting coming to fetch her for wedding preparations. Either that or it’s Lucerys coming back to bug her as he had earlier because he was bored.

The last thing she expected was to hear Aemond’s voice.

All he says is, “Hello, niece.”

When she lifts her eyes from the pages of her book to see him, the sun halos him from behind, turning the edges of his silver hair warm from its marigold rays, and before she can stop herself, a slight smile finds its way to her lips. She hadn’t been lying the other night when they argued in the hallway. She does find him handsome, and there are fond memories from her childhood with him far different from those which he shares with her brothers. There was never any cruelty between them. He enjoyed that she was learning to wield a sword and often asked her to practice with him before the drama of their family pulled them apart.

Before she can get a word in, he’s extending his arm to present a small, green velvet box to her. By the looks of it alone, she deduces that it is jewelry of some sort, but she won’t know what exactly it is until she opens it.

“What’s this for?” she asks and takes the box into her possession.

It sits, cradled in her lap on top of the book, until she pushes the lid open. A necklace. Gold with modest rubies set along the chain until a slightly larger one, set in the mouth of a roaring dragon, hangs from the center of it. In truth, it is stunning. She has never owned nor seen a piece of jewelry like it in her mother’s collection, and it’s hard to refrain from asking him to put it on her straight away.

“My mother told me I must court you,” he says, voice even and comically unexpressive. “I’d like to see you wear it for our wedding ceremony.” Then, having heard of her desire for a traditional Valyrian ceremony through Queen Alicent, he clarifies, “The public one.”

She looks up at him again.

“This is what you call courting, my Prince?”

Of course, the gift is better than what any other potential suitor could have given her, but, for the sake of torturing him, she couldn’t resist the urge to say it. Marrying a man who cannot be bothered to spend time with her or engage in conversation with her is not in her plans. If she is to become his wife, he’ll need to work for it, and as pretty as the necklace may be, she’d prefer actually getting to know him over a gift.

Aemond tilts his head to the side as though in curiosity.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. What else would you like me to do, Princess?”

Without further ado, the velvet jewelry box is shut and placed on the ground to the left side of her. The book remains flipped open on her lap to the page she was last reading from, and she glanced up and down between it and him.

“Well, you could ask me what I’m reading first,” she suggests. “I know we were friends as children, but it has been many years since then. All I’m asking is to know my husband before we’re wed. To do so, we would have to actually talk to one another for a change.”

There’s a stretch of silence following this.

All she hears is the breeze ruffling through the leaves of the treetop above and the sound of distant conversation between servants as they stare at each other. He narrows his eye at her, then smiles to himself and closes the distance between them with two long strides. The thick roots of the tree serve as seats for them to lounge upon, and he takes the one emerging from the ground right beside her as his seat of choice. It looks a little funny from her perspective to see him awkwardly perched on the room of the great tree with his arms braced on his knees and his focus solely set on her.

“What are you reading?” Aemond then asks.

She closes the large book with a soft “thump” sound and leans back against the trunk with her head tilted back just so to allow her to look up at him.

“I found it the last time I was here. In the library. Septa Marlow ripped it from my hands before I could read a single word, so, of course, I snuck back in later to see what all the fuss was for.” He fights the urge to smile at that. Her fingers, decorated in rings passed down to her from her mother, curl around the edges of the book and raise it to present it to Aemond as though it is a prize as sought after as the Iron Throne. “A Caution for Young Girls. The story of Lady Coryanne Wylde. After discovering its contents, I soon understood why the septa tried to keep it from me. It was far too scandalous for a young maiden such as myself to read.”

A scoff comes from the Prince as he takes it into his possession and flips it over in his hands to inspect it.

“I have only ever heard of it. I prefer history and philosophy.”

She perks up at the opportunity to gush about her favorite book to someone.

“It’s about her erotic adventures before becoming a septa in Oldtown later in her life. It’s quite entertaining. I rather enjoy reading books separate from my studies. It’s like entering a different world or living a different life.”

Under his breath, she can hear him mutter, “Erotic adventures,” incredulously to himself as though it is the most ridiculous topic for a book he has ever heard, and it earns a snorting laugh from her.

“What? Your brother can frequent brothels on the Street of Silk as much as he’d like yet I cannot read about it in place of having the freedoms only given to men in this world?”

The wind blows strands of his hair out of place enough for her to reach up and tuck it back where it belongs without thinking. Her sudden movement almost caused him to jerk away in blind anticipation of having to react physically before he forces himself to remain still. After a second, his body begins to relax at the feeling of his fingers running through his hair and pushing it back into place where it previously laid. When her hand comes back to rest in her lap, he manages to find his voice.

“You will not have to read about it for much longer, though, will you?”

Suddenly, the eye contact they maintain becomes unbearable for the both of them. Y/N stops herself from shifting in place in discomfort due to the strange feeling between her thighs at the implication of his words, and Aemond cannot ignore the thrill it gives him to see the effect he has on her.

Perhaps this marriage will be easier than she previously thought.

Let me know your thoughts! Part Two with the wedding, smut, and drama will be written shortly.

Taglist: @mvrylee

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #fanfiction

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ranna-alga · 19 days

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Idk about you guys but I am an absolute sucker for stoic, strong, providing/protective, "macho-macho" male characters absolutely just breaking down when the going gets a bit too tough. Willing to shoulder any burden or battle scars if it means granting their loved ones' safety, but cracking when it gets too much, getting disheveled when things go wrong, when things are out of their control, when they've lost so much that they cannot hold it in anymore. They cannot continue being strong, at least just for now when they just need to decompress.

With that said, Arthur Morgan absolutely deserved to have a good cry. I'm upset he hasn't in the game, at least from what we have seen. Despite how strong and hardened this 36-year-old seasoned outlaw is, he is still a man - a good man at heart (at least in my canon as a High Honour truther).

There is no way he couldn’t have cried on the ship after watching his own father and mentee/lowkey-son-figure die right before his eyes. There is no way he couldn’t have cried when he failed his chance of running away with the love of his life whilst he still had the chance, and having to come to terms with the fact that the last memory she will hold of him will be him making another promise he couldn't keep + that the last piece of her he has left is her essentially writing him out of his life with no time or opportunity to explain. There is no way he couldn’t have cried when the fear of death/the fate that awaited him and his loved ones got too overwhelming for him. There is no way he couldn’t have cried when he started seeing both life and death differently after Sister Calderón's inspiring words in that train station.

He deserved to have a good cry. Arthur, a man living in the American 1890s where there was a certain expectation for men (outlaw or otherwise) to surpress any 'weak' emotion, finally admitting "I'm afraid" was one of the 'manliest' and most human moments we ever see him have, and it was so simple yet so beautiful. The man has been through so much pain as much as he has inflicted it - he deserves a hearty moment of release. To cry, to sob, to wail, whatever. He just needed that after everything.

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 4 months

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Lake House Days

jack hughes x teen mom!reader

note: i love writing little kid dialogue

word count: 1.3k

Bringing the twins anywhere was hard, but having to fly and a long drive to the lake house, was a big trip for the kids. And a very long day for Y/n. All that along with meeting new people, well she knew Jack’s parents, and his brothers, and she met Trevor once. But this would be the first time Jack’s family (minus Luke) and friends were meeting her kids. What if they didn’t like their son dating someone with kids, of course they did know, but knowing and seeing were different things.

“Love, you okay?” Jack’s soothing voice broke Y/n out of her anxious thoughts, just like he always does.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” “About what?” The man gives his girlfriend's thigh a gentle and reassuring squeeze, from where said hand had been resting since they got in the car. Y/n checked over her shoulder, seeing the twins sleeping soundly, Abby’s head leaning on her brother’s shoulder, smiling Y/n turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

“Just of everyone meeting the twins… Your parents and Quinn meeting the twins.” The woman admits, her voice low, more aware of her sleeping children now.

“They are going to love them, they love kids and my family loved you when you met for the first time.” Jack assured her, making a quick glance taking in her reaction before returning his eyes to the road and continuing, “Abby and Eli charm anyone they meet, without them charming me, I would have never talked to you.” “Shut up.” The woman says, smiling.

“Well I hope you got the last of your nerves out because we’re here.” Jack says, pulling into the long driveway of the beautiful and large lake house. Putting the car in park among the impressive number of cars already here, and turning to face the younger girl.

“Ready?” “As I’ll ever be.”

As Y/n slowly tried to wake up the twins, Jack unpacked the car, in the end neither child was ready to wake just yet, leading to Y/n carrying Abby and Jack carrying Eli. The door opened before Jack could open it himself, the image of Quinn in their sights.

“Hey- oh hi.” the man says more quietly after realising the sleepiness in both the twins' faces.”Hey Quinny.” Jack greets his brother, doing the usual bro hug guys to, as well as he could with Eli in his arms. “We’re gonna put these two in their room, then we’ll come down and see everyone.”

Jack and Y/n walk down the stairs after Y/n finally got Eli settled. “Hi Y/n!” Ellen says seeing the couple coming down and bringing Y/n into a tight hug, “Hi Ellen!” “Where are Eli and Abby?” truthfully Y/n never thought Ellen or any of Jack’s family would care to know her children, and it was never anything they had done, in actuality they have done everything to disprove that notion. But with years of dating as a single mother it was more common than not that any partner's family wouldn’t want anything to do with her babies. “They're both napping, they've had a long day already.” “Oh of course! Believe me I know.”

Spending the past hour without the twins and just getting to know Jack’s family and friends better first, had done a lot to ease her anxiety that this time would in fact be different. Y/n and Ellen talked all about how fast your kids grow, Y/n didn’t really have mom friends so it was refreshing to talk about her kids with someone that could relate. This along with Ellen telling many child Jack stories, much to the man’s dismay.

“Mommy?” A quiet, sleepy voice mumbled rubbing his eye with one hand and his sister’s in the other, the young girl’s own other hand holding her most prized possession, her blanky.

“Hi huns! You’re up?” Her rhetorical question causes the girl to nod her head, while jumping into her mom’s lap. Eli walked over to lean his arms on her arm rest, and his head on her chest. “Ready to meet everyone?” The twins’ mother whispered, while most people surrounding the fire were watching. Both 5 year olds nodding their heads, Y/n continues, “This is Ellen and Jim, they’re Jack’s parents.” The woman says, directing their attention to her right where Ellen and Jim sat. Both children mumble a quiet ‘Hi’ back. “And that’s Quinn, Jack’s other brother.” The same routine continued on, the two successfully convinced all that they were shy. Until Eli walked up to Trevor and sat on his lap, mischief must detect mischief, but Abby stuck to sitting with her mom. Scoping out who here will be her best friend.

“Hun, I need to put sunscreen on you.” Y/n said, trying to reason with her son. She already got Abby ready, Abby was only difficult getting ready if she had a reason to be, Eli however was difficult just because it was fun.

“No!” “Baby, if you don’t put this on you’re gonna get burnt just like Lia did last summer remember? She could barely move, do you want that to happen to you.” “No..” The boy mumbled, accepting defeat and lifting his arm for his mom. “Thank you.”

“Jacka, what we doing today?” Abby was going through a phase of adding ‘a’ to random words in her sentences leading to her giving Jack the new nickname. While the young girl was letting Jack put on her shoes, the man answered her question excitedly and lifting the girl off the bed and onto the floor, “Going on the lake today!” “On boat?” “Yes ‘on boat’.” “Momma we going on boat” She repeated for her mom, even though the woman was a foot away from her and already heard it. “Maybe, hunny. Not for sure. Okay! You’re both ready, how ‘bout you guys go downstairs and help Ellen with snacks?” “Okayyy!” “Okay-a!” Both children yell, running out of the room.

Once they were excited, Jack pushed the bedroom door closed and walked over to his girlfriend. In the time that they’ve been dating, when the twins are around you take any time alone together you can get. Leaning down only slightly Jack gently presses his lips to Y/n’s, her immediately kissing him back. Her hands went around his neck, his own resting on her lower back just above her ass.

Breaking apart Y/n whispers against his mouth, “Okay, ready?” “Yep” he says, stealing a quick peck before exiting the room himself.

“I spy… Something invisible.” Eli announces, turning from looking all around him to looking at Trevor and Cole. “What’s invisible?” the taller boy asked, he’d been taking the game pretty seriously and Eli just threw a curveball at him. “Dude, I don’t know!” Before the two could embarrass themselves, Eli stepped in, “The air!!!” “Oh! Duh!” “Good one, man!”

This was too complex for Eli’s brain but he often latched onto male figures in his life; of course he had Lia’s dad but he didn’t see him often, so not having one for himself, he loved Jack and his friends, they gave him what he didn't have.

Y/n was watching the three play eye spy from her spot on Jack’s lap. And checking over at Ellen and Abby playing ‘Go Fisha’ as Abby calls it. After a moment of Jack not having her full attention, he brings his right hand from the woman’s lower back to rub her upper thigh, grabbing her attention once again.

“You okay?” “Yeah.” Y/n says, a smile from ear to ear spreading across her face. She is so happy. Having Jack, and people besides herself and the people she considers family (Lia and her parents) caring about the twins I was something she wasn’t sure she would ever feel. Last night even, Y/n put the kids to bed and Eli asked her if Jack was going to be their dad, it almost made her cry on the spot. But what did make her cry happy tears was that her answer, not that she spoke it to Eli, was closer to a ‘yes’ than a ‘no’.

“Yeah, I’m really happy.”

~taglist~

@yabbadabbawhosposts @mallory78 @fulla02 @mostellasm

#jack hughes x teen mom!reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x fem reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x girlfriend!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #hughes brothers #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte

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belovedmuichiro · 3 months

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I saw a post once that entertained the idea of Tsutako being in the background of Sanemi’s hometown in the anime, and it got me thinking about a sanegiyuu childhood meet cute.

…

- When Giyuu was 13, he took a trip with Tsutako to a neighboring city where her fiancé had come from

- Though Giyuu was a much friendlier person as a child, he was still quiet, reserved and nervous. As a result, being in a bigger city was overwhelming and he struggled to keep up with Tsutako as they walked

- Before they could reach her fiancé’s home, Giyuu was separated from her in a crowd

- Without any people skills to speak of or the confidence to ask for help, Giyuu let the crowd swallow him up until he found a small spot he could cower in

- He ended up hiding under the stairs of a shrine where nobody could see him. He cried so quietly, nobody could possibly hear him either, but a boy did miraculously find him

- The boy was strikingly beautiful with stark white hair and piercing eyes. His presence made Giyuu stop crying almost immediately, but only because he was mesmerized.

- When the boy spoke, he was blunt and sort of rude but Giyuu hung onto every word he said as if he was a kind spirit come to save him

- “You cry like my little siblings,” he observed. It was a simple, random sort of thing to say but it perplexed Giyuu so much that he didn’t cry any longer

- Giyuu learned that this particular shrine is where the boy would find one of his brothers hiding, so when he saw Giyuu curled up, he thought something might’ve happened to him

- Giyuu reluctantly explained he was separated from Tsutako while visiting. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he should trust a stranger but they were clearly of a similar age and that put him at ease compared to an adult

- The boy gave Giyuu a small canteen of water before they could continue because the crying had obviously overwhelmed him. He then asked for the fiancé’s name, which he scowled upon hearing, surprisingly knowing the person

- “Is that bad?” Giyuu nervously asked

- “He’s one of the sons of our landlord,” the boy explained, “He’s fine. His family’s a buncha dicks.”

- Profanities aside, Giyuu asked if he could lead him there, and the boy agreed

- “What did his family do?” Giyuu asked on the way

- “Their kid brother said some shit about my family bein’ too big and my brother got into a fight with him about it.”

- “How big is your family?”

- “Nine of us. I have six siblings.”

- Giyuu learned that his mother had just given birth, which prompted the rude comment from their landlord’s son. He also had a father who he didn’t want to talk about on account of him angering some violent people

- Though the boy didn’t seem terribly interested in prying into Giyuu’s life, he still asked, “What about you?”

- “I just have my sister. My parents died when I was young.”

- “Lucky you have a sister.”

- “Yes… I’m Giyuu, by the way.”

- For a moment, the boy looked hesitant to give anymore details about himself, but must’ve decided he doesn’t have much to lose.

- “Sanemi.”

- On the way to the landlord’s home, it began to rain so Sanemi pulled Giyuu aside near a food stall to wait it out.

- Giyuu, as luck would have it, did have a small amount of money on him and suggested they share a meal.

- Sanemi agreed, not letting on that he rarely has enough money to ever eat out. However, Giyuu became curious when Sanemi awkwardly held his food at his side and wouldn’t take a bite.

- He didnt want to admit it, but his plan was to pocket whatever Giyuu bought him to bring home to his family. He wasn’t going to tell Giyuu, but the boy’s earnest, honest face pulled it out of him

- In response, Giyuu bought him another and asked that he feed himself as well

- When Sanemi finally did eat, Giyuu smiled for the first time. It flustered Sanemi, who quickly learned he couldn’t handle a pretty face

- When the rain ended, people came flooding to the streets in overwhelming numbers that scared Giyuu again

- To reassure him, Sanemi grabbed his hand and returned his earlier smile, promising he’ll be okay as long as they stick together

- Giyuu took to Sanemi with awe. The crowd was still scary, but Giyuu grounded himself in the feeling of his companion’s hand and trusted his word.

- Eventually they did find themselves at the landlord’s house. Most of the family was out looking for Giyuu, but luckily Tsutako stayed and was there to greet him.

- This was also a relief to Sanemi, who wasn’t sure he would be able to resist driving his fist into the face of the boy who fought with Genya

- Sanemi intended to leave with no commotion, just an odd empty feeling at the notion of leaving his new acquaintance, but Giyuu stopped him

- “Thank you for helping me,” he said with much more confidence than the first time he spoke. “You’re very kind, Sanemi.”

- Sanemi, flustered, shrugged and promised it was no problem. “Couldn’t just leave ya there…”

- “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

- When Giyuu said this, he held onto the hope that because Tsutako new husband had close ties to Sanemi’s, they would surely meet again one day

- It was hard to explain but Giyuu felt drawn to Sanemi, like he was a special person he was meant to meet

- Of course, he couldn’t predict the tragedy that would befall both of them

- Years later, long after Tsutako and the Shinazugawa family were murdered, Sanemi was welcomed into the Hashira and finally met Giyuu again

- Only this time, he was quiet and cold. He didn’t give any indication that he remembered Sanemi and didn’t have any of the kindness he was full of as a child. Sanemi decided that he must’ve turned into a conceited ass with no time for the little people, he probably didn’t even remember him.

- But it was impossible for Giyuu to forget who Sanemi was. Even under all the scars and curses, he was still the boy who saved him that day. But Giyuu knew they had fundamentally changed as people, and clearly Sanemi wanted nothing to do with him any longer

- Unfortunately for them, the draw remains there no matter how far apart they try to drift.

#emmie speaks #I’m. love them.#sanegiyuu #demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #kny manga spoilers #baby sanegiyuu

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imtryingbuck · 3 months

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Thirty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,109

Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. Engagement. Wedding. Death (Cancer) someone makes an appearance. Swearing. Fluff.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

~Two and a half years ago~

The barbeque get-together that Howard and Maria was throwing was in full swing, Y/n and Bucky along with Steve and Sam was sitting at a wooden bench laughing at something that Tony had shouted to Morgan – his daughter.

Y/n sat there with Bucky’s arm around her shoulders listening to whatever he was talking about with the boys, every now and again he would press a kiss to her temple. Her eyes drifted over to where her dad and George was manning the grill, chuckling softly as George pulls Howard closer and all but force him to dance along with the music that was playing through the speakers. Every time her eyes caught her mommas and Winnie’s both women smiled brightly and turned to each other to whispering to each other.

“Son, come here” George shouted.

“Be back in a second pretty girl” Bucky told her, getting up and walking over to his dad and Howard. Maria and Winnie soon following, as well as Sam and Steve. Then Tony and Pepper – his wife. Then Rebecca – Bucky’s sister – joined them.

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion she went to get up but Morgan came bouncing over to her “Auntie Y/n do you like my wings?”

“I do sweetie”

“Do you want some?”

“I do”

“I can ask uncle Bucky to get you some”

Chuckling at the four year old she nodded “I would appreciate it if you did”

“Then we can match all the time and be fairies”

“That would be amazing-“

“Morg come here darling” Pepper called for her daughter.

Morgan turned to face her mom and confused Y/n even more by asking “Did I do good mommy?”

“You did sweetheart” Pepper replied, smiling at Y/n.

Everyone moved closer together as Bucky moved towards Y/n, smiling softly he took her hand in his.

“Y/n I love you more than anything in this world. You are my light, my happiness, my sweet Bunny. I am forever grateful for meeting you that day in the woods, because if I didn’t I would have never known the true meaning of love. Bunny will you do me the honours of being my wife?” Getting down on one knee he holds out a box, inside a gorgeous diamond ring.

“Yes” she whispered, tears threatening to spill over. “Yes I’ll marry you Ducky!”

Jumping up her picks her up and spins her around, placing kisses all over her face and finally her lips.

Everyone erupted in cheers. Congratulating the couple on their engagement. The moms had the audacity to act as if they hadn’t seen the ring before, the dads wiped their tears before anyone could see them.

“I love you Bunny”

“I love you Ducky”

It had been two and a half years since they were engaged, there was a few setbacks that made them not rushing into marrying.

First setback was their new home, both sets of parents paid for it as an early wedding gift, it was a beautiful house she had to admit but for Y/n it was way too big just for the two of them. A large gorgeous kitchen, two living rooms, two offices – one going to be turned into a library. Six bedrooms. Yes six. Three and a half bathrooms.

Gorgeous but way too big.

Not wanting to upset anyone or seem ungrateful she placed a huge smile on her face as she hugged her parents and surrogate parents turned in-laws. Moving in and redecorating took longer than planned.

The second setback was Bucky taking over his dads company. There was a lot of business he needed to take care of and Y/n understood, so the wedding got pushed back once again.

The third being Y/n’s biological father showing up.

She was walking down the street with Bucky, Steve and Sam. The plan was to buy some more furniture for the house, and Steve and Sam just had to come too.

The guys went into one store as Y/n went to get a drink from across the street. Everything was fine until-

“Y/n? Y/n” She couldn’t understand why that voice sounded so familiar to her ears until she turned around.

“Hi baby…wait don’t you recognise me? Y/n it’s me, your dad.”

No. No this was not happening. Nope this was a very bad nightmare, come on Y/n wake up.

“Surprised to see me aren’t you? I got out on good behaviour”

Nope, nope this was just life taking the mickey out of me. Wakey wakey Y/n!

“Why are you being weird for? Come and give your old man a cuddle”

The thought of touching you makes my skin crawl. Where the hell is Ducky when I need him? No no no no stay away from me!

“Look how you’ve grown baby girl”

Why aren’t you moving Y/n? What is wrong with you? Ducky? Ducky where the hell are you?

“Bunny? Can you get away from my fiancée, like now!”

Ducky you’re here! Thank God! Please get him away from me!

“Fiancée? Wow my little girl is all grown up indeed, she’s getting married man!”

“Wha-Bun do you know this man?”

“Did they change her name when she was adopted?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m her dad”

Bucky stood straighter at the man’s words. Placing his body in front of hers as a shield he looked back at the store hoping Steve or Sam would see and come out, he needed to get his Bunny way from the monster solely responsible for the pain and suffering she went through.

“Get away from her” Bucky voice dropped low.

“She’s my daughter”

“No she isn’t, don’t ever come near her ever again.”

“Why what are you going to do? Bet I can still control the little cunt. Y/n get here!”

It was a good job that Bucky had been standing in front of her as her foot moved on its own accord.

“Don’t. Don’t call her that”

Sam looked outside pulling on Steve’s arm when he noticed the way Bucky was standing in front of Y/n, and the way she was trying to make herself look smaller behind her fiancés back.

Jogging across the road, Steve slapped his hand on a cars bonnet when the driver nearly ran him and Sam over. “Buck what’s going on?”

“Sam take Bunny down the street. Now”

“Okay-okay. Sunshine come with me sweet girl” coaxing her hands away from Bucky’s jacket as she gripped on for dear life. “Come on Sunny, I got you”

Sam wrapped his strong arms around her shielding her from the prying eyes of strangers he led her down the street, already knowing where to take her. He heard Bucky tell Steve to ring Howard. Sucking in a breath and pulling his best friend, his Sunshine closer to him when he heard Bucky saying who the man was.

Fifty-four minutes later – Sam timed it – the bell ringing chimming over the door signalled someone had entered. He sat them both in the far corner, he watched as she sat on the floor in the corner as she stroked the large black and white cat in her arms.

“Bun?”

“Over here Buck” Sam answered. That’s when he saw Bucky, Steve, Howard, George and Tony. Each of them having blood on their clothes.

“Bunny, baby-it’s me Ducky” Bucky had to tell her when she flinched when he touched her knees.

“D-Ducky?” hearing her sound so small broke their hearts, wanting to go back and beat the prick up even more.

“It’s me baby, who’ve you got today?” he asked referring to the cat in her arms. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/n to come to the cat café on Main Street, sometimes when things got too much for her she would go there spending hours just playing with the cats, sometimes she even helped out the staff if they were busy.

“Mr Nibbles” great name for a cat that nibbled on anything and everything. Who was currently nibbling on her jumper.

“How are you feeling Bun?”

“Stupid”

“Why do you feel stupid baby?”

“I always thought that if I ever saw him again I would call him all the names under the sun, you know? Or at least hurt him but no I just stood there like a frigging idiot not knowing what to frigging say because I’m frigging stupid!”

“Bun you’re not stupid so don’t ever call yourself that ever again. You wasn’t expecting him to appear baby, it’s not your fault-“

“I froze Bucky! I frigging froze an-an-and I didn’t know what to do. I-I-I-“

“Y/n breath-“

Shaking her head, she couldn’t, she needed him to know why she froze. She needed to explain. She couldn’t let him think she was weak. “I recognised his voice straight away, of course I did it haunts my nightmares. I turned around Bucky an-and I wanted to tell him how much I frigging hate him, how much I wished it was him that died and not my mama. I wanted him to know that no matter h-how much he thought he won he didn’t because he didn’t, did he Bucky? No-no-no-no he didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t”

Not being able to stomach seeing his daughter struggle and stumble over words anymore Howard pushed Bucky out of the way, knocking Mr Nibbles off his daughters lap and pulled her into his arms.

“You’re right angel he didn’t win, he never will baby and I promise you that right now” he spoke with determination to make her understand that she had not only won by living a life surrounded by so many people who loved and adored her. Howard knew that everyone Y/n had around her all thanked whoever had brought her to them, because he did. Every night. Y/n was the light that brightened their lives. The sweetest, kindest, warmest souls out there and they were lucky to call her daughter, sister, fiancée, friend – hell even acquaintance. No matter what she saw the good in people, always happy to help family, friends and strangers.

But not only did she win she also survived. She survived the abuse she suffered, the orphanage, the bullying, the attack done by Brock. She proved the doctors wrong when they told Winnie and George that she wasn’t going to survive the attack from that bastard, by opening her eyes. She survived when she stood in the witness box of the court room and she told a room full of strangers what not only her but her mama had gone through.

Howard Stark was proud to call her his daughter.

Bucky had the wedding date pushed back once again, on the account of Y/n had been too scared to leave their home.

Months passed and Bucky was notified that Y/n’s biological father had been found in a ditch, dead. Nobody knew what or who did it, not like it mattered.

The fourth and final setback was Maria’s cancer diagnosis.

One night when Bucky and Y/n were asleep in bed the phone ringing woke both of them up, Bucky answered groggily sitting up straight away when he heard Tony’s voice on the other side sounding like he had been crying.

“Buck?”

“Baby w-we need to go, come on get dressed”

“What is it? What’s gone off?”

“Bun…it’s your mom. Baby she’s in hospital-” Though she could see his lips moving she just couldn’t hear the words he was speaking.

Getting out of the bed and rushing to her side of the wardrobe she put on whatever clothes she grabbed first. Practically flying down the stairs she rushed out of the house. Bucky following behind closely, trying to get her to slow down but it was no use.

Arriving at the hospital she instantly found Tony, running straight up to him she asked what had happened.

“Dad found her in the kitchen coughing up blood. Y/n/n I-I don’t know much more, Albert – Howard’s brother - rang me telling me to get here as soon as I could.”

“B-but she’s okay right? She will be won’t she Tone? Tony?”

“I-I don’t know Y/n, I don’t know”

By the time Bucky had gotten to them he saw brother and sister holding on to each other crying.

After multiple blood tests the doctor sat the family down the next day as Bucky waited in the waiting room with George and Winnie. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this but the results came back and it is stage four cancer. Lung cancer can be treated with surgery however the mass is too big for us to go down that route, we can also slow it down with the help of chemotherapy but sadly it will not cure it-“

“H-how long do I have left?” Maria interrupted, her hand gripping Howards.

“I can’t say for certain, it varies with everyone-“

“Can you give me a rough estimate? I’m sorry that I keep interrupting you”

“Don’t apologies, I understand. With treatment between seven to sixteen months, maybe even longer. Without treatment a few weeks to a few months” the doctor said regretfully.

“Months. Okay. Okay. That’s okay. When do I start treatment?”

“We can start the process next week”

“Okay, I’ll do it. My daughter is getting married soon a-and I want to see her walk down the aisle, you see” Maria smiled as if she hadn’t just found out that she’s dying.

The doctor smiled too “I’ll make sure that you see that happen”

Truthfully Howard, Tony and Y/n didn’t hear the rest of the conversation – their ears going fuzzy when the doctor said stage four cancer. Only snapping out of it when the door closed behind the doctor, leaving the family to come to terms with the results.

Telling Bucky and his parents, Winnie burst out crying at hearing her oldest friend was going to die. George trying to comfort his wife and best friend. Bucky took Y/n’s hand and took her outside for fresh air.

“It’s not fair Ducky, it’s not fair” she cried “It must be a mistake, it has to be. Yes they made a mistake!”

Even though he knew it was unlikely, he agreed with her. “It’s not fair baby, I know. Maybe they got it wron-“

“There’s no maybe Bucky. They got it wrong! My momma isn’t dying, she isn’t!”

“I know Bunny I know” he didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there and held his fiancée tight in his arms as she soaked his shirt through with her tears.

When Maria heard that Y/n wanted to push the date back just until things had settled down, she was against it at first she tried to argue with her daughter but ultimately got cut off with a coughing fit.

Now six months after her momma’s diagnosis Y/n was standing in the hotel room in front of the ceiling to floor mirror in her wedding dress. Wanda was behind her fixing the back of the dress and her hair at the same time. Nat was taking photos of everyone. Maria sat in the wheelchair she had been using for the past few months, Winnie sat next to her holding her friends hand. Both mothers crying at the image of Y/n in her wedding dress and at the fact that their babies were marrying each other, finally.

On the other side of the city Bucky was doing the same. Standing in front of ceiling to floor mirror in a hotel, Steve helping him fix his tie. Sam taking photos of them all. George and Howard sitting on the bed next to each other drinking whiskey. Both fathers feeling an overwhelming sense of pride at seeing Bucky standing there in his suit, knowing that in just in two hours that he will be marrying the love of his life.

Bride and groom to be both excited and nervous at the knowledge that they’ll be joined as one in two hours.

It was time to leave for the church when Nat stopped Y/n. “Bucky told me to give you this when we was on our way” handing over an envelope Nat gave her best friend a kiss on her cheek before helping Wanda with helping Maria into the car.

Finally seated in the car she opens the envelope containing a photo. At first she was confused as it was just a topless photo of Bucky until she turned the photo around.

She burst out laughing.

‘This is a reminder of what I looked like before we got married.’

“What is it?” Maria asked chuckling.

Showing her momma the photo and telling her to turn it over Maria too started to laugh, which made everyone else intrigued, one by one everyone started to laugh.

Bucky sure knew how to make her nerves settle even when they were apart.

When Steve saw Y/n in her dress he knew Bucky was going to cry. It was going to be the easiest fifty bucks he was going to win. Yes he and Sam made a bet on whether Bucky would cry or not. The bridemaids and groomsmen were in places, Nat and Steve, Wanda and Sam, Rebecca and Tony. Pepper was to help Morgan as she was the flower girl. Winnie had pushed Maria down already and were both waiting for the music to play along with everyone else.

The music had begun and everything was going perfect just like they had practiced but as Y/n put one foot out she just couldn’t move.

“Angel…”

“Dad-dad-I-something’s wrong”

“Nothing’s wrong sweetie, come on James is waiting for you angel”

“No-no it feels wrong. I can’t-“

Bucky looked at Steve, then his dad they both saw the pure fear in his blue eyes. George nodded to his son and smiled reassuringly before making his way out to see what was going on.

“Hey what’s wrong?” he asked seeing father and daughter standing there, Howard shook his head.

“I want you to walk me down the aisle as well George. Please.”

Oh how his heart leapt in his chest.

“Ar-are you sure darling?”

“Yes, it’s only right. That’s if that’s okay with both of you?”

“Of course” Howard and George spoke at the same time.

The music started again and everyone’s attention turned to the double doors as the three stepped over the threshold. Friends and family smiling as Howard, Y/n and George walked by, some of them muttering about how beautiful she looked.

Bucky stood there with tears streaming down his face at seeing his Bunny. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes when they saw Steve smiling and Sam shaking his head, knowing they had put a bet on their friends reaction.

Reaching him Y/n smiled softly at Bucky, giving both Howard and George a kiss on their cheeks she took Bucky’s waiting hand.

“I thought you ran away” Bucky whispered.

“No never, just wanted your dad to give me away as well”

As the pastor greeted everyone and began the ceremony Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from Y/n, nor could she with him.

“James you may read your vows”

“My beautiful Bunny, I love you more today than I did yesterday and I’ll love you more tomorrow than I did today. For as long as I am alive I promise to not only to keep loving you in the purest form but I promise that I will never let you ever second guess my love, loyalty and devotion for you. You are my soul mate, my better half, my Bunny. I promise in front of everyone here to cherish you, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall tear us apart”

Reaching out to wipe the tears that had fallen on her cheeks, the pastor waited for Bucky to move backwards before telling Y/n that it was her turn to read her vows.

“My beautiful Ducky-“ she started knowing he always blushed when she called him beautiful or pretty. “I have loved you since I knew the real meaning of it. When I look at you all I see is my future, our future. Like I told you on our first date its always been you. You’ve always been my beacon, my happiness. You have saved me so many times I don’t think you realise how many. I will always love you more and more as our days go by and that’s my promise to you. I promise in front of everyone here to cherish you, to honour and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall tear us apart”

It was now her turn to wipe the tears that fell from his bright blue eyes.

“Rings please” Nat and Steve stepped forward handing the rings over “James repeat after me- With this ring I, James, take you, Y/n, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

Repeating the words, making sure his voice was strong so she knew he was as serious as he has ever been, he slips the ring on to her finger.

“Y/n repeat after me- With this ring I, Y/n, take you, James, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

She too repeats the words, she puts the ring on his finger.

“Y/n and James, you have come here today before us and before God and have expressed your desire to become husband and wife. You have shown your love and affection by joining hands, and have made promises of faith and devotion, each to the other, and the receiving of the rings. Therefore, it is my privilege as a minister and by the authority given to me by the State of New York, I now pronounce that you are husband and wife. James, you may kiss your wife”

The whole church erupted in cheers as Bucky took Y/n’s face in both hands and kissed her passionately.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to introduce to you for the first time Mr and Mrs Barnes”

Their first dance as man and wife was to Unchained Melody, as they danced on the dance floor Y/n noticed the way her dad was looking at her mom, and how George looked at Winnie. The same way Bucky looked at her. Full of love. Nothing more, nothing less.

Y/n caught her momma’s eyes and nodded.

Winnie stood and helped Maria stand. Howard shooting straight up as her legs were lightly wobbly. Before he could ask what was going on Y/n spoke “Instead of doing the traditional father and daughter dance, I would like my father and mother to dance alongside me and Ducky, the same for Winnie and George”

As the music continued both sets of parents danced on either side of their children. Bucky couldn’t stop looking at his wife, his heart soaring at being able to call her that now, his trousers tenting too. Don’t judge him.

As the night draw close, Bucky and Y/n thanked everyone for coming and took their leave back to the hotel that Bucky had gotten dressed, celebrating on their own. As husband and wife.

The next morning they were off on their honeymoon. Greece.

Six weeks after being married and four weeks after coming back from their honeymoon Y/n sat on the toilet checking her watch every few minutes, the white pregnancy test seemed to have grown eyes as it was staring back at her. Bucky sat on the side of the bath, his knee bouncing, checking his own watch.

“Baby it’s time”

“You check I’m too scared”

A noise between a laugh and a sob made it way out of Bucky’s mouth as the positive sign was there.

“What? What does it say?”

“Positive. Bunny your pregnant!”

Standing up and taking the test from his hands not really believing him, Bucky got down on his knees his hands going straight to her stomach, lifting her shirt up he kissed the flat surface.

“Ducky…we-we’re going to be parents”

“We are my love”

The bathroom filled with laughter mixed with cries.

And then the phone rang.

Arriving at her parents’ home as fast as they could, Pepper greeted them. “In their bedroom” is all she said.

Running up the stairs Bucky tried to get her to slow down without blurting out the reason but it was no use. She needed to see her momma.

“Momma-I’m-I’m here”

“Oh my sweet girl” Maria croaked out, looking weak and so small in the double size bed. Her hair long gone, skin wrapping it’s self tightly around her skeleton. Though she didn’t look like herself but a shell of what she once was, Y/n thought her momma was still as beautiful as she was the day they had first met. “I’m so pr-proud of you, y-you know that don’t you?”

“I know m-momma”

“Oh b-baby plea-please don’t cry, I’m always go-going to be with you. Always.” Taking her daughters hand in her frail one Maria knew it wasn’t long until she left her husband and children behind to head up to the pearly white gates in the sky.

With her family around her, she was happy. Her eyes scanned the room, her husband on her right holding her hand, her only son who she was so unbelievably proud of everything he achieved in his life sitting on the chair close to his father, Pepper who she was proud to call her daughter-in-law standing behind Tony. George standing against the wall, the man gave her the life she had from the moment he introduced her to Howard. Winnie-her dearest and longest friend tucked in George’s side. Bucky who she help deliver when he decided that he had been in the womb for long enough, the one she was proud to call her son-in-law even in the short period that he had been married to her daughter, standing by his parents.

And her pride and joy, Y/n. Though she wasn’t biologically hers yet she never treated her any different to Tony, no never. Maria’s love for her daughter was pure and real, she always wanted a daughter and she knew she could leave this world happily knowing she had the sweetest, kindest people to call her daughter.

“Momma, I ne-need to tell you something”

“Wha-what is it sweetie?” Y/n leaned in so she could whisper to her the news. That she was going to be a grandma again.

“Oh swe-sweetie th-that is amazing” gesturing for Y/n to come closer so she could whisper in her ears. “Make sure they know that I love them e-even t-though I wo-won’t meet them”

“I w-w-will momma. Promise”

Thirty minutes later hand in hand with her husband and daughter, surrounded by her loved ones Maria closed her eyes and took her last breath with the only regret being that she wasn’t strong enough to meet her unborn grandbaby.

Two weeks later it was time to say goodbye properly by burying Maria, Howard couldn’t find it in himself to stand long enough to do the eulogy. Tony couldn’t find the words to do it so Y/n told them that if it was okay with them she would.

Now standing there in a church packed full of family, friends and strangers she started to regret saying she would do it. But she couldn’t fail her momma, not today.

“As many as you know I’m- I was adopted when I turned eight by my parents. I was brought into their home, their lives, I was accepted and loved by them. I never once felt out of place growing up or felt alone, I never felt like I was different because they always made sure I knew I was truly loved. My momma was always there for me when I needed her, she was the best person to go to for help and advice. She was the best mom ever and I was truly blessed to have her as mine. There’s no doubt in my mind that my momma will be with my mama and be talking her ear off” she stops as everyone chuckles. “Maria Stark was the one of the best women I have ever met, she didn’t care about your past, whether you was rich or poor, as long as you was kind-a good person she was happy to talk to you. She helped anyone who needed to be helped. She saw good in those damaged and I’m the perfect example of that.”

“My momma wouldn’t have wanted people to cry at her funeral so please don’t, dry your tears and smile. Smile at the memories of her, smile at remembering how she was, smile when your think of the name Maria Stark and all the good that comes with the name. Maria Stark was an incredible, strong, beautiful woman, please don’t ever forget her. On behalf of my father and brother I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today to celebrate the life of a wife, mother and friend, thank you”

Y/n steps down from the podium, her hands shook as she moved towards Bucky who stood up and took her hand in his. “I’m so proud of you baby” he whispered into her ear.

As her momma was placed into her final resting place and the flowers started to overflow Y/n stood back and let everyone say their final goodbyes first. As everyone moved away and started to go back to their cars all that was left was Howard, Tony, Bucky’s parents, Bucky and Y/n.

Y/n looked to her right, her breath hitching caused Bucky too look over at her. Following with his eyes at what she was staring at he released a stuttering breath.

Howard caught onto what Y/n had saw, putting his rose on top on the pile of flowers and saying his goodbyes to his wife, his only love, he moved over to his daughter. Kissing her forehead, he squeezed his eyes shut before whispering.

“Your momma wanted to be buried next to the woman who gave her, her daughter”

A/N: I wrote Maria’s death whilst listening to For Whom The Bell Tolls by Bee Gees…and I had to stop three times because I was ugly crying.

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01 @gaya-is-weird-af

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Text

Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

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A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

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Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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adoregojo · 9 months

Text

my place!

a/o: reader and megumi have mother-son time until someone stepped in.

he couldn't sleep.

as his sister sleeps peacefully besides him he kept staring at the ceiling hoping at some point sleep will catch him. well that went on for an almost an hour nothing successful.

that when he decided to get up as quite as possible, avoiding to wake up tsumiki on the other side, closing the door behind him. as he walked a figure of a woman ahead of him cleaning the table of the kitchen and humming a random song, she didn't seem to notice megumi for a while.

he would never admit it but he liked her a lot, ever since she stepped in both his live and tsumiki has been a lot better. he finally got someone else to help with the homework, someone carry the house of little tsumiki shoulders so that she can focus more on her studies. he got more better at school and with the delicious meals welcoming them every day. their live had never been better.

but there's only problem. her lover was the most annoying unreasonable creature to be made. satoru gojo, that man can't cook to save his live, and he mix the white laundry with the color one, and doesn't bother to get any cleaning done. and he only walks them out of school just because his dear girlfriend asked him to.

he sometimes wonders what the hell did she see in him.

as she noticed his small form she straight up walked to him, "megumi, are you okay? did you have a nightmare or something?" asking as she kneeled down to meet his eyes, did he also mention she was so kind that he sometimes gets so overwhelmed with it.

"no, just couldn't sleep." he say and she sighs with relief.

"i was wondering if i could stay up with you." she seemed hesitant for a moment but thinking about it, it wasn't a school night and she wasn't sleeping until satrou get back. maybe it's better than staying up alone all night, a little time with him wouldn't hurt.

she's the first to sat with patting the space beside her for him to sit, but instead he jumped on her lap making himself comfortable, she was surprised for a second then warped her arms around him gently.

he didn't know why he sat on her lap he just did it, and he felt an off warm thing in his chest not the feeling that make him want to throw up but the other one that brought him a small unnoticeable smile. they sat there watching a tv cartoon that little megumi enjoyed.

until the door slammed so hard that caused him to jump a little and hold tight on the arms around him, the tall white haired man stands there for a while he looked exhausted, his usual annoying smile was nowhere to be found rather a dead expression on his face, staring at nothing he closed the door and walked up to them.

"can't you knock? you could've waked up tsumiki." megumi asked annoyed with gojo's sudden behavior more annoyed that he didn't knowledge megumi's comment, but a hand gently held his shoulder and he turned to face her.

"megumi, do you mind getting a cup of water?" he hesitated for a moment, but eventually listened and got down from her warmth, mumbling how he only did it because she asked on his way.

she turned to satoru's face whose eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, she moved aside for him to sit but instead he thrown himself on the whole couch taking all space and his head resting on her lap, his breathing normal now and muscles are resting.

she took off his sunglasses putting on the table. her hand gently brushed his hair then moved touching his face, his palm resting on her hand and his eyes are half closed like he was ready to fall asleep any moment.

"hard day?"

"you have no idea." his voice was rusty, must been a hard on.

"hey!, that's my place." the little boy stepped angrily threatening to spell the water.

"get lost brat."

"i was here first." megumi objected, trying te grab gojo, but damn was he heavy.

"my girl, my place. go sit on the other couch."

the little boy huffed angrily then looked at satour's beloved for help but she only gave him a 'sorry' smile.

he stormed off angrily to sit on the other couch, he's lucky that he was on her save arms because megumi would have smashed his head with the glass of water.

"hold up, isn't that past your bedtime?"

"shut up."

#gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk season 2 #megumi fushiguro #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo satoru

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aemondsbabe · 5 months

Text

Two Souls, Entwined

summary: dreams & dirty talk || helaena has been plagued with visions; things between her and her lady in waiting finally reach a boiling point

pairing: helaena targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, mutual pining, angst but happy ending, dry humping, breast/nipple play, dirty talk but make it poetic and loving, slight aegon slander i broke my own heart, i love helaena sm, there needs to be more content for her i love her, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 4.1k

a/n: happy day ten of 12 days of smuff!! i'm actually very excited/proud of this one, it got a lot more personal than i was expecting! really feeding that scared bi girl i was in middle school idk. i hope y'all enjoy it!!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @merrypembertons

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Helaena sighs when she opens her eyes and blinks, disoriented by the early morning light, her head still clouded with sleep.

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers to the emptiness of her chambers, the cryptic phrase a familiar one now as it had been making its home in her head for the past few weeks.

Sitting up with a groan, she pauses at the edge of her bed, staring blankly ahead as the cloudy figures from her dream seem to swirl around her still. She was growing frustrated with the shadowy shapes, as much as she hated to admit it – she did not often enjoy her dreams, they often brought news of unpleasant tidings, secrets that she alone seemed expected to bear, but for the past few weeks her dreams had been… pleasant. Joyous, in fact. Yet they seemed much further away than the others, only revealing small slivers of information to her night after night.

She smiles softly as she gives one last glance out the window before padding over to the vanity in her chambers, determined to brush out her hair before the maids have the chance, they were always too rushed and hurried. Her mind drifts back to her dream as she runs a comb through her fair hair; lately, this mysterious dream seemed to be the only thing she could focus on for very long.

The figure in it seemed so familiar, moving around her as if it was an old friend, someone safe. She sighed again as she thought, blushing despite herself as she recalled her latest vision, remembering how the shadow had moved about her, as if in a courting dance, before it leaned in closely, though if it were for a kiss or to whisper a secret she didn’t know.

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” She repeats, as if the repeating will somehow reveal more.

It puzzles her greatly, the feelings of safety mixed with distinct romantic desire, a deep wanting from somewhere within her. There aren’t many people she even feels safe around, and even less so those she’d ever felt romantic longing for, and a much shorter list followed of people who had ever felt romantic longing for her. She feels secure around her mother, of course, and grandsire and her precious younger brothers, but she cannot help but wrinkle her nose with disgust at the thought of romantic intent with any of them.

She blinks, setting her hairbrush down and biting her lip as she thinks. I feel safe with Aegon, she ponders, brows knitting together, He’s never given me a reason to not feel safe but… She sighs, not bothering to finish the thought. She was well aware her marriage was one of politics, not of love. She remembers there had been whispers of many suitors when she’d finally come of age; everyone from Aegon and Aemond to her half-sister’s bastard sons had been considered, and though Helaena appreciated some more than others… she didn’t desire any of them.

Before she can help herself, her blue eyes flit over her own curves as she gazes at herself in the mirror, wishing, as she had so many times before, that she could reach out and feel her own reflection – feel a mirrored twin with similar soft skin and supple flesh. She wishes that soft, delicate fingers could touch her as well; she had grown tired of rough, battle worn touches long ago.

Someone I feel safe with and feel romantic longing for, she thinks again, blinking rapidly as a familiar face immediately springs to mind yet again, just as it had every time she’d pondered this mystery for the last few weeks, only growing more frustrated. It can’t be, she’d decided that long ago, long before this vision began.

But...

The Gods only ever seemed to show her visions that were assured, that would come to fruition, one way or another. Maybe… maybe that meant that y–

No, she thought, locking eyes with her reflection, Don’t be ridiculous.

She smiles as she hears her chamber doors opening, at the same time they do every morning, and turns around on the ornate, cushioned chair at her vanity, her eyes locking with your familiar ones as you waltz it.

“Good morning, Princess,” her heart beats a mite faster at the sound of your voice, at the bright smile that graces your lips as you stride to her, “I trust you slept well?”

“Good morning, sweet friend,” she greets you brightly, standing and pulling you into a hug as she did every day, “I did, quite peacefully, actually. And you?” She asked, trying to ignore the small voice that longed to hold you more closely, as she did everyday.

“I did as well,” your hand lingers in hers for a moment as she steps away, sitting back at her vanity as the maids arrive, instantly fluttering around the two of you like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, “After we break fast, would you like to come to the gardens with me?”

Helaena merely nods, though inside she buzzes, her heart fluttering like a bird’s wings.

I would follow you into the Seven Hells, she longs to say.

You wake with a small start, your hand instantly flying to your lips. You could swear they still tingle for a second from when she’d kissed you, just before you’d woken up. Blushing, you glance around your chambers, as if there would be anyone else there, and finding them empty leaves you both relieved and disappointed all at once.

Sighing, you slide off of your plush bed and walk over to your small vanity and use the small wash basin to splash water on your face. A small thrill shoots up your spine as you glance over your shoulder in the mirror, knowing from the position of the light filtering through your windows that it’s nearly time to go find your friend.

Friend.

It’s a funny word, you think, not one you would have imagined assigning to the princess all the many years ago when you’d arrived at King’s Landing, young and eager to be a lady in waiting for Helaena. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your lips each time you think of her, your quiet, captivating princess. You meet your own gaze in the mirror and frown, looking at yourself in the way a disappointed parent would look at a child.

Not yours, you chide, like repeating it over and over would make it hurt any less, Not yours, not yours, not yours.

Sighing yet again, you rise from your spot at the vanity and quickly grab your robes, eager to escape your own thoughts.

“This one is the iphiclides podalirius,” Helaena says, her voice soft as she marvels at the delicate butterfly perched on the back of her hand, “More commonly called the scarce swallowtail, I believe. It’s truly remarkable, normally they don’t travel this far north, though I’m told they’re a common sight in the gardens of Sunspear.”

“Then we are quite lucky to see it,” you smile, setting your embroidery hoop on the bench beside you as you study the yellow and black striped insect, though your eyes seem to drift to the princess on their own; you can’t help but smile as you see the way her beautiful sapphire eyes light up as she examines the small creature, “It’s very beautiful.”

Like you, you think, swallowing down the words.

“Would you like to hold her?” Helaena asks, looking at you hopefully.

As always, you nod, aware that you were the only one who seemed to entertain her fascination with insects and plants. Selfishly, you liked that.

Slowly and carefully, Helaena guides the butterfly onto the back of your hand; the two of you sitting close together, close enough for your shoulders to press together. A giggle leaves you at the feel of the insect's feet on your skin, so small and light, like tiny, faint kisses.

“Perhaps she was drawn to the hydrangeas,” the princess muses, “Those are new this year, though I suppose any of the other very colorful plants would spark her fancy as well, like the lilac or poppies or…”

It takes you a second to notice that she’s gone quiet next to you and you finally tear your gaze away from the butterfly, frowning slightly when you see the look on her face, her blue eyes hazy and unfocused as they flit back and forth like she’s watching figures you cannot see.

“Princess?” You ask softly, reaching out to take her hand, only halfway aware of the butterfly fluttering away, “Helaena?” You ask again, a bit louder, gripping her hand tighter.

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers, so faintly that the words scarcely leave her lips. Your frown only deepens, your eyebrows knitting together as you shake your head, trying to make sense of her words.

“What?” You ask softly, used to hearing her mutter odd phrases but seeing her in a trance was something altogether different, “Helaena? Should I go fetch the maester?” You don’t know why you ask her, not expecting a response.

The figure danced in front of her again, clouded in darkness, though instead of feeling cold and empty like the dark so often did to her, these shadows hugged Helaena like a blanket.

She blinked, and suddenly everything changed, becoming clear as if she’d blinked away tears. The clarity was startling for a second as the edges of the figure sharpened before her, still leaning toward her as if it meant to whisper an amorous secret.

Finally, her eyes focused and in that moment, she felt as if she could be knocked over by the air current made from the flittery wings of a butterfly.

You.

It was you, just as she’d always suspected, standing before her as if you’d always been there.

Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe. The phrase repeats in her mind like a mantra as she stares at you, marveling at the way you stare at her.

Like she’s precious, something to be fawned over. Something to be… loved?

Her heart hammers wildly in her chest as she reaches out, her fingers finally skimming over your cheek.

She could cry, perhaps she is crying, she doesn’t know. The only thing she’s sure of is that this feels so right, like a puzzle piece within her has finally shifted and slotted into place.

Just as it crosses her mind to lean in and kiss you, the vision falls away, words echoing in her mind as the gardens come back into focus.

Not a friend.

Yet...

Not a foe.

“Helaena, please!” You beg, urgency coating your voice as you lean in closer, closer than you’d ever dared before, praying to see some spark of recognition in the princess’s eyes.

Suddenly, she seems to come back to herself, gasping as you jump back away from her, startled.

“Oh!” She breathes, blinking a couple times before her blue eyes finally fix themselves on you, “I’m so sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

You shake your head quickly, moving back toward her and taking her hands in yours once more, your heart twisting as you notice them trembling slightly. “There’s no need to apologize, I’m just happy you’re alright.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Helaena staring at you in a way that makes your cheeks heat up, as if she’s seeing you for the first time, before she seems to catch herself and look away, much to your disappointment.

“Was that one of your dreams?” You ask softly, looking down to where her hand rests within yours.

“Yes.” She says simply, her eyes locked on the way your fingers overlap hers as she desperately tries to ignore the voice in her head telling her to enterwine them.

“What did you see?” You ask, catching her gaze again. There’s a fire in her eyes now that makes you shiver.

She’s quiet for a moment, neither of you so much as breathing as you stare at each other – the princess looking at you so intently you wonder if she’s trying to hear your thoughts. You pray she can’t.

“Nothing of importance,” she says finally, pulling her hands away and standing from the bench suddenly, “They’re just shapes, really. Fuzzy things.”

“Alright,” you smile as you stand with her, picking up your embroidery hoop from where it had been abandoned at your side, “If you ever wish to discuss them, I would be more than happy to listen.” You tell her, desperately wanting to hold on to whatever moment you had just shared with her.

She merely nods with a small, soft smile and holds her arm out for you to take, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for supper.”

The fire warming your skin from the hearth in Helaena’s chambers normally felt cozy and inviting, but tonight the heat of it was stifling as the two of you sit in silence. Each of you is presumably working on an embroidery piece, although the atmosphere feels more like that of a stalemate with each passing moment.

You can feel her looking at you, sneaking glances every minute or so. You imagine she can probably feel the same, perhaps that’s why she keeps looking your way, because you can’t seem to keep your eyes off her either.

Finally, the tension in the room seems to boil over and you can’t take it anymore; your fingers dig into the wood of your embroidery hoop as you gather the courage to speak.

“Have I… Are you cross with me?”

“Pardon?” The princess asks, jumping a bit before laying her hoop at her side, her eyes wide as she looks at you unabashedly now.

“You, well, you keep looking at me. I just, I’m hoping I haven’t offended you in some way.” You chance a glance at Helaena and quickly do a double take, heart clenching in your chest when you see that she looks as if she’s about to cry.

“You haven’t,” she breathes, shaking her head emphatically, locks of pale hair cascading down her shoulders as she does, “I simply… I was considering the dreams I’ve been having, the one I had earlier today.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“You’ve been in them!” She says suddenly, loudly, like she has to force out the words.

“What?” You blink.

She sighs heavily and swallows, wringing her hands on her lap. “You were in them. You have been for weeks.”

You wonder if the princess can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you blink, silently praying to whichever of the Gods may be listening that Helaena’s dreams and your dreams were not somehow intertwined. In the back of your mind, you knew your pleas were useless.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish that’s been plucked from the water before you finally find your voice, “What… what am I doing in them?” Your whole body buzzes, fearing the answer and desperately needing it all at once.

The princess hesitates, you want to scream as you can all but see her weighing her options in her mind before she finally, finally speaks.

“Courting me, kissing me.”

A small withering, wounded noise passes your lips at her words. You feel dizzy, the room spinning as you feel as though the entire world is crashing down around you while at the same time, it’s as if a mountain’s worth of weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

“And your visions… they only show things already fated to occur?” You feel frozen as you ask, not a muscle in your body moving. You know the answer even as the question leaves your lips, but you need to hear her say it.

Helaena sighs and shakes her head, a frown cutting across her pretty face, “That’s why it’s frustrating,” she bites, spitting the words like the mere act of explaining is painful, “This one cannot come to pass, I do not understand why I see it…”

She keeps speaking, talking through her annoyance, but the sound of your own blood pumping wildly through your veins blocks out her words.

No, your head pounds as you silently scream, No, no, no! Please, just let me explain, give me a chance, I’ll do any—

A loud sob cuts through your thoughts; the world seems to wrench its way back to you as you look at the princess, eyes widening when you see the tears flowing down her flushed cheeks.

“You could never truly wish to…” She says slowly, brokenly, words fading like she can’t even bear to say them.

“I do.” The words feel punched from your chest like you’re holding your heart out to the open air.

Helaena’s ocean eyes cut to yours as her breath hitches, the both of you not daring to move a muscle as you sit together on the small sofa in her chambers; the fire crackling in the hearth is the only indication that time has not ceased to exist.

You aren’t sure who moves first, maybe the Gods have threaded the two of you together so tightly that you move as one, you can’t be sure.

But her lips are on yours.

And her hands cup your cheeks as yours scramble to fit around her waist, four hands poised on a knife’s edge.

You sigh against each other, pulled together like a knot in a thread, and you gasp as you find yourselves pressed together, chest to chest.

Finally, you part for air, panting together as you stare, foreheads pressed together.

“Princess—“

“You love me?” She asks, swiping a thumb over your cheek; it’s only then you realize you’re crying.

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer to you, “And you?”

“Yes,” she echos, her thighs slotting over one of yours as she climbs atop your lap, “You are my heart beating out of my body.”

Her words zap through you and your heart twists in your chest as your hands clamber against her, your lips press against hers again urgently. Twin moans, muffled into each other's mouths, sound between you as your hands cup her rear, pressing her more urgently against you.

“You are beautiful,” you sigh, hands grabbing at her plush curves through the silk fabric of her skirts, “You’re so soft and —“

“Warm,” she breathes, moaning into the column of your neck as her lips move against your skin, “You’re so warm, my love, like the sun.”

My love. The pet name sends a shiver down your spine as the two of you move together, pressing kisses against whatever patches of skin you can find, rocking together instinctually. The firmness of her thigh presses deliciously against your center, your skirts rucked up enough to bare your smallclothes, which press welty against your core.

You gasp, pressing a kiss to the princess’s collarbone as her hips move tantalizingly on your thigh, the warmth between her legs nearly suffocating as you whimper and sign against each other’s soft skin.

“I have always loved you,” you confess, nearly coming undone as she begins tugging at the ties at the bosom of your gown, her hands shaking as she pulls them loose, “Always, from the first moment I saw you.”

She makes a noise between a moan and sob as she finally tugs your bodice loose, and you whimper as her lithe fingers ghost over your breasts, causing your back to arch into her touch. “I’ve always loved you too,” she sighs as her soft hands cup your chest, kneading the flesh in her palms, “I always wanted to court you, marry you, I,” her voice breaks off in a faint, high-pitched whine as you finally manage to unbutton the bodice of her gown, she savors the feel of your lips and hands against her breasts for a moment more before continuing, “Gods, I wished to bed you, I’ve always longed to know what you would feel like, how sweet you’d taste.”

Her confessions nearly make you weep as you kiss over the fat of her breasts, keening into her supple skin as she delicately pinches at your nipples, “I have only ever thought of you, my sweet princess,” your chest heaves as you speak, your words muffled as you lick over her nipple, “When I sleep, when I wake, when I–” The words stick in your throat as you freeze, peering up at her through your lashes, somehow still impossibly afraid of going too far, or too fast, or too anything.

“When you what?” She asks, her voice so soft and sweet as she stares down at you, her fingers digging into your breast and side as her sapphire eyes flit between yours, “Tell me, my love, when you what?” She urges, her hips moving somehow more desperately against yours, only serving to fuel the fire slowly building within you.

“Gods, when I touch myself,” you whisper, shuddering as she lets out a breathy moan above you, “When I peak, sweet princess, I think only of you.” Your confession ends in a sharp gasp as she angles you backwards, anchoring you to her with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Her lips trail down your neck and collarbone before finally, she presses firm, fiery kisses to your breast, panting as she wraps her petal pink lips around your nipple and sucks, pressing her thigh more firmly against your center as she does.

“I think only of you too,” she breathes, blue eyes fluttering up to yours as your hands tangle in her pale locks, “Every time I touch myself, I dream of you,” she mumbles around your breast, her touch all but burning into you as she kisses across your chest before mouthing at the other side, “When my brother beds me, it is you I see, my precious lady.”

You practically sob as her admission sends you reeling, each cell in your body bursting like lightning from a stormcloud as you peak. You’re useless to do much else other than tremble in her hold as shivers travel in currents down your spine, your smallclothes no doubt ruined as your center clenches frantically at nothing, your pearl so taut and achy as it twitches against the princess’s thigh.

You don’t waste a second when your high subsides, moving frantically as you push Helaena back, slotting yourself perfectly atop her, pressing your thigh between her legs like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Your skirts fan out around your bodies, blanketing your forms in a soft sea of silk, your bare chests pressed tightly together as you rut against her, needing to see her awash with pleasure more than you need breath in your lungs.

“My love, my sweet princess,” you sigh into her mouth, your tongues swirling together as she all but cries beneath you, her hands digging possessively into your waist, “I am yours, my love, until the end of my days.” You swear, pressing your thigh tightly against her center, and your heart soars as she finally shatters in your grasp.

You watch, enraptured, as she peaks; mesmerized at the blush that blooms on her skin, at the way her blue eyes roll back as her eyes flutter closed, at how her breasts heave as she sucks in desperate breaths. The sounds she makes seem to pierce into your soul, each whimper and moan and cry ripping away parts of you until your heart is stripped bare, beating only for her.

The two of you lay in a heady silence for many moments, the only sounds being your soft, panting breaths as you each come down and the ever-present crackle sounding from the hearth.

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” Helaena whispers, her voice raspy as she speaks.

“Pardon?” You ask, pulling back from her embrace just enough to meet her gaze.

“That phrase,” she explains, her eyes glimmering in the firelight as a smile steadily blossoms on her pink lips, “I kept hearing it, in my dreams about you.”

You stay silent, tracing soft circles on her soft skin, leaving room for her to continue.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see.”

“Hm?”

You aren’t my friend, the Gods spoke truthfully,” she beams, radiating joy as she studies your face, “You’re my love.”

Her statement is simple, but it makes you smile all the same as you press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Yes,” you nod, pulling back to meet her eyes as you lay a hand over her heart, “Always.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

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maidragoste · 1 year

Text

You're doing the right thing

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra)

Summary: After an argument with your brother, you need someone to tell you that you are doing the right things and that your husband is there to support you.

It is part of the universe of the queen and her husbands but I think it can be read independently.

I MISSED WRITING AEMOND… I still feel like the ending was strange, sorry, I have to get used to writing it again 😓😓

Second one shot of the 1k followers special. Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

"I hate you!"

Aemond heard Viserys's shout and the door was flung open. The boy barely looked at him and continued walking, taking steps. The man watched until Viserys disappeared from his sight as the boy turned into another hallway. A part of Aemond wanted to go find his nephew, drag him to you, and force him to apologize. But he knew that would only make the situation worse.

The prince entered the chambers. His anger against your brother increased when he saw your slumped posture and your palms hiding your face. It wasn't the first time he saw you like this. You often found yourself in that position ever since Viserys had returned to court.

When that family from Lys showed up saying they had Rhaenyra Targaryen's youngest son with them, he and Aegon thought it was a hoax but realized it wasn't fake when they saw how you and Egg seemed to have gotten back together. life when they met the child. The melancholic Egg finally seemed to act like a child and he couldn't stop smiling while you couldn't stop hugging your brothers. Having Viserys back with you brought joy to your life. But also headaches.

"He doesn't mean it," your husband said rushing to your side.

"My mother should be taking care of this," you muttered to yourself.

You feel frustrated because it was your duty as an older sister to take care of Viserys. But you felt that you were fulfilling the role of mother. Your mother should be the one arguing with him and try to make him understand the situation. She should be the one enduring Viserys' anger and his yelling. You were sure that she would do the same as you because Viserys is a baby. He shouldn't be married at such a young age and the thought that he already consummated his marriage made you want to vomit.

"Please, tell me I'm not going crazy and that I'm not wrong," you asked, uncovering your face so you could see Aemond.

"Make me a place," he asked so you got up from the chair and let him sit down and then settle you on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and you felt a little better listening to your husband's heartbeat, whenever you were too anxious listening to his heartbeat calmed you down, and how he hugged you around the waist with one arm

“Of course, you're not crazy,” he said as he used his other hand to gently stroke your hair. “You're doing the right thing. He can't stay married to that girl. Breaking up the marriage was the best"

"I forced her to drink moon tea," you admitted sadly, remembering how you made the guards hold Larra Rogare down while you gave her the tea to drink. Your brother was a child and a child shouldn't be having a baby, he shouldn't be a father so you did what you had to do to prevent it. Despite that, you weren't proud of the way you handled the situation, you wished the girl would have taken the tea willingly.

“Again you did the right thing” he kissed your forehead “Viserys is only 12 years old. He can't be a father,” Aemond said, feeling uncomfortable remembering how young his sister was when Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were born. Obviously, Viserys wouldn't be the one to bear his children but the thought of the child having to take care of a baby was so strange. Viserys had many things to learn before fulfilling the role of being a father.

“What if I'm taking his happiness away from him?” you asked in a whisper. You were sure of your decision. You couldn't allow your brother's marriage to continue or to continue sharing a bed. You couldn't let that Lyx family take advantage of him. But you feared that by removing Larra Rogare from King's Landing you would bring unhappiness to your brother. You wanted to believe that eventually, he would get over it but you were afraid that he would end up just like Egg. You loved Egg with all your soul but he had hard days where you couldn't get him out of his bed, days when he seemed lost in himself and you had to fight to feed or clean him. You didn't know if you would be able to bear seeing your two little brothers like this.

"What do you mean?" he asked confused.

"He says that he loves her and that I'm taking her happiness away from him," you said putting aside the insults and nasty comments about you and your husbands that Viserys made in the discussion.

"He thinks he loves her because he was held captive with her family," Aemond said with a frown.

You remained silent, you had said the same words to Viserys and he replied that in case you were not in love with your husbands either because her family held you captive. But it was different. You had fallen in love with Aemond before the war, and he did not marry you just for power. You secretly got married without knowing that there would soon be a war. The Rogare took advantage of a child that no one was looking for because everyone believed him dead. Your situation with Aemond and Aegon was nothing like that. They didn't take advantage of you.

"I know. I told him"

“Listen to me, he will grow up and in time he will realize that you were right. Give him time ”Aemond promised, kissing you now on the cheek, managing to get a small smile out of you“ When he grows up and marries a girl his age who really loves him, he will thank you on his knees ”

"Viserys will never do that" you rolled your eyes in amusement at your husband's exaggeration. Aemond was not one to exaggerate. You knew he was just doing it in an attempt to amuse you and you were very appreciative of that. "He is too proud"

As soon as you finished saying those words, the door was flung open. You were instantly up from Aemond's lap as Egg and Viserys entered. You ran to them when you saw that Viserys's cheek was red, with the clear mark of a hand. Soon your hands were on Viserys's face, carefully lifting his chin for more blows.

"What happened?" you asked concerned.

Aemond already knew what happened, you were so aware of Viserys's injury that you didn't notice how Egg was looking at Viserys with a cold fury. It wasn't normal to see the boy angry and when he was generally it was because someone had disrespected you (which didn't happen often because you're the queen and only an idiot would dare insult you). Aemond stopped himself from smiling. There was a reason Egg was the best he liked out of your brothers.

"Viserys came to apologize," Aegon said seriously.

"Aegon!" you said horrified realizing that he was responsible for the mark on your other brother's face “Don't do that again. Whatever problems Viserys and I have will be resolved without the need for violent intervention,” you declared, scowling at Aegon.

"He was being an idiot to you and he needed to realize it," your brother answered, crossing his arms and looking at Viserys with a raised eyebrow. Still waiting for him to apologize to you.

"I'm sorry," Viserys murmured.

You sighed before catching them both in a hug. "I don't want this to happen again, don't fight over me," you asked as you stroked Aegon's hair.

Aemond watched feeling satisfied because no matter what happened he knew that Egg would always defend you and he could always count on him to make Viserys think again. Aemond just wanted to see you happy and your brothers were a big part of happiness along with your children.

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

Note

Could you do Frank x daughter of Bellona headcanons?

⋆⭒˚.⋆ frank zhang x daughter of bellona hcs

content: frank zhang x daughter of bellona hcs warning: probably language but i don't think so. i think i finally made a warning free post author's note: MY BOY FRANKIE POO FINALLY MY BOY HAS RETURNED TO ME

the son of war and the daughter of war are in loveeeeee

are you kidding me??? that's so cute???

wanna know what makes it cuter??? they're both just big softies, not an evil bone in their bodies

they met while training, being paired up by reyna

both were super awkward and kinda didn't want to do it but reyna would have their asses if they didn't

so, y/n managed to swipe his legs out and send him straight to the dirt below

"oh, jeez! i'm so, so sorry! here, let me help you," the girl instantly whined, rushing towards frank and pulling him back to his feet, worriedly looking him over for cuts or scratches.

"thank you. i'm good, i'm alright-"

"l/n! zhang! what's going on over here?" reyna barked as she marched up to them, y/n's eyes going wide as she let go of franks arm

"i was just helping him up-"

"would you help an enemey up? huh?" reyna taunted and y/n hung her head, adverting her eyes. reyna sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

"look, y/n, i'm just looking out for you."

"i know," y/n muttered back and reyna nodded, setting a soft hand on her half-sister's shoulder before walking away.

y/n's eyes followed reyna for a moment before turning back to frank, who blushed as the attention turned to him.

"wanna get ice cream with me? after training?" the girl offered, tilting her head with a soft smile

frank nodded his head instantly, trying to hide his growing smile at the prospects.

so they got ice cream, walking around new rome and just enjoying each other's company.

frank had shown off, turning into a beautiful bird for a few minutes before sitting beside the giggling girl once again.

"that's so cool!! i wish...i wish i could do something like that," the girl muttered, pushing around the melting ice cream with her spoon for a moment before looking back up at frank, who had all of his attention on her.

"i dunno. it's half blessing, half curse. kinda nice that i can, er, impress p-pretty girls with it," he replied, trying his best to be smooth.

evidently it worked based on her blush.

"you're cute, zhang."

"i try."

"you know, i really am my mother's daughter. i've led our camp through many victories and i'm very proud and honored by that but...to be like her makes me afraid. i don't want to be mean or rough," the daughter of bellona admitted, feeling candid with the son of mars, someone she thought could relate to the thought.

"tell me about it. the thing that killed my mom is the very thing that my father lives for," replied frank, both of the children of war's attention on the other.

there a pause before they both started to lean in, the ice cream abandoned and melting somewhere on the bench

"y/n! you're needed, i could use your brain for some strategies," reyna called, cutting straight through the moment.

both of the children of war flushed, quickly pulling away and trying to put their attention elsewhere.

"i should-

"yeah, totally i get it-"

"if you wanna hang out later just-"

"oh, yeah totally-"

"...cool," the girl finished, smiling brightly at him before reyna called out again.

"i'm coming!" called y/n back, moving to leave the bench.

she walked away for a moment before glancing over her shoulder at him

"i'll see you around, zhang."

after that day, they were never seen apart again.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #frank zhang #frank zhang x reader #reyna avila ramirez arellano

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bordysbae · 1 year

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Hi 18. "he's my best friends brother" with jack Hughes please!

“sometimes you need to shut up”

jack hughes x f!reader

okay ik i say this about literally every story, but i fr do not like this at all?? i feel like it’s very rushed and cheesy so i apologize ugh

wc: 1.7k

your mother and ellen went to high school together. they were always close but never considered themselves best friends, until college. they ended up at the same college, and everything took off from there. you and luke are the same age, and you’ve grown up with the hughes family.

you’ve always thought jack was attractive, but he was basically just the noah flynn to your elle evans. your best friends hot older brother who was totally off limits. he always treats you like a little sister, and you hate it. but either way, the hughes family has become a major part of your life, which is why you’re currently on luke’s couch, holding his hand as the new jersey devils are selecting next.

luke’s hand is squeezing yours so tightly that it’s hurting you a little bit, but you’d never tell him that. jack is sat on the other side of you and from his body language you can tell he’s nervous as well. of course he wants his younger brother to play on the same nhl team as him, and that’s exactly what he got. before you can even realize it, luke’s name is called, and you bolt to your feet. you move out of the way so that quinn and jack can hug like first, but you’re surprised when jack grabs your wrist and pulls you into their hug.

“you’re just as important to luke as we are, get in here y/n/n,” jack says to you, making you smile. after the hug you quickly scurry out of frame so that the boys can do their thing for the camera, and you watch as luke puts on a devils cap atop his curly brown hair. you smile at the sight of him and jack, and soon realize you’re staring at the older boys beaming smile. you immediately dart your eyes away from jack, and see your mother and ellen smirking at you. you roll your eyes at them, knowing that they’ve had a lingering suspicion since your sophomore year of highschool that you have feelings for jack.

you adjust your white dress acting as if you didn’t get caught staring, looking down to hide the embarrassment on your cheeks. after all of the tv media stuff, it’s finally time for personal photos. while the boys are getting their photos taken, you venture over to where the moms are standing. “oh ellen, you’ve raised the best boys. it’s amazing how all three of them are in the nhl, isn’t it?” you say. ellen places her hand on your shoulder and smiles at you.

“you know, you mean so much to them, right? and not just luke, jack too,” ellen teases, making your mouth fall agape slightly.

“oh ellen leave my daughter alone! she’ll admit her feelings eventually,” your own mother joins in.

“he’s my best friends brother! i do not have feelings for him!” you exclaim, trying to prove your point to both them and yourself. despite always pretending you don’t have feelings for him, you know you do.

suddenly an arm rests on top of your head, and you hear a males voice speak up behind you. “have feelings for who?” jack chuckles, as he still has his arm resting on top of your head. a lump forms in your throat and you quickly swallow it.

“no one jack, get outta here! we’re having a girl talk!” ellen tells her middle son.

“well luke told me to come, he wants to take pictures with a little someone over here,” he says, obviously meaning you. for some reason, your heart starts to flutter at his words and the direct attention he’s giving you. this is exactly why you have feelings for him, he treats you like you’re someone of importance to him, and it makes you feel good, maybe even happier.

jim then walks over and starts talking to the mothers about dinner plans, and that’s when jack whispers something in your ear. “me, you, luke, and quinn should steal some of my parents alcohol for later, whatcha think?”

you nod your head in agreement and watch as the moms turn back around to face you both, unaware of what just happened behind them. “well, i guess that’s my cue to go, but we’re not done with this conversation! i still have a point to prove!” you say, pointing a finger between the two mothers, who can’t contain their giggles. you roll your eyes playfully and make your way over to luke.

“y/n about time! and why are you cheeks so pink?” luke chuckles. your eyes go wide, you had no idea you were blushing from your encounter with jack.

“oh uh, just really hot with all these people in the house, y’know?” you say, and he nods. he places his devils hat ontop of your head, making you smile. you guys take plenty of pictures, and you begin to look through them scoping out the instagram worthy ones.

—

after all of the draft stuff is done, you guys had a nice dinner, and now you and the boys are sat outside by the fire pit. you told your mom you’d walk home since you only live four doors down, and she trusts you so she said it was alright. despite you guys thinking you snuck the alcohol, both parents are well aware that you guys drink whenever you’re alone. it’s been a tradition every time quinn and jack are home at the same time, but you all still think a secret.

you’re a pretty buzzed since you’re a bit of a lightweight, and start dozing off slightly. the last face you see before you close your eyes fully is jacks, since he’s in the chair across from you. you’re awoken to strong arms carrying you out of the chair you’re sat in, and bringing you inside.

both the alcohol and drowsiness makes you utterly confused, and you mumble something that quickly sobers you up the second it slips out of your lips. “mm jack you’re really strong, and you smell good too,” you say. immediately you realize what you just said and open your eyes fully. luke’s face says it all, and your mouth falls agape.

as soon as luke reaches the top of the stairs he puts you down from his arms, and looks at you with an all serious facial expression. “y/n, what did you-“ “luke im so sorry” you interrupt him, tears forming at the brim of your eyes. you don’t know why you’re crying, but you assume it’s from the alcohol. immediately luke wipes your tears, “no no no why are you crying? i’m not mad, i just have a question i’ve been dreading asking you.”

“what is it?” you ask, sniffling a little bit. your emotions are all over the place due to the current state of your intoxication level.

“do you like jack? i’ve had a feeling you did for the longest time now, but i never wanted to jump to conclusions. i’m not mad i promise, if anything i want you guys together. do you know how awesome it would be if you became my sister?!” luke chuckles, clearly a bit tipsy.

“oh luke, yes. i do like your brother, and i’ve tried so hard to push the feelings away, but they just never go. i’m really sorry,” you plead.

“don’t apologize, i mean i wish you would’ve told me sooner but too late for that now. you should tell him, i see the way he looks at you y/n. i’m serious.”

you almost snort at his last sentence, but you bite back your laughs, “luke what? are you crazy? he doesn’t even live here anymore! it’s such a pointless thing if i tell him.”

“look, i’m his brother and im telling you to do it. i know jack like the back of my hand. y/n there’s a reason he always treats you differently than other girls. you’re important to him, i’m serious.”

“yeah yeah whatever, you’re crazy. anyways i told my mom i’d be home before 1 and it’s already 12:30 so i better get going,” you smile up at him.

“let me walk you home”

“okay, let me get my shoes,” you say as you walk down the stairs. as you’re walking, ellen creeps out of her room, “luke honey, do you mind getting me a glass of water?”

luke turns around to face his mother, and nods his hand, “i’ll be back,” he says. suddenly jack walks in from outside and notices you waiting by the front door, “you heading home?”

“yeah, just waiting for luke to walk me home,” you smile.

“let me walk you home, luke takes forever. i’m sure you’re parents are waiting for you anyways.”

“you sure? i can always wait…”

“yes i insist, cmon,” jack says as he started to unlock his front door.

—

the late night humid air hits your skin, and the sound of crickets fills the air. the only thing illuminating you and jack are the street lights and the moon. you’re still a little tipsy, and get a random urge to tell jack your feelings, and so you do.

“jack i need to tell you something,” you blurt out.

“hm? what is it?” he says, turning his head to face you.

“i like you, a lot. i always have, actually. i know you don’t feel the same but i have alcohol in my system and luke told me to tell you so-” you ramble, but get interrupted.

“sometimes you need to shut up y/n,” jack says before leaning in to kiss your lips

#jack hughes #i hate this so much #this was rushed #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #luke hughes #hockey blurb #hockey imagine

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emgavi · 1 year

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hi, do you think you could write a gavi x reader where they're best friends but secretly have feelings for each other and y/n is comforting gavi because spain is out of the world cup and he confesses his feelings, sorry i know this is really specific ❤️‍🩹😭

"I still won" (Gavi x reader)

this one hurt to write but I hope you enjoy it! :))

1808 words

You and Gavi have been best friends for what felt like your entire lives.

Meeting when you were small toddlers at the playground one sunny day. After that you become inseparable, always going over to each other's houses or the park to play. Gavi would always want to play football while you liked playing pretend superheroes.

As you got older you both stayed close. Always there to support each other through everything and always confiding to each other when something happens. You both were each other’s best best friend.

However Gavi has always had a crush on you since you were little kids and it only grew as you both got older. He never got the courage to say anything to you about his feelings, too scared to admit and possibly ruin your friendship if you didn’t feel the same. He hoped one day he could tell you, but for now he loved having you in the stands with his family to cheer him on the field. Especially now on the big stage, the 2022 world cup.

You were so proud seeing him give it his all, and when he made his first world cup goal. You remember him after he scored, pointing up to where you and his family were sitting and feeling, for a moment, a blush on your cheeks, pretending that he felt the same as you did.

“Do you see him?” you hear Gavi’s mom say next to you, looking at the field of players warming up for the game, breaking you from your thoughts.

“No … oh wait there he is!” you said seeing gavi passing the ball with pedri

‘Oh he looks so handsome out there, mi hijo” his mom said looking on proudly towards her son.

Aurora from next to you nudges your side, “do you think he looks handsome y/n?” she says with a smirk, knowing about your not so tiny crush on her brother after getting it out of you one night. You blushed in embarrassment, stuttering a bit, ‘uh- i -mean yeah, he always does”

After a moment , “So when are you going to tell him, I know my son isn’t going to be the first to admit?” his dad asked you. His whole family basically knew how both of you had feelings for each other but waited for you too to finally realize it.

“I uh - whaaat, i don’t know what you are talking about?” you said. His family just smirked at you. “It’s okay y/n/n i know” aurora said winking at you. You rolled your eyes at her, turning to continue to wait for the game against Morocco to begin.

—-----

As you watched the game, you felt like you were on edge the whole time. Always feeling worried for Gavi as he kept falling to the floor in pain. Hating seeing all the grass stains on his jersey.

He fought hard for the game and you made sure that he knew as he was subbed off, you and the family section clapping and cheering his name.

Spain just couldn’t find the net the whole 90 minutes. Then extra time came and you prayed that they would score so they didn’t have to go to penalties. Sadly that is exactly what happened.

You held your breath and held hands with Gavi’s mom and sister, watching the first player up to take the penalty. Taking a quick glance at Gavi, seeing his nervous face, made you feel more nervous for him. The feeling of hope slowly decreases as another kick is taken until the game is over. Conforming the worst…Spain has been eliminated.

Looking out onto the field at the Spanish players you see the disappointment and sadness. You can’t help but feel the same. Seeing Gavi look at the other players from the other team celebrating with a stone face made you want to go down to the field and hug him. Sadly you had to wait before you could do that. You and Gavi’s family walked down to the family section where the players could meet their families inside the stadium.

As you all waited there for a while, you finally saw Gavi walking towards us with his national team polo shirt and sweats having an emotionless face. But you could immediately see through the facade.

“Hola” he said softly as he went to hug his parents. Then he moved to his sister, then to you. Finally being able to hug Gavi brought you relief and you tried to show that it’ll be okay , he’ll be okay with your hug. “I’m so proud of you, regardless of the outcome pabs” you whispered in his ear while he hugged you tight, and longer than he hugged the rest.

He simply nodded his head at your statement and slowly pulled away. As you did you looked up at his eyes, and you could tell he was keeping his emotions in, not wanting people to see him fall apart. He turned his head to his family and then to you as he said, “gracias for supporting me through this, I love you all so much”

His parents gave him another needed hug and you could only look at him concernedly. “I’ll meet you guys back at the hotel, the team is going to have dinner and a meeting later” We nodded and said our goodbyes, before he could leave you grabbed his hand “hey , you sure you're okay?, you don’t have to hide it from me you know”.

He gave you a small smile “I know , it’s okay, I'll see you soon okay?” He gave your hand a small squeeze before letting go and walking back to the locker room.

“Come on y/n , our ride is here” Aurora said, putting her hand on my shoulder. I nodded and followed to the car.

At the hotel…

By now it was late in the evening, you were getting ready for bed soon. Aurora, who was rooming with you, just stepped out, saying that she was going to go downstairs to the hotel for snacks. Just a couple of minutes later after that you heard a knock.

You went to open the door, confused a bit. why didn’t Aurora use her key card, but instead of seeing her in front of you , you see Gavi. “Gavi ? I thought you were going to be with the team right now?” while letting him in the room.

He shook his head and walked to the coach but didn't sit down, he looked as if he was holding something in. “no… well yes but i just needed to see you” he said softly. You gave him a soft smile , “like i said before, you can tell me what’s on your mind Gavi, i can tell your holding it in”

When you said that , he looked at you softly before walking up to you and wrapping you in a hug, putting his head on your shoulder. You hugged him back just as tight, and after a couple of moments, that’s when you start to feel your shirt start to feel wet by your shoulder. Gavi was releasing all the pain and sadness he tried to keep in from everyone until he could finally show his vulnerable side with you, only knowing you would understand him fully.

Crying on your shoulder, you started to rub his back, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay, your okay pabs” you said.

He shook his head and continued the waterworks, “no it’s not okay, if only i could’ve tried harder then maybe we would still be in this tournament, i failed”. His body lightly shook from his sobs.

Shaking your head immediately at his words you told him softly “no no no, don’t you dare say that, you, Pablo Martin paez Gavira, are one of the most hard working players I’ve ever seen and you did all you could on that pitch today, i saw you, you were amazing, the cards just wasn’t in our favor. But please don’t call yourself a failure because you're not, you’re Spain’s youngest player ever to score a goal in the World Cup, you’re a phenomenal football player who at the age of 18 made the roster over a bunch of senior players, and you’re the bestest best friend ever.”

Sniffling a little,you feel him calm down in your arms,and you continue to rub his back. Then Gavi whispers something in your neck.

“I love you” he said.

“I love you too” you said normally since you both said it as best friends

“No…i mean im in love with you” he took his head out of your shoulder to meet your eyes.

Frozen in your spot, Gavi can sense you stiffen at these words. Quickly getting out of your embrace, he starts to rambling, “i - uh i’m sorry, i didn’t say that- well - i did but i’ve been having these uh feelings for you and i know you probably don't feel-

Cutting him off, you lean in, putting your hands to his cheeks and kiss him. It was soft and quick, now Gavi was the one who was frozen as you pulled away.

“I love you too stupid” you said gigling , still holding his cheeks

He looks at you with wide eyes , “you do ?” smiling wide. You nod your head, “if i didn’t i wouldn’t do this” you lean giving another kiss but this time Gavi kisses you back, putting his hands on your waist while yours to his shoulders. Pulling away admiring each other, he can’t help but laugh at this situation.

‘What?” you ask him smiling, seeing him for the first time today smile.

His eyes sparkle as he looks into yours, “It’s just, I may have lost today but at the end of the day I feel like i still won” smiling wide at you.

Pouting at him , “you’re adorable”

He leans his forehead on yours, completely forgetting how sad he was when he first came into your room. “Thank you y/n/n, for what you said, i’m so grateful to have you support me for everything, You mean so much to me , i don’t know what i would do without you, I love you querida”

“ I love you too, pabs” you say. Still standing soaking up the happy moment between you too, a knock on the door interrupts the mood.

“Can I come in now Pablo!?” Aurora spoke behind the door. Making your head turn to Gavi, “did you kick out your sister so you could come over here?” you said laughing at little

Gavi just shrugged his shoulders, “....maybe”

“Yall better be together now because I had to wait forever in the lobby and they had no snacks!” his sister called out.

Laughing at the siblings, you went to open the door for his sister.

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi blurb #football fanfic #spain football x reader #football imagines #football imagine

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pyrondeeznutz · 10 months

Text

Ticci Toby Headcanons

PT.01

Toby Rogers past, upbringing, pre-proxy headcanons. See proxy era headcanons here ⬇️

CW: Slight mentions of animal abuse, domestic violence, psychosis, bullying, car crash, gore

<NOTE> Im a psychology nerd so I tried to make it as realistic as possible. This is my first time doing anything like this but I have a lot of thoughts about Tobys character. Its not proofread so ignore any typos or grammatical errors. Also… its very long… I have… so many thoughts…

BIOGRAPHY .

PATIENT NAME: Tobias (Toby) Erin Rogers

BIRTHDATE: April 28th, 1994

AGE: Currently 19 years old

HC/EC: Brown hair, brown eyes

ETHNICITY: White American

BIRTHPLACE: Denver, Colorado

FAMILY: Connie Rogers (mother), Dan Rogers (Father), Lyra Rogers (sister)

DIAGNOSIS: Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis (CIPA), Tourettes Syndrome, Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Bipolar Disorder (Type 1, psychotic)

THE GURNEY .

Toby was in and out of hospitals from a very young age due to his wide range of physical and mental health concerns

His earliest memory was when, at age 4, he hit his head after falling onto cement and didn’t cry, scream, or even really acknowledge that he was hurt

After seeing the bloody mess her young child was in, Connie ran Toby to the hospital where tests were ran to determine what caused his lack of pain response

Finally at age 8, Toby was diagnosed with CIPA. This condition not only prevented his brain from generating a pain response but also responses to extreme temperatures (frostbite, heat burn, etc)

Due to these dangerous health issues, and his neurotic mother, Toby was put in homeschooling from a very early age. Connie was too protective of her son to allow him to go out on his own at his age

His earliest memories revolved around roaming hospital halls, his parents fighting over medical bills, being talked to by social workers and doctors, having tests done, minor surgeries, etc.

DEAR OLD DAD .

Dan Rogers was a difficult man. He never admitted he was wrong, he spent his evenings drinking on the couch, and always had something to complain about. The best words to describe this man was angry, bitter, and reckless

He wasn’t a father by any means. To Toby, the man was more of a nuisance than anything. An alcoholic manchild who stood in his way

The boy never got along with Dan. His father would see him as a burden, bringer of unnecessary medical costs. He severely emotionally and physically neglected his children from their birth. Dan never wanted to be a father.

Due to the costs of Tobys medical problems, Dan would continuously attempt to “prove he was faking” his CIPA, and yell at the boy for his strange twitches due to Tourettes. On one occasion, Dan put his sons hand in a pot of boiling water to try and elicit a pain response that never came.

As Toby got older and more independent from his mother, he would often mouth off to his father, talk back, or straight up ignore him. There was never a moment of peace between those two

Being the money maker in the house, Dan was usually very overworked and stressed. He turned to alcohol to relieve this, and his bad temper got worse when he drank. Often to the point his outbursts would lead to physical violence against his family

It was like walking in a minefield for Toby and his family. And since the supposed “man of the house” was a drunken mean old man, Toby took it upon himself to protect his family from his fathers wrath.

He would purposely act up to direct Dans fist towards him. The boy couldn’t feel it anyways, and being hit, pushed, grabbed, was better than having his sister or mother be hit or yelled at.

The young boy spent his childhood in a rage, he was powerless against his father.

MOTHER DEAREST .

Unlike her husband, Connie was a quiet woman who cared deeply for her children

She was well-mannered, motherly, and kept to herself. And while she was a good woman, she had her fair share of flaws

You would catch her dead before you ever caught her losing control over her emotions. Connie grew up quick and that stuck with her. From a young age she took care of her manchild of a husband

She couldn’t afford to lose herself to silly things like emotions. She had a family to care for, a house to clean, meals to cook. Her priorities lied on appearance over her health

This was one of the many reasons she couldn’t leave her husband despite the years of abuse

Despite all the violence, berating, assault. This life was her own and it was just another thing she had to live with

Toby loved his mother, he really did. He knew she did the best given the circumstances. Connie kept her children fed, clothed and housed. Thats all he could really ask for

But he despised from the depths of his soul how she could just sit by and let the abuse happen. How she never left Dan. How she never cared enough to leave despite not knowing what lied in store for them beyond that house

To her, Dan was a safety net. He provided money, insurance, he paid the bills, put food on the table. Connie quit her job in order to homeschool her son. There was no choice

To Toby, his mother was a coward who never stuck up for herself. And god forbid he ever turn into that

So Toby fought the battles his mother couldn’t. He said the words his mother didn’t dare to speak. He took the beatings and his mother did nothing but ask her husband to stop

SOUL SISTER .

In the chaos of that household, Lyra was something of fresh air for Toby

While the two did fight as any siblings do, they had a mutual care and understanding for each other

Lyra would keep a makeshift first aid kit under her bed for whenever Toby got into minor accidents or if their father went too far some nights

Like her little brother, Lyra had a lot of anger in her. She would always try to stop Dan from going too far and she was good at talking Toby and their father down from ripping each others throats out

She would channel this anger and frustration into sports like boxing, soccer, rugby. It was easier to express her feelings through physical means than ever talking about it. The girl was a perfect mix of her parents

When he was younger, Toby had a very bad and hostile relationship with Lyra. He was young and didn’t have any clue how to handle his emotions and would often threaten or physically hurt his sister

But as he grew up, and they bonded over the related abuse, and they would be there for each other, Toby developed tender care for his older sister. If she got a boyfriend, he would be ready to attack at any sign of disrespect. If she brought over friends, he would stay in his room not to embarrass her.

Just as he was with his mother, he was very protective over Lyra. She did so much for him, and he wanted to keep her safe. It was a tangled, messy relationship but they made it work despite her attitude and his anger

CONDUCT .

Toby grew up completely isolated from other kids, families, etc. The most socialization he got was going to family events or being dragged to the grocery store with his mother.

All he knew growing up was violence. And so when he was around other people, he would project everything he learnt from his father onto other kids

From a very early age he was made to feel small and insignificant in his own home by the people that were supposed to take care of him. And so whenever something challenged him out of the house, he would do whatever he needed to do to put them below him

Sometimes Toby would project this violence onto small animals, occasionally moving onto bigger animals such as cats. The feeling of killing something smaller than himself with his own hands gave him a sense of power and control he never had

Due to his untreated ADHD, the boy would often be loud, hyperactive and intrusive. He would have temper tantrums and outbursts as well, and his mother never knew how to handle it

He was a problem child from birth. Not only causing problems for himself, but for everyone around him

Toby would talk back, curse, say strange and vulgar things, refuse to apologize or admit he was wrong, and would run away from home occasionally.

But despite these behavioural issues, Toby always refused to touch alcohol. Despite all the anger, dread and frustration he felt he swore he’d never become the kind of man his father was

BULLY .

Around 12 years old, Toby’s parents decided it would be best for him to get properly socialized and placed him in a public school

He was now old enough to recognize that bleeding is bad and how to check for injuries despite his CIPA, which allowed Connie to calm down tremendously when it came to her anxiety surrounding her boys health and safety

Despite his mothers insistence that he would love public school, he’d make so many friends there, and that everything would be fine, Toby knew damn well he wouldn’t do well there. He was already bullied by his own father, imagine how other kids would react. He’s seen the movies.

And of course Toby was right. Due to his Tourettes, his tics would often confuse, scare and gross other kids out. They would either straight up treat him like a diseases rat or ruthlessly bully him

The boy was called every name in the book, from “twitchy freak” to “ticci Toby”

Alongside the ostracism and harassment from his peers, his tics and behavioural issues would cause him issues with his teachers. They would often scold him for being a disturbance in class

Making and keeping friends was near impossible for the boy. Talking to a “creepy loser” like him was practically social suicide. He was weird, strange, and given his history of fighting the other kids he was probably dangerous too. No kid wanted to be around that.

On occasion, the other boys would get physical with him and he would always hit back, leading him to get in more trouble with the school staff

Toby would be beat down at school and go home to have it done to him all again by his father

Eventually the school year came to an end and Toby was put back in homeschooling

Even though the torment in middle school came to an end, that didn’t mean the bullying stopped. He was now a known freak and the perfect target for kids who were a bit too much like him. They would harass him online until they got bored, and god forbid he saw any of them in public

It made the angry, powerless boy feel even worse in his own world. There wasn’t a night that went by where he didn’t think of going off and getting his revenge. Make them pay for ever fucking with him.

THE CRASH .

When Toby turned 17, he had finally got himself medicated for his recently diagnosed Bipolar Disorder which caused manic / depressive episodes

He was put on antipsychotics and stimulant medication for his ADHD

While he was being treated, his sister got a job and so did his mother. Outside of all the familiar instability and violence his father caused, life was good

Toby was going to be 18 soon and his sister promised that when he became a legal adult, she would take him to move out with her

He didn’t have any friends, he didn’t really have any plans for his life, but he had a life ahead of him regardless and that was enough

The boy was working through pain too great to imagine, he was carrying 17 years of fear and dread, he was so young holding on to so much

But he had a way out. He was going to get a job and move out with his dear older sister and maybe even go to college. He was going to overcome this

That was his views at least up until the crash

Lyra was driving Toby back home from a doctors appointment when it happened

His tics were acting up, it was rather distracting

He was so caught up in his own little world and trying to get through the frustrating twitches that he didn’t even have a second to process what happened

The next thing Toby knew, the car was swerving right into a lamppost and the air bags were deployed

And the next thing Toby saw was his sisters mangled, bloody body. The force of the steering wheel crushing her bones and shards of glass piercing her skin. The physical trauma near shattered her ribs

And the next thing Toby heard was the pained groans and wheezing from his dying sister

Thats the last thing he remembered before he woke up in a hospital bed with his broken arm being patched up. The doctors wouldn’t even let him see his sister who was under surgery in the emergency room

He didn’t get to be there by her side when she died

He didn’t get a goodbye

And while he was surrounded by family, his aunt Lori was even there to support his mother, Tobys father was nowhere to be seen

Dan was too drunk to drive, and too lazy to call a cab. He didn’t care about Toby and he didn’t care that his daughter just died. One less burden.

In one afternoon Tobys entire life slipped through the cracks of his hands

HIM .

The grief was sickening. It was heavier than the weight of the world. The silence that flooded his once loud house from his sister blaring her Beatles albums was deafening

These were the kinds of things that only happened in movies. People didn’t really lose their family members, and these things didn’t happen to people like him

It wasn’t fair

The one good thing in his miserable life, the moment things were finally getting better. There was no hope anymore, Toby was hopeless

He thought of ending his life every night as he stared at the ceiling, not getting a wink of sleep. But he couldn’t do that to his mom. She never showed it, but it showed clearly from the weight in her steps, the tired look in her eyes. He knew she was carrying a burden too great to bear

He couldn’t take away both of her children

So he would lie there night after night hoping to wake up from the gutwrenching dream just to hear her laugh, sing, blast her shitty music. He never really liked The Beatles, but she did. But she did.

It was all too much for him. From the moment Toby stepped out of the hospital he hadn’t felt real. The boy was living two steps away from reality like there was a sheet of plastic in between him and the world

Days would go by where he would forget to take his medication, or where he would simply just sleep the entire day away

On the days he was awake, Toby would feel like he was going insane. He wouldn’t feel real, he would see things out of the corner of his eye

Sometimes he’d swear he saw something outside his window at night

A strange creature standing under the streetlights

And it only got worse from here. Toby would almost always refuse to leave the house, he stopped sleeping, he felt like something was watching him

The boy would spend hours staring outside his bedroom window. The forest in his backyard had eyes and they were watching him

A wave of sickness overtook Toby. He would wake up with bloody noses sometime and no medicine would get rid of his strange cough. Sometimes he would sleepwalk and end up waking up on the edge of the forest behind his house, cold and alone in the dark of the night

It all added up. It was too much. The anger, the fear, the paranoia. The little voice in the back of his head telling him to just do it. Get revenge. Make him pay.

ABLAZE .

The years and years of abuse. Everything his father had done. He wasn’t there. He was never there.

Why should a man like that deserve to live? 17 fucking years of making Toby feel small and insignificant

Not today. And not anymore. The world was in the boys hands now, and so was a knife. And that night was the night Toby Rogers killed his own father.

No words could describe the feeling of adrenaline and rage that overtook the boy that night. There was no other option, this was the way it was always going to happen

Everything Toby has ever been through has led up to this. It was his own divine prophecy

And God showed no mercy that night

23 stab wounds drilled into his fathers chest, his face bloody, beaten and unrecognizable. Toby smashed his tiny bruised fists ruthlessly into his fathers now deceased body.

The only thing that stopped him was the scream of his mother. It was something primal, something deep from the pain in her gut.

Toby ran into the garage and grabbed two axes that belonged to his father, one old one new. Alongside that he grabbed gasoline and matches. He was going to do what he knew best. He was going to destroy everything.

And so the boy ran down the street of his neighborhood pouring the gasoline along his way and dousing the rest over the trees as he stood at the edge of the forest

Striking a match, the dry grass and trees caught on fire and immediately exploded into flames. The heat and blaze engulfed the boy and soon it began catching onto the rest of the forest

This was the end, he thought. Strangely enough, even though his heart was beating in his throat and his body was shaking, he felt calm. He had no regrets and he was fine with this being his ending.

His mind went blank, everything felt like a static screen, he could feel himself getting dizzy and there was a loud ringing in his ears

The last thing he saw was a tall, faceless creature in the midst of the smoke and fire as he collapsed to the ground.

And that was the death of Tobias Erin Rogers.

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