#shouldn’t know if i want to maintain peace

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part I

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

a/n : This is the sequel series of Boundless Devotion. If you have not read the first series yet, please read that first since there are spoilers in this first chapter.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: light angst, mentions of past abuse, fluff, hints of sexual tension

Words: 3257

Leaning against the doorway of the royal library in the castle, the newly crowned queen of the Romanov kingdom gazes quietly at the scene before her, a soft and fond expression on her face.

After months spent rekindling friendships, pretending to be a couple, foiling attempted coups, and uncovering hidden identities, such peaceful moments are a rare and cherished occurrence for the red-haired royal.

“I can feel you watching me,” you state plainly to your guest, your eyes never leaving the book in your hand as you casually flip the page.

Natasha Romanov’s lips curl up fondly at your words, pushing herself off from her position against the door frame and making her way over to you. 

She had decided to drop by briefly before her first meeting with the council of high-ranking nobles began, but seeing you standing and reading by the window, your form bathed in sunlight and an ethereal glow, she couldn’t help but be distracted. 

“Can you blame me?” Natasha asks as she stops in front of you.

Her finger gently hooks under your chin in a silent request, and you lift your head from your book to meet her eyes, tilting your head curiously.

Natasha leans in slowly until her face is a short distance from yours.

She whispers in a low, intimate tone, "You're breathtakingly beautiful when you read."

A tiny, amused smile forms on your face, unable to hide your reaction to her words as a familiar warmth spreads across your cheeks. 

Natasha’s grin widens at the sight of your blush, causing you to roll your eyes slightly with an exasperated huff and playfully push her away with your book.

“Calling me beautiful anytime I do anything is going to lose its charm one day,” you warn teasingly.

"If that ever happens, I'm sure I could think of other ways to make you blush," Natasha teases back with a smirk.

You shake your head fondly at her usual confidence and teasing, a smile remaining on your face.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to the council meeting soon?” you chastise, moving to take a seat on a nearby cushioned settee.

Natasha follows closely, settling beside you and resting her head against her hand on the back of the seat in a relaxed position. Her eyes soften into a fond and adoring look as she gazes at you, her other hand falling atop yours and caressing it gently.

“I wanted to see you,” she answers, her voice soft and earnest.

The intensity of her gaze makes you duck your head slightly, choosing instead to focus on your connected hands between your bodies.

“You see me every day now,” you point out, your tone light and teasing. 

“And yet it never seems to be enough,” Natasha quips back smoothly.

You let out a small laugh at her charming words, not disagreeing with her statement. 

While your manor undergoes repairs from the damage caused by Dreykov’s explosive powders, and as your previous staff members gradually return and reacquaint themselves with their roles, you’ve been staying in one of the castle’s guest rooms at Natasha and her family’s insistence.

Despite her new responsibilities as queen, the constant time at the castle has given you and Natasha plenty of opportunities to be together, allowing you two to explore and enjoy this new level of intimacy in your relationship.

And even though you know Natasha honestly meant what she just said, you have a guess as to the other underlying reason she decided to check on you.

It’s been a couple of weeks since you recovered from your life-threatening injury from the fight with Dreykov, and although she tries to hide it, you sometimes catch Natasha giving you subtle looks of concern, likely haunted by the memory of how close you came to dying in her arms. 

Looking back up at her, you easily recognize the slight pinch of worry in her expression.

You readjust your hand in hers, interlocking your fingers and giving it a gentle tug.

“What’s wrong?” you inquire.

Natasha shakes her head slightly, offering a reassuring smile, “It’s nothing.”

You give her a doubtful look, raising your brow expectantly.

She chuckles lightly at your stubborn expression before relenting with a slight shake of her head. 

“I just wanted to see you…” Natasha admits, placing her other hand atop your clasp one and giving you a tiny smile. “…to remind myself that, if anything, I still have you by my side. Seeing you makes me feel stronger — like I can actually do this.”

"You can do this, Natasha," you reassure her. "Everyone knows it. Why else would your mother step down and let you reign if she didn't believe you would succeed?"

Natasha rolls her eyes exasperatedly at the mention of her mother. 

"Maybe because she just wants to spend more time in that new, fancy lab of hers," she remarks, pointing a finger in suspicion. "I still believe she blew up the previous one on purpose during the ambush so that she could build this new one."

“It is a really nice lab,” you admit, recalling the countless hours spent assisting the previous Queen in setting up her new research and experiments wing in the castle.

Natasha chuckles knowingly at your comment in support of her mother, but then she releases a heavy sigh, her expression falling slightly.

“Is it wrong that sometimes…I wish we could go back to the simpler times when all I had to worry about was completing my studies so that I could spend more time with you?” she wonders wistfully.

“When we were just friends?” you ask teasingly with a raise of your brow.

“With the addition of our current relationship, of course,” Natasha corrects with an amused smile.

You give her a similar smile in return as you ponder her words and reminisce about your shared past and years of friendship.

A sudden idea comes to mind, prompting you to release Natasha's hand and gesture for her to turn around in her seat.

Curious, Natasha raises a brow but fulfills your request, moving around so that her back now faces you.

She realizes your intention when your hands begin to run through her red hair, untangling it gently with your fingers.

It’s been a long time since you’ve braided her hair.

This simple yet cherished action has always brought her calm and comfort. After you had avoided her for the past year, she had forgotten how much she loved this sensation whenever you did it.

Instinctively, her body leans back, seeking your reassuring touch. Closing her eyes, she relaxes and releases the tension weighing on her.

After a moment, you finally break the silence, wondering the reason for Natasha’s previous wistful question.

“What are you worried about?” you question softly, your fingers deftly moving through her hair.

Natasha frowns lightly, her thoughts reemerging about her main concern over the past weeks.

Dreykov’s words to her during their last conversation in his jail cell still linger in the back of her mind, hinting at the possibility of an impending threat or trouble that she isn’t yet aware of.

Your touch brings her back from her thoughts, reminding her of what she nearly lost.

“I just need to be prepared for anything and not be blindsided like before,” she confesses vaguely, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to be able to protect everyone I care about.”

Her words cause you to furrow your brows, sensing there’s something more she’s not sharing with you but you’re more concerned about the weight she’s placing on herself.

“You shouldn’t feel like you have to handle everything alone,” you tell her. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be here for you, Natasha.”

Briefly, Natasha’s mind flashes to the memory of your pale and almost lifeless body lying in her bed as she anxiously waited helplessly to see if you would survive and wake up.

She was unprepared and failed to protect you last time. She won’t make the same mistakes again.

“Natasha?” you call, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

"I'm finished," you declare, lightly pressing her back to request her to turn around.

Turning back in the seat, she touches her newly braided hair in appreciation.

Focused on admiring your work, Natasha is surprised when your lips press against her cheek in a chaste kiss.

You linger for a moment before pulling away.

Natasha turns to you, slightly stunned. Her hand raises to her cheek where you kissed her, touching the area delicately.

“You’re going to be an amazing queen, Natasha,” you say confidently, echoing the same firm conviction and trust you've expressed every time before. 

Natasha feels the pressure and worries momentarily dissipate at your words. Because, in that moment, nothing else matters.

As long as you believe in her, that’s all she truly needs.

With a soft smile, Natasha’s hand tenderly cups your face, and she leans forward to press a gentle kiss against your lips.

Instinctively, your hands find her shoulders as she leans in further, guiding you to recline on the cushioned arm of the seat, deepening the kiss. 

Lost in the sensation of her passionate lips meeting yours, you moved your hands to the back of her neck, drawing her closer, feeling the heat emanating from her body, mirroring your own. 

When Natasha pulls back slightly, her eyes are darkened with desire, and you're left flushed and breathless at the familiar, intense sight.

You become distinctly aware of her position above you: her chest hovering just above yours, her hand beside your head on the arm of the seat, and the other against the back frame, supporting herself up, with her leg between yours, not quite touching. 

The two of you have shared many close moments over the past week, but nothing more than passionate kisses and innocent touches.

Right now, there’s an unspoken question in her longing gaze, and you find yourself nodding in silent agreement, your pulse quickening with anticipation.

At your permission, her hands instantly move to your waist, bringing your bodies together, her lips seeking yours again in a hungry kiss.

Once again, you feel yourself slowly getting lost in the dizzying whirl of her touch.

But then you remember the time.

“Natasha…”

She hums against you distractedly, trailing kisses down the column of your throat, lightly sucking at a sensitive spot on your collarbone, causing you to gasp in surprise.

“…y-your meeting,” you remind her, biting your lip to stifle the sounds she was coaxing from you.

Natasha pauses, her lips hovering over your skin, her warm breath teasing you, her hand lightly brushing against the exposed skin where your dress had ridden up.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if she might disregard her responsibilities and continue. And if she did, you’re not sure if you could muster the willpower to remind her again.

Finally, after a silent deliberation, Natasha pulls back with reluctance, meeting your gaze with a mixture of disappointment and frustration, her fingers tracing lightly along your waist.

“If only we had gotten together when I was still just the princess,” she sighs wistfully. “Then I wouldn’t have to trade your presence for a bunch of pretentious, power-hungry nobles.”

Your expression softens with a sympathetic smile.

"Would you like to meet up by the lake after your meeting then?" you ask, trying to console her.

Natasha’s face brightens at the suggestion, a wide smile spreading across her lips as she nods eagerly.

“I’d love that.”

You gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear, your fingertips lingering on her cheek as you tease her gently.

“For the record, even if you are the queen now, I can still call you my princess,” you remark playfully.

Natasha chuckles softly, leaning into your touch with a contented sigh. Her eyes close briefly as she savors the tender moment.

“Yours,” she murmurs affectionately. “In everything.”

After a lingering moment, you both stand up, composing yourselves. You watch as Natasha smooths out her clothes and takes a deep breath, a determined expression settling on her face as she turns to you.

"Thank you," she says sincerely before a slight smirk graces her lips. "I told you seeing you makes me feel stronger."

You roll your eyes in disbelief, chuckling as you gather the scattered books.

"I should head back to your mom’s lab. She’s probably waiting for me to return with these books," you say.

Natasha’s hands are already reaching for some of the books from the table before you finish speaking. 

“I can help you carry them,” she offers.

You place a hand on her shoulder, stopping her, and give her a pointed look.

“No, you need to go to your meeting,” you insist firmly.

Natasha considers the time she has remaining before reluctantly relenting with a sigh.

"At least don’t let her work you too hard," she adds protectively.

“I’ll be fine, Natasha,” you reassure her, shooing her away with your hands. “Now, go before you’re late.”

Natasha catches one of your hands in hers, and with a graceful bow, she brings it to her lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. Remaining in her bowed position, her eyes lock onto yours with a deep intensity that makes your breath catch.

“I love you,” she murmurs softly, her voice filled with adoration.

The sincerity of her tone wraps around your heart, and a fond smile grows on your face as you respond just as softly, “I love you too.”

Your voice had a slight tremor, echoing the depth of your feelings for her.

Natasha straightens, her gaze unwavering as she presses one last fleeting kiss to your lips before turning to leave.

You watch her go with a mixture of disappointment and longing, wishing for just a few more moments with her.

Shaking off your reverie, you refocus on your original task. Gathering the books in your arms, you make your way through the halls to return to the lab.

Just as you turn the corner, another figure emerges from that direction, startling you.

You step back abruptly, causing one of the books to tumble from your arms and hit the ground with a soft thud.

The older lord bends down, retrieving the fallen book before handing it back to you with a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“Here you go, Lady Y/n,” he greets you formally.

You nod appreciatively, accepting the book from him.

“Thank you, Chancellor Ross.”

The man standing before you is Chancellor Thaddeus Ross, one of the kingdom’s highest-ranking nobles. His prominence rivals that of Dreykov, and his position as Queen Melina’s advisor grants him considerable influence over matters affecting the kingdom and the royal family. 

Despite his absence for treatment overseas, he returned just in time for Natasha's coronation.

So far, your encounters with him have been polite but brief, lacking any substantial conversation.

"I'm glad to hear that your recovery is progressing well," you say warmly, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"Thank you," he replies formally, his gaze steady. He assesses you critically, slightly unsettling you.

Glancing in the direction he had come from, you assume, "Are you heading to the council meeting?"

"Indeed, I am," he confirms curtly, his demeanor remaining impassive.

An awkward silence follows as you fail to come up with anything further to say. You offer him a polite smile and nod, moving to step to the side. 

“Well, I should let you continue on your way,” you say. “It was nice speaking with you, Chancellor.”

As you walk past him, his following words stop you in your tracks.

“How long do you anticipate your relationship with the young queen will last?”

Turning back to face him, you furrow your brows in confusion at the unexpected question. The silence hangs heavy in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned as you struggle to comprehend his meaning.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," you finally respond, your voice betraying your bewilderment.

He inclines his head slightly, fixing you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"My apologies for the directness, Lady Y/n. I'm merely trying to understand why such a match was approved during my absence."

His tone was measured, almost clinical, as if he was analyzing a political strategy rather than discussing personal relationships. 

"I care deeply for Queen Natasha," you defend firmly, conviction lacing your voice despite the discomfort of the conversation.

"I have no doubt of that," he acknowledges. "You've always been a steadfast friend to Her Majesty, and it's clear to everyone just how much she adores you..."

Usually, comments of Natasha's affection towards you fill you with warmth and joy whenever mentioned by others, but for some reason, the chancellor's words now cast an unexpected shadow of shame and unease around you at the thought.

“...my question is — what more do you have to offer?” he concludes pointedly.

His words cut deep, challenging your value to Natasha beyond companionship.

“I…” you falter, searching for a response. 

Involuntarily, his words trigger memories of Dreykov’s reprimands throughout your childhood in your mind, his voice echoing painfully in your ears.

“Pathetic…Disappointing…Worthless…”

Though you know now that Dreykov is not your real father, his cutting remarks to a young child have already left lasting scars on your self-worth and confidence.

Despite your efforts to move past them, the memories of his harsh and relentless belittling resurfaces, causing you to question yourself anew.

What more could you possibly offer Natasha?

Pressing on at your hesitation, Ross adds with a grave tone, "Are you confident that your love alone is sufficient to navigate the challenges and responsibilities she will face as queen?"

You clutch the books tighter against your chest, struggling to reply.

The warmth you felt from Natasha earlier has long vanished since the conversation began, leaving you reeling with doubt and hesitation.

You had always assured Natasha of your unwavering support, but had you ever considered whether your actions ever genuinely helped her? 

Maybe that’s why she chose not to share everything that was troubling her earlier. 

Because she doesn’t believe you can.

He’s right. You realize. 

Loving her might not be enough.

Your silence prompts him to continue, his questioning relentless.

"Can you honestly say you are the right person to stand beside her?"

Still shaken from his intense scrutiny, your honest answer unconsciously escapes you in a soft whisper.

“I don’t know.”

Stepping back, Chancellor Ross regards you with a somber and grim expression, nodding curtly as he bids you farewell.

“Then I suggest you find out soon, Lady Y/n,” he advises with a sigh, turning to depart. His parting words echo faintly in the corridor, "For the sake of the kingdom's future. And the queen's."

You stand there, rooted to the spot, his words repeating in your mind.

Doubts swirl within you, intertwining with your love for Natasha and creating a storm of uncertainty.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you return to your previous path, one step at a time, gathering your resolve until you are able to walk with some semblance of confidence again. 

Though his words were harsh, they serve as a stark reminder of lessons ingrained in you during your upbringing in the home of Lord Dreykov. Lessons that had helped you endure and survive his torment and abuse through the years.

Lessons you had perhaps forgotten in the comfort and love you found by Natasha's side.

To strive harder. To be better. No matter the cost.

After all, that is the only way you could truly be of any worth to anyone.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

a/n: Thank you for reading and for choosing to continue with this series. It’s exciting to be able to write in this universe once more. Again, updates may not be a frequent as before but I’ll try my best to not let the period in between chapters be too long. I did decide to split the first chapter into 2 parts, so luckily the next part will come out sooner than later.

Also, if I missed your request to be tagged in this series, please let me know.

Taglist: @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @nothanksbye07, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff 

[novaursa]

Where Dragons Dare (3/3)

- Summary: Years later, Vaemond Velaryon petitions for his rightful claim to Driftmark. And a broken family must mend wounds that were inflicted long ago.

- Paring: male!targ reader/Alicent Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin brother of Rhaenyra and is bonded with a dragon. If you want to read more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: this was requested by @witch-of-letters. I hope you enjoy this conclusion to the story. 🙂

- Previous chapter: 2

- Bonus part: Lost Chapters

You sit beside Alicent in your private chambers, the golden light of the late afternoon filtering through the high windows of the Red Keep. The day had been long, burdened by the weight of ruling in your father’s stead, and yet the discussion you’re having with your wife weighs heavier still. Rhaenyra’s impending visit to King’s Landing brings back memories—some bittersweet, some festering like old wounds—and it’s all been cast into sharper focus by Corlys Velaryon’s grievous injury. Now, with Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to claim Driftmark, the political storm brewing could tear apart the fragile peace you've fought to maintain.

Alicent’s eyes are fixed on you, concern mixed with resolve in those familiar dark depths. She’s changed over the years, just as you have; she’s no longer the uncertain girl manipulated by her father, but a woman of keen insight and strength—your equal and partner in every sense.

“It’s clear why Vaemond is pressing his claim,” she says quietly, her voice laced with tension. “He isn’t wrong to seek what he believes is his by rights. Driftmark belongs to the Velaryons, and the boys… well, it’s plain they’re not Laenor’s blood.”

Your eyes snap to hers, a flicker of warning there. “You shouldn’t speak of such things aloud, Alicent. Not with the walls of the Red Keep so eager to whisper.”

“It’s true, Y/N,” she replies firmly, her gaze unyielding. “Everyone knows it, even if they pretend not to. Viserys decreed them legitimate, but we all see the truth. The danger is in the pretense, in clinging to a lie for the sake of peace. But what peace is this, really? Vaemond’s words hold merit. Driftmark’s true heirs are being passed over for a fabricated legacy.”

A heavy silence hangs between you, the air thick with unspoken tensions that have lingered since the day of Laena’s funeral. Your thoughts drift, unbidden, to that dreadful night when everything unraveled—when Aemond claimed Vhagar and lost his eye for it. The memory of his pained screams still haunts you, a knife twisting in your heart each time you recall it. He bore it bravely, far braver than you expected from a boy his age, but the scars left behind were not just physical.

You let out a weary sigh, leaning back against the cushioned seat as your gaze falls to the intricate patterns on the stone floor. “I demanded justice for Aemond,” you murmur, bitterness seeping into your tone. “Luke should’ve been punished, but Father protected Rhaenyra as he always does. Her children are his blind spot, even now. She never truly acknowledged her son’s fault, not really, and from that moment on… everything between us was strained. We’re twins, yet she became a stranger after that day.”

Alicent’s fingers brush against yours, a silent comfort in her touch. “I’ve never forgotten what happened. I never will. It’s easy for Rhaenyra to speak of unity and family, but the truth is her actions always served her ambitions. She’s isolated herself on Dragonstone with Daemon, as if that distance absolves her from the mess she’s left behind.”

Your frown deepens. You love your sister, you do—but those love-blind affections have long been clouded by bitter reality. The bond you once shared feels frayed, worn thin by years of conflict and choices that placed her interests above everything else. Her sons—Jace, Luke, and little Joffrey—hold a place in your heart, but even that affection is tainted by the lies everyone is forced to maintain. You cannot forget how easily your own pleas for justice were disregarded, how Viserys himself demanded silence when you spoke of the truth.

“Viserys is clinging to a fantasy,” you say after a moment, your voice hard. “He wants to die believing that everything he’s built will remain intact, that the realm will carry on in harmony with Rhaenyra and her children. But there’s rot beneath the surface, and the realm won’t turn a blind eye forever.”

Alicent watches you carefully, her expression unreadable for a moment before softening. “It’s not only you who sees it. The lords whisper, the court shifts uneasily. And now Vaemond has brought that truth into the open, no longer content to pretend. The coming days will test the loyalty of those who have only remained silent out of fear.”

A silence falls once more, only broken by the distant cries of gulls and the muffled sounds of the capital below. The sun has dipped lower in the sky, casting sundown shadows across the room, but you can’t bring yourself to end this conversation, not when it feels as though so much is at stake.

“I don’t know what Viserys will do when Rhaenyra arrives,” you admit quietly. “He’s always favored her, always turned a blind eye when it comes to her and her children. If he sides with her again, if he dismisses Vaemond… it will spark something we may not be able to contain.”

Alicent shifts closer, her hand finding yours once more. “Then we must be ready for what comes. You are Prince Regent, Y/N. You have the authority to act, to protect the realm as you see fit. I know where my loyalties lie.”

You look at her, seeing the determination in her eyes, the quiet devotion that’s never wavered. She’s your wife, the mother of your children, and the one person who has stood beside you through all of it. The bitterness that lingers between you and Rhaenyra doesn’t extend here; with Alicent, there’s no pretense, no lies hidden behind strained smiles.

As night finally creeps over the capital, the light outside fading into a deep indigo, the two of you remain locked in conversation. You speak of the future, of what may come when Rhaenyra and Daemon set foot in the Red Keep, of the lines that may be drawn in the sand.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth as the night deepens, emitting warm flickers of light across your private chambers. The weight of the day’s troubles has lessened, replaced by the comfort of Alicent’s presence. The two of you remain close, sharing lingering touches and quiet words. As you move behind her, your hands begin to wander, gliding across the soft fabric of her gown. You hold her close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath beneath your fingertips. Your lips brush against her ear as you murmur, “I think I must confess my sins before the gods, though I fear they are far too many.”

Alicent turns her head slightly, raising an eyebrow at your words. There’s a moment where she appears to take your confession seriously, but then her expression shifts, lips twitching as she fails to suppress a laugh. “That was horrible,” she chuckles, shaking her head, her laughter lightening the mood.

You grin, enjoying the way her laughter sounds, how it brightens the shadows of the evening. “Perhaps, but I’m not sure the gods would easily forgive me if they knew the true extent of my sins,” you jest, voice low and teasing as your hands tighten around her waist.

Her laughter softens into something more intimate as she turns fully toward you, her gaze lingering on your lips before she closes the distance. The kiss is slow at first, a familiar dance of lips and breath, but it quickly deepens as passion flares between you. Her fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer, and the world outside the chambers fades away. It’s just the two of you—no titles, no crowns, only the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

In the growing heat of the moment, clothing becomes a hindrance, something to be discarded in favor of the closeness you both crave. Your hands make quick work of her gown, letting it slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She helps you shed your attire just as quickly until bare skin meets bare skin. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before Alicent pushes you back onto the bed with a determined glint in her eye.

You watch as she climbs atop you, her every movement measured and deliberate. The sight of her like this—confident and in control—ignites something in you, a hunger that’s always been there but now roars to life. “You look like a queen,” you whisper, voice husky, your hands finding her hips as she guides you into her. “My heart, my love.”

Alicent gasps softly, closing her eyes as she sinks onto you, the slow, steady rhythm she sets sending shivers through you both. The pleasure builds gradually, each movement deliberate and teasing. You can see the mischief in her eyes as she reaches for a nearby candle, tipping it just enough to let drops of warm wax fall onto your chest. The heat is a sharp contrast against your skin, but it only spurs your desire further.

“To raise the dragon with fire,” she whispers, her voice low and filled with a playful edge as the wax continues to drip.

You chuckle darkly, gripping her hips more firmly as you thrust upward. “The dragon is already raised, my love.” Your words send a thrill through her, and the pace quickens as she moves above you, her moans mingling with your own.

The candles forgotten, they clatter to the floor as her movements become more intense, both of you teetering on the edge of release. But just as you feel yourself ready to fall over that precipice, Alicent suddenly stops, lifting herself away from you. The absence leaves you throbbing with frustration, your desire only heightened by the way she watches you, a knowing smile curving her lips.

“What are you doing?” you groan, the teasing ache almost too much to bear.

She leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that only stokes the fire in your blood. “Patience, my love,” she whispers against your lips, her voice dripping with teasing amusement. But patience has never been your strong suit, not when it comes to her.

With a growl of determination, you flip her beneath you, your body pressing hers into the soft sheets. You position her on her stomach, her back arched as you take hold of her hips and guide yourself back into her. She moans your name, the sound sending a rush of satisfaction through you as you begin to move with renewed urgency, your rhythm rough and intense, driven by the need to claim her fully.

Alicent’s fingers clutch at the sheets as each thrust draws another cry of pleasure from her lips. You lean down, your mouth brushing against her ear as you whisper praises between ragged breaths, telling her how beautiful she is, how perfect, how she belongs to you as much as you belong to her. The words seem to drive her wild, her voice trembling as she reaches for that peak again.

The pace grows frantic as you both reach the edge together, your bodies locked in perfect harmony. With one final thrust, you feel the tension snap, sending you both spiraling into a shared high that leaves you breathless, your minds lost in the euphoria of your union.

When the last waves of pleasure fade, you collapse beside her, gathering her into your arms as you both catch your breath. The night is quiet now, only the distant hum of the city outside breaking the stillness. You press a kiss to her temple, your heart still pounding in your chest.

For now, in this moment, everything else can wait.

The corridors of the Red Keep echo softly with your footfalls as you walk side by side with your eldest son, Aegon. The council meeting had been more taxing than usual, and you could see the strain in the boy’s eyes, though he hides it behind a practiced indifference. You glance at him, noting how he chews the inside of his cheek—a habit he’s never quite grown out of.

“Father, I—” Aegon starts, his voice tense, betraying the anxiety that simmers beneath his confident exterior. “I didn’t mean to sound insolent when I questioned Lord Lyman, I just—”

You stop, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You did well, Aegon,” you say, cutting through his worry. “There was no fault in what you said. You spoke with strength and clarity, and you asked the right questions. We must be clear in our decisions, especially when others are too hesitant to say what needs to be said.”

Aegon blinks, the tension easing from his brow. He nods slowly, his expression softening. “Thank you, Father.” His voice is quieter now, laced with gratitude, and as the two of you continue walking, his steps seem lighter. The bond between you is often tested by his impulsiveness and uncertainty, but moments like this remind you that beneath the bravado, Aegon seeks your approval, your guidance.

You approach the sunroom, where a midday meal awaits. The bright sunlight streams through the windows, bathing the space in warmth. Already seated are Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron, each engaged in their own conversations. Helaena’s face lights up the moment she sees you, her smile wide and genuine.

“Father! I finished my collection,” she announces excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat. Her gaze sparkles with the kind of innocent joy you’ve always cherished in her.

You smile back, a rare softness in your eyes. “That’s wonderful, Helaena. I promise I’ll come by later and see it. I’m sure it’s even more impressive than the last one.”

She beams at your words, her contentment visible, before returning her focus to the small assortment of insect jars she’s arranged on the table.

Aemond and Daeron, standing nearby, approach you as well. Aemond, ever the observant one, nods in greeting. “Father, it seems preparations for tonight’s feast are nearly complete. Mother mentioned that Rhaenyra’s arrival will likely set tongues wagging.” His tone is measured, hiding a touch of wariness behind his composed demeanor.

“Let them wag,” Daeron adds with a grin, his youthful energy apparent. “We’ll hold our own, as we always do.”

You can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest at how they’ve grown—each of them distinct in temperament, but unified by the bonds of family. “We will,” you agree, placing a reassuring hand on Daeron’s shoulder.

Before the conversation can continue, the door to the sunroom opens, and Alicent steps inside. Her eyes sweep across the room before settling on you. A subtle crease forms between her brows as she notices the slight grimace on your face—a telltale sign of discomfort you’ve never been able to fully mask from her. She moves toward you, concern evident in her expression.

“Y/N, is your leg bothering you again?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. 

Before you can answer, Helaena, ever attuned to things others overlook, speaks up from her seat. “It’s the weather. The clouds are moving in. His leg hurts when the air changes like that.”

Alicent’s alarm deepens. “Should I summon Grand Maester Orwyle to examine it? Perhaps there’s something he can do.”

You shake your head, offering her a comforting smile. “It’s nothing to worry over, Alicent. Just an old pain from that fall off Dallax years ago. It comes and goes with the weather, as Helaena said. I’ll be fine.”

Though she nods, you can see that she’s not fully reassured, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm, a silent expression of her lingering concern.

The moment is broken by a knock at the door, and one of the guards steps inside, bowing slightly. “Your Grace, the Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon have arrived with their children. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Vaemond are with them as well.”

A heavy sigh escapes you, the weight of the situation pressing down like an iron mantle. “Of course they have,” you mutter under your breath, straightening your posture. Turning back to Alicent, you catch her worried gaze, knowing she senses the unease that tightens in your chest. This reunion has all the makings of a volatile confrontation, and the old wounds that have never fully healed threaten to bleed anew.

“I must go and welcome them,” you say, your voice measured but weary. The obligations of duty pull you forward, even when your heart longs to stay here with your family in this fleeting moment of peace.

Alicent steps closer, her fingers brushing against your sleeve in a silent gesture of support. “We’ll be by your side.”

You nod, grateful for her presence, and glance back at your children, who watch you with varying degrees of concern and curiosity. Even now, they look to you for strength, for guidance, and you cannot fail them. Not today. Not ever.

With one last glance at the warm sunlit room—a sanctuary from the political storm outside—you prepare yourself for the inevitable tension that awaits in the great hall. The time for peace and warmth has passed; now, you must step back into the fray.

The throne room is heavy with the weight of history, the distant clang of armor and murmured whispers echoing through the vast chamber. You stand at the base of the Iron Throne, the twisted swords looming behind you like the sharp shadows of past decisions. This place has always felt suffocating—the power it represents, the burden it imposes—but today, it seems even more so. The air is filled with anticipation, with all the words left unspoken over the years, words that now hover like ghosts between you and your sister.

The grand doors creak open, and in walks Rhaenyra, flanked by Daemon and her children. The entourage is impressive in its own right. But your eyes meet Rhaenyra’s first, a mixture of affection and lingering resentment flickering in her gaze. Daemon’s expression is inscrutable as ever, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, as if he’s already prepared for whatever battle this day might bring.

“Brother,” Rhaenyra greets, her voice formal but laced with a warmth she struggles to fully suppress. The distance between you isn’t just measured by the steps she takes toward you but by the years of strained silences and fractured trust. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed,” you reply, giving her a nod. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

She glances back at her children—Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey—who linger closer to their stepfather. It’s a small, subtle act, but one that doesn’t escape your notice. The lines have already been drawn, loyalties established, even within family. Your eyes shift momentarily to Lucerys, who shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. The memory of that night, when Aemond lost his eye, still lingers in the corners of your mind like a festering wound.

Daemon steps forward, offering you a mocking half-bow. “Prince Regent,” he drawls, the title rolling off his tongue with a hint of amusement. “I trust King’s Landing hasn’t dulled your edge in all this politicking?”

“King’s Landing has taught me that sharper edges are often hidden behind polished words,” you counter, meeting his smirk with one of your own. “But some things remain constant, no matter how much time has passed.”

There’s a flicker of something in Daemon’s eyes—approval, perhaps—but he gives nothing more than a faint nod. The moment stretches as if both of you are waiting for the other to strike first, but the tension is cut by the sound of more footsteps entering the throne room.

Alicent appears, resplendent in her green gown, with Aegon and Aemond trailing just behind her. They take their places beside you, Alicent’s presence a quiet assurance amidst the charged atmosphere. Her eyes briefly meet Rhaenyra’s—a mixture of cordiality and something more guarded passing between them.

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts back to you, her expression tight. “All this—Vaemond’s petition, this charade in court—is unnecessary. Corlys has already named Luke as his heir. This is nothing more than a farce driven by Vaemond’s ambition and desperation.”

You hold her gaze steadily, the words she speaks true, but there’s a bitterness beneath the surface that neither of you can quite hide. “Rhaenyra, you know as well as I do that perception is as powerful as truth in the eyes of the court. Vaemond’s claims are not without support among those who see blood over words. He’s leveraged the uncertainty surrounding Corlys’s health to rally those who resent the decree Viserys made years ago.”

“Resentment or ambition, it hardly matters,” Rhaenyra counters, her voice hardening. “Luke is Corlys’s chosen heir. This is nothing more than a blatant attempt to undermine our family, to sow discord in favor of personal gain.”

Before you can respond, Aemond’s cool voice cuts through the tension. “And yet, the matter has been brought before the court. The Driftwood Throne is more than just a seat; it represents the stability of our alliances and the power of the Velaryon fleet. Vaemond knows this well.”

Aegon shifts beside his brother, clearly eager to speak, but there’s an undercurrent of caution in his posture. “Let them debate the bloodlines and the claims. It’s all they seem to care about. But it’s our family’s unity that hangs in the balance.”

Alicent’s hand subtly rests on Aegon’s arm, a silent encouragement to temper his words. You can feel her worry radiating beside you, though she remains composed. “We cannot afford to be careless,” she adds, her voice steady. “The lords and ladies of the court are watching closely, each with their own interests at heart. We must tread carefully, especially with those like Vaemond, who are prepared to exploit any perceived weakness.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softens only slightly, the strain of years apart visible in the lines around her eyes. “I don’t want this to tear us further apart, brother. The realm needs stability, not more division. But it feels as though every step I take, every decision I make, is met with suspicion.”

You take a breath, weighing your words carefully. “Rhaenyra, I never wished for distance between us, nor did I want our paths to diverge as they have. But the choices we make carry consequences—sometimes ones we never intend. I want to believe that we can still find a way forward, even with everything that stands between us.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow slightly, watching you with a calculating gaze. He’s never been one to shy away from conflict, but even he seems to recognize that this moment is a delicate one.

Before anything further can be said, Alicent’s attention shifts as she catches sight of movement near the entrance. “It seems our guests have arrived.”

The doors swing open again, and in walk Princess Rhaenys and Lord Vaemond Velaryon, their presence commanding attention. Vaemond’s expression is one of grim determination, while Rhaenys’s gaze remains neutral, though there’s an underlying tension in the way she holds herself.

You sigh inwardly, the weight of what’s to come pressing heavily on your shoulders. “I must welcome them,” you say quietly, though the words feel more like a duty than a choice. 

With a final glance at Alicent and your children, you steel yourself, ready to face whatever storm this day may bring.

The throne room is filled with an air of tension so thick it nearly suffocates, a place where every word and glance carries the weight of the realm’s future. You sit in front of the Iron Throne, flanked by your family—Alicent at your side, with Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron standing proudly beside you. Otto stands as a silent sentinel to your left, his expression carefully neutral but his calculating mind undoubtedly working behind those cold eyes.

This is your trial to preside over, not his.

Vaemond Velaryon stands before the court, his expression carved from stone, his voice carrying the authority of a man with righteous conviction. “I speak plainly because this matter is not one of politics, but of truth! The Driftwood Throne is a legacy that cannot be tainted by a lie. Lucerys Velaryon is no true Velaryon. He carries no blood of our house—he is not the son of Laenor Velaryon!”

Murmurs ripple through the gathered lords and ladies, some leaning in, eager to witness the drama unfold. Vaemond’s words are like daggers thrown across the room, aimed directly at Rhaenyra and her children. You can see the steel in her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line as she holds her composure. Daemon stands beside her, eyes narrowing at the offense, but he remains still, his calculating mind no doubt waiting for the right moment to strike.

You raise a hand to silence the room, your voice calm but firm. “Lord Vaemond, you’ve made your case. But it is not solely yours to decide. Princess Rhaenys, as the wife of Lord Corlys and the one who has stood by his side through every battle and storm, you have the most voice in this matter. Speak now, for the realm listens.”

Rhaenys steps forward, her presence commanding respect. Dressed in the deep blacks and reds of her house, she carries the pride of House Velaryon on her shoulders, yet her expression remains inscrutable. You watch her closely, knowing that her words will determine more than just the fate of Driftmark—they will shape alliances and define loyalties.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she begins, her voice clear and unwavering. “It is true that my lord husband is gravely injured and unable to speak for himself. But before he took ill, he made his wishes clear. He named Lucerys as his heir. My husband’s word is law on Driftmark, and I intend to honor it.”

Vaemond shifts uncomfortably, but remains silent for now.

Rhaenys continues, her gaze moving to Rhaenyra before settling on you. “Furthermore, Princess Rhaenyra has proposed a union—one that would not only preserve the legacy of House Velaryon but strengthen it. She has offered her son, Lucerys, to wed my granddaughter, Rhaena. A match I wholeheartedly support.”

The court stirs at this revelation. You feel the weight of Rhaenys’s decision pressing against your chest. Her words do more than just confirm Lucerys’s claim—they solidify Rhaenyra’s position in this fight. The offer to wed Rhaena to Lucerys would ensure that Driftmark remains in Velaryon hands, through Laena’s trueborn daughter. It’s a maneuver as brilliant as it is decisive. Rhaenys has thrown her support behind Rhaenyra in a way that cannot be easily countered.

You pause, considering the ramifications. Your eyes briefly meet Rhaenyra’s, searching for some sign of what she’s truly feeling beneath her stoic mask. She knows the significance of Rhaenys’s declaration; it’s more than just the inheritance of Driftmark—it’s a public alignment of houses, a strengthening of her line.

Just as you’re about to speak, Vaemond’s voice rises again, sharper now, with barely concealed fury. “This is an insult! A mockery of our house! You may support these... false heirs, but I will not allow Driftmark to be handed over to bastards!”

The word hangs in the air, searing through the room like a brand. A cold silence falls, eyes darting between you and Vaemond. Even Otto’s composed mask slips slightly, his eyes narrowing at the brazenness of Vaemond’s outburst. You feel a ripple of anger stir within you, a flame that you must keep controlled, for it would be too easy to let it consume you here.

Daemon steps forward, his smile a dangerous thing as he drawls, “Say it again, Vaemond. Go on.” His hand rests casually on the hilt of his blade, the invitation clear.

You rise from your seat, your gaze locking onto Vaemond with the weight of a dragon’s stare. The silence that follows is heavy, the tension crackling like lightning in the air. The audacity of his words echoes through the chamber—bastards. A line has been crossed, and everyone knows it.

“Enough,” you command, your voice low but resonant, silencing the whispers that had begun to stir among the lords and ladies. “You forget yourself, Lord Vaemond.”

Vaemond’s face twists with fury, but he stands defiant, unwilling to yield. “Your Grace, I only speak the truth that everyone here knows but dares not voice! Driftmark is the seat of House Velaryon, a house built on blood and salt. That blood should flow true, and Lucerys Velaryon carries none of it! The realm cannot be governed by lies and pretenses.”

You take a step forward, your presence a shadow over the defiant lord. “You speak of truth, but your truth is tainted by ambition and grievance. Driftmark’s future is a matter for Lord Corlys’s bloodline, and it has been decided by the one who holds that legacy. Princess Rhaenys has spoken clearly on her husband’s wishes and on the betrothal that will secure Driftmark’s future.”

Rhaenys’s head lifts, her expression one of quiet strength. It is a rare thing for the ‘Queen Who Never Was’ to publicly choose a side so explicitly, and in doing so, she has thrown the full weight of House Velaryon behind Rhaenyra and her children.

But Vaemond is not done. His eyes blaze with a dangerous mix of pride and desperation. “And you would have us swallow this pretense, this farce? I will not see my house’s name sullied for the sake of politics!”

Rhaenyra’s expression is a careful mask, but you know her well enough to see the tension coiled beneath the surface. Her sons stand rigid, their youth apparent in how they strain to keep composed, particularly Lucerys, whose gaze keeps darting toward you as if searching for some semblance of reassurance. You can feel Alicent’s eyes on you as well, a silent plea for this matter to end without bloodshed.

You straighten, feeling the weight of the crown’s authority settle around your shoulders. “This is not about what you will or will not see, Lord Vaemond. The decision is not yours to make.” You look to the gathered lords and ladies, letting your words carry across the room. “House Velaryon’s seat belongs to Lucerys Velaryon, named by Lord Corlys and affirmed by his lady wife. This court upholds that decision.”

There’s a murmur of agreement among some of the gathered lords, though others shift uncomfortably, clearly aligning themselves more with Vaemond’s view, whether they dare voice it or not. Vaemond’s defiance hardens into something bitter, his eyes flicking briefly toward Daemon, who remains a silent sentinel, the edge of his smile dangerous.

“Lucerys Velaryon is not a true Velaryon,” Vaemond growls, his voice rising with barely-contained rage. “He is—”

“Say it,” Daemon’s voice slices through the air like a dagger, his smile cold, daring Vaemond to cross that final line for the last time.

For a moment, it looks as if Vaemond might take the bait, the word trembling on his lips, but the air is thick with unspoken threats. You can see the flicker of fear in his eyes, a recognition that his next words could cost him more than just this claim. He hesitates, but the anger does not fade.

“The truth is plain,” Vaemond finally says, quieter now but no less venomous. “You can wrap it in silks and gold, but it remains a lie.”

Your patience wears thin. “Your passion is noted, Lord Vaemond, but you would do well to remember where you stand and who you address.” You glance at Rhaenyra, who remains poised despite the insults cast her way, then back at Vaemond. “This court has rendered its judgment. The matter is settled.”

The finality in your tone leaves no room for further argument. Vaemond clenches his jaw, his fists trembling at his sides, but he knows he’s lost. His pride is wounded, and though he has supporters among the court, none will openly defy the crown’s decision. He gives you a look filled with loathing, and for a heartbeat, you think he might lash out.

Before anything can escalate, Alicent steps forward, her presence bringing a calming effect, if only briefly. “This matter is closed,” she says with cool authority, echoing your decree. “The realm must look forward, not cling to the past.”

You nod, turning your attention back to the court. “The feast tonight will be held in honor of family and unity. I expect all to attend.” You emphasize the word family, knowing it holds different meanings for those gathered. Your gaze lingers on Rhaenyra and her children, then back to Vaemond, whose seething gaze is impossible to ignore.

Vaemond’s face is twisted with barely-restrained fury, but he bows stiffly. “As you command, Your Grace.”

The lords and ladies begin to disperse, the unrest easing as conversations shift to safer topics. But the undercurrents of unease remain. Alliances have been made clearer, but new fissures have formed as well.

As the court disperses, you catch Rhaenyra’s gaze. There’s a gratitude there, mingled with sadness, a recognition of the unspoken rift that still lies between you. “Thank you, brother,” she says softly when she approaches, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and weariness.

You nod, offering a small, strained smile. “For now, let us put aside the politics and remember that we are family.”

Rhaenyra inclines her head, and though the words are spoken with good intent, there’s a heaviness that neither of you can ignore. The politics of blood, inheritance, and loyalty remain like shadows between you.

As Rhaenyra and Daemon leave the throne room with their children, you feel Alicent’s hand lightly rest on your arm. “You did well,” she says softly, her gaze searching yours for any trace of what you’re truly feeling.

You give a faint nod, but the weariness of the day weighs heavily on your mind. “Perhaps. But this is only the beginning. There are storms yet to come.”

Alicent’s eyes flicker with concern, but she remains composed. “Then we will face them together, as we always have.”

With that, you steel yourself for the next gathering—the feast, where smiles will hide sharpened knives and toasts will be laced with hidden meanings.

The Great Hall is aglow with the warmth of countless candles, their light reflecting off the polished silver goblets and rich tapestries lining the walls. The air is thick with the aromas of roasted meats, spiced wine, and the subtle sweetness of honeyed fruits. At the head of the table, King Viserys sits, smiling broadly, the years of weariness lifted, if only for tonight. His eyes, though dulled by age and illness, sparkle with the joy of seeing his family gathered together—just as he has always dreamed.

You sit to his right, with Alicent beside you, her presence a quiet, steadying force. Your children—Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron—are arranged around you, each reflecting the shared Targaryen and Hightower legacies. Across the table, Rhaenyra sits with Daemon, their children—Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Baela, and Rhaena—filling the seats beside them. For once, the invisible line that has divided you all seems to blur, softened by the promise of reconciliation that hangs in the air.

Viserys raises his goblet, his voice trembling but rich with emotion. “To family,” he declares, looking first at you, then at Rhaenyra, his gaze lingering with unspoken hope. “We have all weathered many storms, but tonight, let us put aside our differences and remember the ties that bind us. Blood is what unites us, and that is stronger than any quarrel.”

You lift your goblet, meeting Rhaenyra’s gaze from across the table. There’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes, a reflection of the shared memories from when you were younger—before ambition and politics built walls between you. “To family,” you echo, letting your voice carry across the hall.

“To family,” Rhaenyra agrees, her voice softer, but sincere. The tension that usually clings to her words is absent, replaced by a genuine desire to find common ground. Daemon follows suit with a small nod, raising his goblet, though his eyes never lose their sharpness.

The others join in the toast, and for the first time in a long while, there’s a shared sense of unity at the table. The feast begins, and conversation flows more easily than you had expected. Laughter echoes, and even some of the past hurts seem to fade as old stories are shared, tales from when you and Rhaenyra were children, and the world was simpler.

Aegon, emboldened by the good cheer, leans toward Jacaerys with a grin. “So, cousin, when do we finally see if your swordplay has improved? Or are you still hiding behind the idea of ‘diplomacy’?” There’s a teasing lilt to his words, but it’s free of malice.

Jacaerys chuckles, accepting the challenge with grace. “Any time you wish, Aegon. Perhaps tomorrow, in the yard? I could use the exercise.”

Aegon laughs, and for once, it’s genuine. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Nearby, Helaena leans close to Rhaena, showing her a small, delicate beetle she’s been keeping. “This one’s new. I found it in the gardens this morning. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Rhaena’s face lights up with interest. “It is! You’ll have to show me where you find them. Perhaps we can look together tomorrow?”

Aemond, ever observant, listens as Daemon regales Daeron with stories of old Valyria, his tone as dramatic as ever. “You mustn’t rely only on strength, young prince,” Daemon advises with a sly smile. “There’s more power in a sharp mind than a sharp blade, though it’s best to wield both.”

As the night progresses, the atmosphere becomes lighter, laughter filling the hall. You notice Rhaenyra watching you, and when your eyes meet, she offers a tentative smile. There’s a pause, a moment where neither of you speaks, but the silence is full of unspoken words—regret, apology, and perhaps most importantly, a desire to heal what’s been broken.

“Brother,” she finally says, her voice tinged with emotion. “I’ve missed this—us, being together. I know there have been… difficulties, but I hope we can start anew.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the sincerity in her words. The distance between you hasn’t been easy, and the weight of your past grievances still lingers, but you find yourself nodding. “I’ve missed it too, Rhaenyra. We’ve both made mistakes, but we’re stronger together. Let’s try to move forward—for our family, for our father.”

Viserys beams at this exchange, his hand trembling as he lifts it to wipe away a tear. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. For all of us to be united, to leave behind the bitterness of the past.”

Alicent watches this with a soft smile, her hand slipping into yours beneath the table. “This is what he’s longed for,” she whispers. “You’ve given him peace, if only for tonight.”

As the meal continues, the tension that once plagued these gatherings begins to dissipate. Rhaenyra and Alicent exchange kind words, complimenting each other’s children. Daemon, though still carrying his usual edge, seems content to keep his barbs light, focusing more on keeping the mood lifted than on stirring the pot. Even Aemond, usually so guarded, appears more at ease, his exchanges with Jacaerys and Lucerys devoid of the usual undercurrents of rivalry.

At one point, Rhaenyra lifts her goblet again, a more private toast this time. “To new beginnings,” she says, looking at you with hope.

You smile, raising your own goblet in kind. “To new beginnings.”

The night stretches on, and for once, it feels as though the past might truly be put behind you. The bonds of family, strained though they’ve been, begin to mend. The ghosts of old wounds fade into the background as laughter, warmth, and shared memories take center stage.

Viserys, exhausted but happy, leans back in his chair, his hand resting on yours as he closes his eyes, a contented smile on his lips. “This… this is how it should always be,” he murmurs.

And for that night, at least, it is. Family, love, and unity win out, and the weight of the crown feels a little lighter.

From the Chronicles of King Y/N Targaryen I, The Reign of the Unified Flame

From “Fire and Blood: A History of House Targaryen” by Archmaester Melys:

Upon the passing of King Viserys I in the year 129 AC, the realm held its breath, fearing that the simmering tensions within House Targaryen would ignite into the civil war prophesied by many. But where the histories might have diverged into bloodshed and ruin, they instead tell a tale of unity and wise rule under King Y/N Targaryen, the Heir of Dragonstone, who ascended the Iron Throne as Y/N I, known to later generations as “Y/N the Peacemaker” and “The King of Balance.”

Though many lords whispered of conflict, it was King Y/N’s first decree that set the tone for his reign. Gathering his family—Queen Alicent, Princess Rhaenyra, and their respective children—he held council not in the Red Keep, but atop Dragonstone, the ancient seat of House Targaryen. There, in the shadow of their ancestors and the elder dragons, they swore an oath of unity before gods and men. It is said that Prince Daemon himself, ever the rogue, was the first to lay down his blade, pledging his loyalty to his nephew. With that, the seeds of war were quelled, and the Dance of Dragons was averted.

High Speton Eustace credits King Y/N’s wisdom and firm hand for this peace, stating, “His Majesty’s reign was marked by clarity of vision and an understanding that compromise is often the sharpest weapon.” Mushroom, in his typically bawdy accounts, attributes the peace to the deep affection between the King and Queen Alicent, jesting that, “It was her gentle whispers at night and not the threats of swords that kept the realm from tearing itself apart.”

Under King Y/N’s rule, Westeros saw another golden era of peace and prosperity. His approach to governance combined the fiery decisiveness of his Targaryen blood with a measured balance that many compared to his mother, Queen Aemma Arryn. The king’s court was diverse and inclusive; Princess Rhaenyra was granted full authority over the small council alongside her brother, with the Velaryons remaining staunch allies after the successful betrothal of Lucerys Velaryon to Rhaena Targaryen. Driftmark’s legacy was secured without further bloodshed, ensuring that the sea lanes of Westeros remained open and secure.

King Y/N’s family played a crucial role in his reign. His children with Queen Alicent grew into respected figures in their own right. Aegon, though restless in his youth, became a trusted commander, leading the royal navy in expeditions to Essos that solidified trade routes. Aemond, despite the loss of his eye, was known as “The Iron Shield,” a prince famed for his discipline and loyalty, who often served as Hand of the King when his father took to Dragonstone for respite. Helaena’s prophecies, often dismissed in earlier years, became valued by the court, guiding many decisions with a wisdom that bordered on the mystical. Daeron, the youngest, was known as the people’s prince, a bridge between nobility and common folk, fostering goodwill in the Reach and beyond.

The reign of King Y/N I was not without its trials. The Ironborn rose in rebellion more than once, but swift action by Aemond and Daemon in a rare alliance quickly subdued the threat. The Riverlands also saw unrest when Lord Grover Tully’s ambitions threatened to spill into open conflict, but the King’s deft diplomacy resolved the dispute before it could escalate.

Even so, the unity within House Targaryen remained the cornerstone of Y/N’s reign. It is said that Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent, once rivals after their marriages, grew back into a friendship they shared in their youth, sharing their roles as matriarchs to an ever-growing brood of dragonlords. Mushroom—never one to miss an opportunity for scandal—claims that their peace was ensured by shared interests in a secretive cabal of noblewomen, but wiser heads discount this as the jester’s usual mischief.

King Y/N’s dragons also played a vital role in securing his legacy. His bond with Dallax, the Night Fury, became legendary. Dallax, with his black scales and green eyes, was a fearsome sight in battle, but it was his presence at royal negotiations that often quelled rebellious lords before blood could be spilled. The dragon’s reputation as both guardian and enforcer of the realm added to the mystique of King Y/N’s rule. 

In 143 AC, King Y/N I presided over the Grand Council at Harrenhal, where matters of succession and law were codified, ensuring stability for generations to come. It was there that his wisdom was most evident; by balancing the interests of all regions and houses, he secured peace in the realm without resorting to brute force. When the Maester's Conclave reviewed the royal lineage in later years, it was agreed by many that King Y/N’s efforts had preserved not just the peace but the very legacy of House Targaryen.

Mushroom’s final words on the reign of King Y/N are perhaps the most fitting. “In an age where dragons danced upon the edge of war, it took not just a dragonrider, but a man who saw the value in holding back the flame, to keep the realm whole. Where others would have chosen fire and blood, he chose balance, and in doing so, left behind a reign that many would envy.”

King Y/N Targaryen I passed away in the year 150 AC, leaving behind a legacy of unity, prosperity, and a realm spared the horrors of civil war. His children carried forth his wisdom, and under their guidance, Westeros thrived in an era known as the “Second Golden Age.” And thus, the realm’s history turned, not on a dance of dragons, but on a single king’s steadfast resolve to keep his family—and his realm—united.

[yrluvjane]

Dilf!james watching you wait for Harry while he's at the store and flirts with you but when you hear the car pull up he speeds off and you don't get caught!(if u don't wanna it's totally fine bc I could use your writing any day and even if it's not my request it's amazing)

-🪳

Bringing back dilf!James? Pfft, you're welcome to request and ask anytime!

Pt.2

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the quiet suburban street with you standing by the porch, waiting for Harry to return from his quick trip to the store. The soft hum of bees and the distant chirping of birds created a peaceful ambience.

James Potter, the ever-dashing epitome of expected-unexpected chaos and father of your best friend, sauntered over with that trademark 'Potter-grin' of his. His hair was perfectly tousled, and he had that twinkle in his eye that always made your heart race, that twinkle that both he and his son shared - the one that told you they were up to something.

"Fancy seeing you here," James said, leaning casually against the porch railing. His voice was smooth, almost like a purr, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Mmmh, seems like we always run into each other at these moments," you replied with feigned suprise.

James chuckled at that, his eyes raking over you in a way that made your skin tingle. "Must be fate, don’t you think?"

Laughing softly, you shook your head. "Or maybe you're just very particular with your timings, Mr. Potter."

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking. "Maybe," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. "Or maybe I just enjoy our little moments." Your heart skipped a beat as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"And it’s James."

"James," you whispered in both warning and yearning, torn between wanting to lean into his touch and the nagging voice in your head, reminding you of Harry's imminent return.

He seemed to read your mind, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Relax, love. Just enjoying the view."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure. You took a deep breath, "Oh, really? And what exactly are you viewing?"

"Well," he said, leaning in closer, "I see a very intriguing and breath-taking individual. Someone who clearly enjoys these little games as much as I do."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You are impossible, you know that?"

He shrugged, his grin widening. "Impossible to resist, maybe."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach. "Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"

"Every night," he replied with a wink. "Helps me sleep like a baby."

"Must be nice," you teased. "I bet Professor Remus has to put up with a lot."

He sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Remus is a saint; he knew what he was getting into." You both laughed, and it was moments like these that made you forget the boundaries, the lines you shouldn’t cross.

And then he'd say something like this..

James stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, if things were different…"

The sound of a car engine in the distance made you both freeze. James glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"That’ll be Harry," he said, his tone abruptly shifting from playful to serious. He gave you one last lingering look, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "Until next time."

And just like that, he was gone. He moved swiftly and with the grace of someone much younger, disappearing around the corner just as Harry’s car pulled into the driveway. You tried to steady your breath, your heart still pounding from the encounter.

Harry stepped out of the car, smiling as he walked up to you. "Sorry that took so long. Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips. "Nope, nothing at all."

As Harry wrapped you in a hug, you couldn’t help but glance in the direction James had vanished.

You both walked inside, chatting about Harry's trip to the store. As you stepped into the kitchen, you froze. There, sitting at the table with a mug of tea, was James. He raised his hand in a playful shush motion, a cheeky grin on his face.

Harry didn't seem to notice your surprise. "Oh, hey, Dad. Didn't know you were here."

James took a sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just popped in for a quick visit from work. Thought I'd keep you company."

You bit your lip to suppress a laugh, shaking your head slightly as James winked at you over the rim of his mug, making your heart flutter all over again.

[serpentandlily]

Wicked Games III

Wicked Games - Dark!BatBoys x Reader

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU)

Warnings: smut (minors dni pls), dubcon, dark themes (if you would like more in depth warnings before reading, feel free to message me!)

a/n: Thank you so much for all the love/kind words you guys have left me regarding this series! I know I'm shit at replying to comments but I do read them all and they def warm my cold lil heart. Hope you guys enjoy this one ;)

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

༺♥༻

Part III

༺♥༻

A week had gone by with no word from Rhysand, something that both relieved and also frightened you. You were still embarrassed about that night at the club with them. You had let them touch you, had let them bring you so close to the edge. In public too. As soon as Rhysand had dropped you back off at your apartment that night, you felt mortified. 

Still, the silence this week had put you on edge. Every noise made you jump, everywhere you went you looked over your shoulder constantly. 

Either Rhysand had considered your debt to him paid, or this was another mind game to him. He hadn’t even texted you. And it wasn’t like you could text him. No number had shown up the last time he had texted you.

You were left in a state of limbo and you should’ve felt peace at his lack of a presence in your life, but it was only the opposite. 

You were currently curled up in your bed, watching a show on your small laptop before your shift tonight, when a knock at your door had you almost throwing the laptop across the room.

You swallowed audibly, your pulse spiking. Fuck, was it Rhysand? Had your devil in disguise returned?

“Bunny, open up,” Tamlin shouted through the door. “It’s me.”

Shit. Fucking shit. You forgot that you still owed your ex money, money you were meant to get to him this week. Now part of you was wishing it was Rhysand at your door. 

You got up from the bed and opened the door to see Tamlin before you, a hand resting against the top of the doorframe and a grin on his face. 

You watched as his green eyes darted behind you, looking into your apartment as if he were checking for something before they returned to your face. He brushed past you into the apartment despite your noise of protest. You closed the door behind you and rested against it, crossing your arms. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said. And you meant it. If you were still being watched and a male was seen coming into your apartment, chances are he’d end up dead. “I don’t have your money yet.”

Tamlin raised a brow. “That’s what I’m here to talk about. Do you want to tell me why I got a personal visit from the Shadow this week who paid off your debt to me in full?”

Your eyes widened in shock. That was not at all what you were expecting him to say. “I’m sorry, what?”

Tamlin roamed around your apartment, picking up random trinkets and stuff thrown about. “You heard me correctly. One of Rhysand’s dogs came and paid off your debt. And I heard a rumor that you were seen with Rhysand himself at his night club. Do you want to explain that too?”

You bristled at his tone. You didn’t belong to him anymore. He had no right demanding information from you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Shouldn’t you be happy that you were paid?”

Tamlin scoffed, turning to face you. “So it’s true then? You’re whoring yourself out to Rhysand of all people? Gods, bunny, I knew you were stupid but this…this is truly idiotic.”

You clenched your fists in anger. You released a long breath, trying to maintain your composure. “Tam, I think you should leave. If my debt is paid off then we have nothing to talk about.”

“Like hell we do,” he snapped at you. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all week long. Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

“I got a new phone,” you replied. “Sorry.”

He sighed and held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket and handed it over. It was easier to just do as he said instead of arguing about it. It would get him out of your apartment faster too.

His eyes widened as he looked at the new iPhone but then narrowed. “How the hell were you able to afford this?”

He grabbed it and started entering his number. “It was a gift.”

He scoffed again, sending himself a text from your phone. “So is that why you broke up with me? Was I not rich enough for you? Decided to go suck the dick of a felon for more money?”

“I really think it’s time for you to go now.” You glared at him, ripping your phone out of his hand. “For your own good.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, pushing you out of the way to storm from your apartment. “Don’t try calling me to bail you out of jail once you get caught fucking Rhysand.”

He slammed the door behind him, rattling the walls. You rolled your eyes just as your phone dinged.

Unknown: I take it by the look on Tamlin’s beastly face that you didn’t let him fuck you? 

You: Still watching me? Why don’t you go find a new hobby to partake in?  Unknown: Why would I do that when I get so much pleasure from watching you without you knowing where I am?

A picture was sent a second later. A blurry shot of you inside of your apartment in just your underwear. You let out a curse.

You: Fucking pervert.  Unknown: If I’m a pervert, then what does that make you, little mouse? You were ready to come all over my lap in the middle of a club. Or did you already forget about that?

Fuck no you hadn’t forgot about that. It was all you thought about late at night. That desire, the hot feeling of their hands on you, the pulsating music and lights. 

You: Fuck you

You made sure to add the emoji of a middle finger to the end of that message. 

Unknown: Oh you will, little mouse, you will. You: Like I said, you’re delusional and sick in the head if you think I’ll ever want any part of you. Unknown: Oh, little mouse, you have no idea just how sick I am. But you will find out. Be ready by 8pm tomorrow night. And wear that little black dress again. It’d be a shame if I never had the chance to rip it off you. 

You sent him the emoji of a middle finger again before tossing your phone down on your bed. You were not ready for another night with him…with them. Not when the need for all three of them still burned inside of you.

༺♥༻

It was a black SUV that was waiting outside for you this time. Azriel hadn't come to get you at your door either. The driver opened the backseat door for you and you slid in, noting it was just Rhysand waiting for you inside.

He gave you a feline grin, his eyes raking over your body, clearly pleased with what he saw. 

"Where are you taking me this time?"

You didn't waste any time with a greeting. Rhys raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for something. You rolled your eyes when you realized what.

"Where are you taking me this time, sir?" you spat out. 

"I'm attending a personal event tonight and I need a date."

"So is this how repaying my debt to you is going to work? Just act as your escort until you decide I've repaid you? I'm sure you can find another girl willing to accompany you for free."

He smirked at you, throwing his arm over the back of the seats, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch and by the glint in his eyes, you knew he had felt it. 

"It's cute that you think this has anything to do with a debt you owe me, darling."

You crossed your arms with a huff, "Then what the fuck else does it have to do with?" 

"Such a filthy mouth," he chided. "I already told you, little mouse. You were mine from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I gave you a week of freedom, but don't get any ideas, darling. You are mine and I will do whatever I want with you." 

"I am not yours." 

"And you think I'm the delusional one." 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was such an arrogant prick. Before you could reply, the car stopped and the driver interrupted their conversation.

"Sir, we are at our destination." 

The driver stepped out of the car, opening the door for you. Rhysand came around the other side of the car and held out his hand for you. You begrudgingly took it. 

Rhysand gave the driver a dip of the head. "Thank you, Charles." 

You were standing in front of a large mansion, servants already waiting at the door to open it as you two walked up the front steps. Rhysand dipped his head at the servants as you passed and the sound of chattering became more clear once you stepped through the threshold. 

A slinky looking male walked up to greet you. He was handsome, if not for the pinched look on his face, with light blonde hair and pale skin. 

"Rhysand, so glad you could make it tonight," the male said, sounding anything but pleased.

"Keir," Rhysand greeted back. "I would never dream of missing one of your parties."

Keir, you had heard that name before. He was the mayor of Hewn City. Surprisingly, this was your first time ever seeing him. 

The sarcasm in his voice was evident. If Rhysand didn't want to be here, then why had he come? It didn't seem like this Keir guy wanted him here either. 

"And who might this be?" 

Keir's eyes roamed over you, making your insides curl with disgust. 

"This is y/n," Rhysand said. "My fiance."

What. The. Fuck.

He was lucky you hadn't grabbed one of the champagne flutes being passed around by servants or the wine would've sprayed out of your mouth. Why the fuck would he call you that?

Keir's eyes lingered on your hand. "Hm, no ring for the beautiful lady?"

"It's being custom made as we speak." Rhysand grinned, dangerously. "But I got ahead of myself and proposed without it. It was hard not to when she looks like this, wouldn't you agree? Didn't want her to get snatched up by some other male."  

“Of course, congratulations,” Keir agreed, though it sounded anything but friendly. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some other guests I have yet to greet. Please, enjoy my party.”

You let out the breath you were holding in as the male disappeared into the crowd. Your eyes instantly shot to Rhys. 

“What the hell was that?” you hissed under your breath. “Why did you introduce me as your fucking fiancé?”

“Not here, darling,” he answered with a grin, his eyes darting around to the people surrounding you.

He led you through the crowd, occasionally saying a greeting to those he recognized. Many eyes followed after him, you noticed, then lingered on you. You were met with more jealous stares from other women than you could count. 

Rhysand pushed a champagne flute into your hands but you noticed he didn’t have one for himself. “Drink, darling, relax. We are here to be stared at, enjoy it.”

“You don’t seem to like Keir all that much,” you whispered to him, sipping on the champagne. “So why bother coming?”

“Because, Keir likes to believe that he has full control over his shitfilled little city and I like to remind him who is really in charge every once in a while.”

“Watch it,” you grumbled. “I live in that ‘shitfilled little city.’”

Rhysand leaned down, his breath brushing against your ear. “Not after tonight, you don’t.” 

You glanced up at him. “What?”

But he stood back to his full height and said nothing else, eyes looking over the people still staring at the two of you. You felt your cheeks turn a bit red at all the attention. 

You were silent as you finished your glass of champagne, placing it on the empty tray of one of the staff members walking by once it was empty. 

As soon as you were done, Rhysand linked his hand with yours again. 

“I think we’ve been seen enough. Come, there is something I wish to show you.”

You followed him out of the crowd and away from the main room. You soaked in the beautiful paintings and rich decor as he led you down an empty corridor and into a conservatory. 

Your eyes widened as you spun around, glancing at the ornate room. Flowers of all shapes and sizes were spread everywhere, along with a few chaises and armchairs. The windowed ceiling and walls let you see the night sky, the stars glimmering above you. 

It was something you had only seen in magazines and movies. It was stunning, beautiful. You turned to face Rhysand to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his handsome face. 

Your cheeks turned a bit pink, causing his smile to turn into a grin. He sunk down onto one of the chairs and tugged on your hips until you were sitting on his lap. The familiar position from the club already had your blood turning to fire. 

“I hate the man,” Rhys started. “But Gods, he does have one of the best views of the stars.” 

You looked up again, agreeing. One of Rhysand’s large hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you back to his hard chest while the other rested on one of your thighs. 

“Are you going to tell me why you told him I was your fiancé now?” you asked as his fingers began to rub circles on your waist. 

“Because you are,” Rhysand murmured, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “I told you, little mouse, you are mine. I intend to make you my wife because I am never going to let you go now that I’ve found you.” 

You were fucked in the head. Seriously. Because his kiss and his words caused heat to start coiling in your lower stomach. 

“You truly are insane,” you whispered.

And he was. Rhysand was one giant, walking red flag. But you had never had good taste in men anyways. 

“Am I?” he whispered back.

He kissed your shoulder again before moving up your neck to your jaw. Your breath hitched as his finger grazed the underside of your breast. He smiled against your skin, pulling you even closer. 

“You know, I’ve been watching you all week long to see if you would follow my rules,” he murmured, huskily. “And darling, you have been a very, very good girl.”

You arched into his touch now, gasping as his hand trailed up your ribcage to brush against your breast. You should really be putting a stop to this. But…fuck it. It was a hot being in the hands of such a powerful man.

His hand continued its journey until it wrapped around the front of your throat.

“And good girls deserve to be rewarded,” he purred into your ear. “Don’t you think?”

His other hand pushed your thighs open and you swallowed audibly. Your eyes darted to the door leading into the conservatory where anyone could walk through. 

You needed to put a stop to this. “Rhysand, someone could walk in at any moment.” 

The hand that was resting on your throat gripped you by the chin instead and turned your head to look up at him. His pupils were blown, his pretty violet eyes now a dangerous black. His gaze darted between your own eyes and lips, hungrily.

“They all know better than to follow me, darling,” he said. 

His hand hiked your dress up to your hips and you caught his wrist. “W-What are you doing?”

He shrugged off your grip. “Relax, little mouse. Let me take care of you.”

Your skin was flushed with desire, a whimper escaping your lips as he stroked your clothed center. He pushed your thighs further apart and you let him, cursing yourself in your head. 

“That’s it, darling,” he praised. “Take your reward like the good girl you are.”

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your thong and began to drag it down your thighs. 

“Really, Rhysand, s-someone could come in,” your voice cracked as he dragged your thong all the way down your leg and over your black stilettos before sliding it into his pocket. 

Despite your protest, you did little to stop him. Didn’t even close your legs. You were a fucking idiot. And you would regret it later. But for now…

A wanton moan slipped from your mouth as Rhysand’ fingers stroked your bare pussy. You ground your hips into him, gasping as you felt his hardened length beneath you. 

“I think that just turns you on even more, little mouse,” he teased, brushing his fingers against you again. Your cheeks flushed at how wet you were already. Something Rhysand seemed very pleased about.

He groaned as you shifted your hips again, digging into his hard cock. He started rubbing your clit with his fingers and you tossed your head back against his shoulder with another moan.

He kissed your exposed neck, grazing the fragile skin with his sharp canines. 

“S-stop,” you choke out. “We shouldn’t.”

His fingers left from between your thighs and you’re protesting groan went completely against what you just said. 

“Stop,” he mocked, bringing his fingers up so you could see the glistening shine on them from your arousal. He ran them down your lips, spreading the taste of yourself on them. “Does this taste like you want me to stop?” 

He shoved his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded.

It was instinctual, primal even, to listen to him. You sucked on his fingers and he let out a groan as he watched you, turning you on more. The taste of yourself covered your tongue.

He yanked his fingers free and placed them back between your legs, lightly brushing your aching center.

“Say anything other than my name and you don’t get to come,” he growled. “Do you understand?”

You bit your lip as he began to rub your clit in circles again, staring down at where his fingers were touching you.

He forced you to look up at him again, his grip on your jaw so tight you let out a pained whimper. “I said, do you understand?”

You nodded as his fingers continued their assault, leaving you panting. “Y-yes, sir.”

He gave you a devil's grin. “Good girl.”

And then his lips smashed against yours. They were soft, softer than you imagined and you eagerly kissed him back as that electric feeling continued to build and build in your lower stomach. He tilted your chin up, deepening the kiss with a growl as his fingers slipped from where they had been rubbing your clit to tease at your entrance. 

He swallowed the moan that came from you with his kiss before he suddenly thrusted one finger inside of you. You gasped in pleasure, which he took advantage of, sticking his tongue in your mouth and claiming it as his. 

You withered in his lap, grinding against his hard cock as you panted, his finger thrusting in and out of you. Your vision nearly went white as he added a second one, filling you so deliciously.

Your head fell back against his shoulders, breaking your kiss apart. “Rhys.”

He trailed kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking on your flesh. “You’re doing so good, darling. Gods, you are so tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick.”

You groaned at his lewd words, your orgasm building. 

“Rhys,” you begged, grinding your hips in rhythm with his fingers. You had been so on edge all week and thinking about that night in the club, so you knew it wouldn’t take very long to make you come around his fingers. 

“That’s it. Come for me, darling,” he purred into your ear. 

His thumb brushed against your clit and that was the final thing that tipped you over the edge. You mewled his name over and over again as your orgasm crashed through your whole body, arching into him. He kept thrusting his fingers in and out, riding you until your nails were biting into his skin. 

You fell limp in his arms as he finally pulled his fingers from you. You watched through hazy eyes as he brought them to his own lips this time and licked them clean. “Gods, you taste so good.”

You were still trying to catch your breath, letting him pull your dress back down. He admired your flushed face, your swollen lips with a grin. “See, wasn’t that so much better than being punished?”

You nodded, your eyes still hooded and Rhysand chuckled. 

“Is my little mouse tired now?” he cooed. He patted your butt, helping you stand on shaky legs. “Come, let me take you home, darling.”

He guided you out of the mansion with a hand on the back of your neck until you reached the black SUV waiting for you. Charles was there, opening the door already. Rhys helped you slide inside before coming around the other side of the car. 

He pulled you into his side, letting you rest your body against his as the car started up, and you let him, finding some comfort in his warmth. Within a few seconds of driving, you felt your eyes slowly start to shut. 

What felt like a minute later, you were jostled awake only to realize Rhysand was carrying you out of the car. You blinked, trying to wake fully but still felt so lethargic. How long had you been driving for? Keir’s

mansion hadn’t been that far from your apartment. 

“Where are we?” you slurred as Rhys pushed your head into the croak of his neck, carrying you up what seemed to be steps. 

“Home, darling,” he murmured to you. 

You didn’t think twice about his words or you might’ve realized that you had a different understanding of what that meant than he did. Only nodded and closed your eyes again, falling back into a blissful sleep.

༺♥༻

When you woke up the next day, you were met with the sight of an unfamiliar room. You jolted up, the black sheets you had been under pooling at your waist. You had no idea where you were. Your eyes darted around the huge, ornate room. 

The walls were a cream color with gold moulding.  A huge window was on the left side of the room, beautiful dark red curtains partially covering its view. You were in a four poster bed with a gauzy canopy. There were a total of three doors on the various walls, all closed except one that led into what looked like a bathroom. 

Where the hell were you? The last thing you remembered from last night was Rhysand telling you he was taking you home. But this was certainly not your home. Hell, there was no way you were even in Hewn City. You could tell by the lack of smog in the sky from the view out of the window. 

You swung your legs over the side of the bed,

rising. You frowned when you realized you were no longer wearing the dress from last night but a skimpy nightgown. The wood floor was cold under your feet as you made your way to the bathroom, happy to find a still packaged toothbrush and toothpaste. 

Once you had freshened up, you explored the other doors in the room. The first one you opened led to an empty hallway. You quickly shut it and went to the other one which opened to a walk-in closet. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the only things hanging in there. Lingerie of all types in all different colors, sheer and silk robes, and heels. 

You grumbled to yourself, grabbing one of the silk robes and putting it on over your nightgown, not that it did much to cover you more. 

You hesitantly made your way into the empty hallway, slowly walking as you listened for any signs of people. There were doors lining the walls but you didn't open them, hoping to find a living room or something of that sort instead. You must've been in a mansion because you swore the hallways seemed neverending. 

"Is that a little mouse I see scurrying around?"

You let out a noise of surprise, jumping at the loud, cheery voice that called out from behind you. You whipped around to see Cassian standing at the end of the hallway, his chest bare with his shirt thrown over his shoulder and glistening with sweat. You couldn't stop your eyes from roaming his body, his insane, god-like body. Gods, who the hell made him? 

When you met his eyes again, the grin on his face told you he knew that you had just been checking him out. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Where am I? What is this place?"

"This," Cassian chimed, "is our home, little mouse. Rhysand's mansion. Our compound. Call it what you want." 

"I thought he lived at The Sidra."

Cassian ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. "No, who the fuck would want to live in Hewn City—no offense! That is just where we do our business when it involves that city, so no one knows where we actually live." 

"Okay," you said slowly. "So where the hell are we? And why am I here?" 

“This property is so big, it’s basically its own small town. You won’t find anyone else for miles and miles, little mouse, so don’t bother running,” he winked at you. “As for why, I’ll let Rhys explain that. Speaking of, he asked me to check if you were awake and to escort you to his office.”

You begrudgingly walked to him, letting him start the course to Rhysand’s office, hoping to get some answers.

“I heard you two had quite the night, little mouse,” Cassian said, grinning down at you.

You had to admit, next to Cassian you were basically a little mouse. The male was a giant, at least a foot taller than you. But something about his demeanor made him less threatening. He seemed like the friendliest out of the three. Not as dark and foreboding as the other two. 

Your cheeks turned red as you looked away. “So Rhysand is the type to kiss and tell. How juvenile.” 

Cassian let out a laugh that made you do a double take. He was beautiful. Not as pretty as Azriel or regal as Rhysand, but equally attractive in his own way. More masculine and brutal in his beauty. 

“I’m telling him you said that,” he said. 

You shrugged your shoulders, examining the place as you walked down the hallway. Outside of the room you had been in, the rest of the place had a much more modern feel, with dark gray walls and dark flooring. 

“Here we are,” Cassian said, stopping you just before a large set of double doors. He pushed them open, gesturing at you to walk-in first like a gentleman. 

Rhysand’s office was huge. The first thing you noticed was the wall that was a window, overlooking the backyard. Rhysand was sitting at a large desk in front of it, in an armchair that resembled a throne. 

Bookshelves lined the walls, many books and expensive looking trinkets on them. On the other side of the room was a weapons rack locked behind a gated case full of guns and pistols. 

Your eyes went back to the desk, noticing now that Azriel was also in here. 

“Sleeping beauty is awake,” Cassian announced in greeting. “Found her roaming around the halls.” 

“Thank you, Cass,” Rhysand said with a dip of the head. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think it’s time I give our little friend Devlon a visit.”

Cass nodded at Rhys and stepped out of the office, closing the doors behind him. You watched him until he disappeared from view before turning back to face the other two. 

“Come here, little mouse,” Rhysand said, pointing to the empty chair that Azriel was leaning against across from him. 

You took a seat, looking at Rhysand cautiously. He was wearing a black t-shirt that showed off the black swirling tattoos on his arms, ones you hadn’t seen before. 

“Why am I here? I thought you were taking me home last night, not kidnapping me,” you snapped. 

Rhys placed his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair like a king with no crown. “You are home, darling.” 

“Stop with the bullshit, Rhysand. Take me home. Now.” 

“Like I said, little mouse, you are home. This is your home now. I won’t have my fiancé living in that squalor.” 

“I’m not your fucking fiancé! You’re psychotic! Take me home!”

“We really have to do something about that mouth, don’t you agree, Az?” Rhysand looked at the shadow that was hovering behind you. 

He must’ve nodded because Rhysand looked back down at you. 

“I’m not playing around, Rhysand,” you growled. “Take me home!”

Rhysand rose, placing his palms on the desk as he peered down at you. “And I’m not playing around either. It is not safe for you to live in Hewn City now that I’ve told Keir that you’re my fiancé.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Why on earth did you have to tell him that then? I am not your fiance. I am not your girlfriend. I am simply someone who owes you a debt that you literally met only two weeks ago.”

“I’m growing tired of this, little mouse,” Rhysand snarled, prowling around the desk until he stood before you. “I think I have made myself very clear. This has nothing to do with a debt. You are mine. Mine.”

“And I’m growing tired of you acting like you own me! I am not yours!”

“Really? Let me ask you this, little mouse. Does anybody else make your body sing the way I do? Has anyone’s touch ever turned you on fire like mine? Admit it. Your body belongs to me. All I’m missing is your heart. But that’ll soon be mine as well.” 

You felt heat creep up your neck because he was right. A simple touch from Rhysand did cause a spark inside of you that you had never even felt before. Even Cassian’s touch that night at the club had awoken something in you. Like your darkest desires had been unleashed that day and now, no other touch would compare. But you didn’t want him to know that. For your own dignity. 

“You think very highly of yourself, Rhysand,” you scoffed, looking away. 

But he had seen the color on your cheeks, had seen the darkness burning in your eyes. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. You swallowed, your eyes darting back up to his striking face. A muscle in his jaw was clenched and he rose to his full height. “You live here now. This is your home. It is not safe for you to return to your apartment and frankly, you were never safe there to begin with. I’ve already had someone retrieve the important things from your place and they are all waiting for you in your new room, the one you woke up in. You are not locked up here. I will give you a car. You may come and go, but you will always tell either me, Azriel or Cassian when you are going to leave.”

He had a point. Your neighborhood was extremely unsafe. And if people knew what you meant to Rhys, it would only put a target on your back. You cursed him in your head. This had been his plan all along. To find a reason to make you live here. 

“And what if I take the car and never come back?” you asked, staring defiantly up at him. 

He smirked. “Then I will find you and we can play this game of cat and mouse forever.” 

You bit your lip, wanting to retort but the look in his eyes, that feral, crazed looked stopped you. This was the most powerful and dangerous male in all of Prythian and you knew without a doubt that he would find you, no matter how far you ran. This beautiful, lethal male was obsessed with you…and you were fucked up for being so utterly turned on by it. 

“Did I make myself clear?” 

You nodded and he looked at you expectantly.

“Yes sir,” you grumbled. 

Just because you were agreeing, just because you were filled with craving and desire, didn’t mean you were just going to throw yourself at him. No, you would make this just as difficult as he did. 

“Good. Now get on your knees,” he commanded. 

Your eyes widened. “W-what?”

“I said get on your knees, little mouse.” 

You hated the way your body listened, falling to the floor in front of him.

“Take off my belt,” he ordered. 

You glared up at him. “Fuck you.” 

“See, that’s why you’re in trouble right now. That filthy mouth,” Rhysand growled. “Take off my belt, little mouse. Don’t make me ask you again.” 

You continued to glare at him as you reached up and started to undo his belt, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you realized he was rock hard underneath his pants. You yanked it from him roughly and he smirked as he grabbed it from you, handing it to Azriel over your head. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion as Azriel bent down on his haunches behind you. Rhysand gave him a nod of the head and suddenly, two scarred hands were grabbing your wrists and twisting them behind your back. You let out a yelp as you felt Azriel loop the belt around them, trying to shrug him off, but he was much stronger. He tightened the belt until your wrists were secured behind your back to the point of pain. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed up at Rhysand. 

Rhysand unbuttoned his pants with one hand while the other landed on your head, stroking your hair. “Teaching you another lesson, little mouse. If you want to have a filthy mouth, then I expect that you to do filthy things with that mouth.” 

He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock free. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of him, at how large he was. You had felt it against you, of course, but seeing it was different. You couldn’t help but imagine it ramming into you over and over again until you screamed. 

“Open your mouth,” he directed. 

You shook your head, pressing your lips together. 

“Open your mouth, now,” he ordered again, his voice as dark as night. You just glared up at him, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He let out a scoff and looked at Azriel who was still kneeling behind you. “Azriel.”

You didn’t know what that command meant until you felt Azriel’s hand wrap around your throat from behind. You restrained from opening your mouth and he began to squeeze and squeeze. You whimpered at the pain but kept your mouth shut until your lungs were empty of air, burning in your chest. He eased the pressure a little bit and you finally gasped for air. 

Rhysand took the opportunity to thrust his dick into your mouth, using the hand on the back of your head to guide you. You choked as he hit the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. He let out a groan, tossing his head back. 

“Come on, little mouse, suck my cock and you might get a reward yourself,” he growled.

Fuck it, you decided. If you were going to do this, you were going to completely own him like he thought he did you. You hallowed out your cheeks and flattened your tongue, bobbing your head. He hissed, his hand tangling in your hair. You ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock, pulling another groan from him. 

You glared up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks as you choked on his dick, taking him as far as you could. He started pushing your head back and forth for you, fisting your hair. You used every trick you had in your arsenal, drawing moan after moan from his mouth. 

“Fuck, darling, your mouth feels so good,” he growled.

You continued to glare at him.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. I know you’re enjoying this,” he grunted, thrusting his cock in your mouth, fucking your face as you could do nothing, not even brace yourself against his thighs with your arms held behind your back. 

You scoffed around his cock, denying his claim.

“So if Azriel were to touch you right now, he wouldn’t find your dripping with how much this turns you on?” 

You growled, causing him to groan again at the vibration. He looked at Azriel and suddenly a hand was reaching down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side and stroking your center. You moaned at the touch of his fingers, already knowing what he found. He lifted his fingers, showing off the glistening arousal coating them. 

“Thought so,” Rhysand grinned, fisting your hair even tighter. “Continue, Azriel.”

You had no idea what that meant until you felt Azriel’s fingers stroking your pussy again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rubbed circles around your clit. You were absolutely throbbing. 

Rhysand continued to thrust into your mouth, grunting as his pace quickened. “Gods, you take me so well, darling. Like your mouth was made for this cock. Fuck.” 

His dirty words only turned you on more. You could feel your own arousal dripping down the side of your thigh. Azriel’s other hand slid between your legs, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continued to rub your clit. You gasped as he slid a finger inside of you, pulling it back out slowly, and then roughly thrusting it back in. 

You were certain you had never been more turned on in your life before. Stuck between these two males, one fingering you from behind while the other used your mouth brutally. You cried as Azriel added a second finger, continuing in pace with Rhysand’s thrusts into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Rhysand snarled, his thrusts became sharper, faster. Tears were pouring from your eyes as he hit the back of your throat time and time again, making you choke on his dick. “That’s it, darling. Gods, just like that. Fuck.”

It was so hot how much control you had over Rhysand in this moment, despite the position they had put you in. He was a slave to you right now. You were the owner of his pleasure. You moaned around his dick as Azriel quickened the thrusts of his fingers inside of you. 

You felt Rhysand tightened in your mouth before he slammed your head to meet his thrust, burying his cock into your throat, chanting your name over and over. You choked as hot liquid spurted into your throat but Rhysand kept you there, his cock buried in your mouth, not letting you go. You swallowed all of his cum until the veins in his arms were protruding from the overstimulation. He finally pulled out of your mouth, letting you gasp for air. 

As soon as your mouth was free, Azriel ripped a hand away from your pussy and grabbed you by the back of the throat. He pushed you forward until your face was pressed against the ground, your ass in the air. You moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper into you while holding you down. 

“God, please,” you mewled. 

“I am no God,” Azriel growled into your ear, his voice so dark and sensual, it pushed you closer to the edge. 

His hand tightened on your throat until your vision was nearly white and your body was shaking with pleasure. You felt your orgasm building and building, pushing your hips back to meet each thrust of his fingers until you cried out his name, wave after wave of pleasure taking over your body.

He didn’t stop as you pulsated around his fingers, didn’t stop until you were crying and begging him to. Only then did he yank his fingers free. Your body went limp as you panted, his hand finally leaving your throat so you could breathe properly. 

“And that is what you get for obeying me, little mouse” Rhysand purred from above you.  

༺♥༻

The next day, Rhysand gave you a full tour of the entire place. You were blown away. There were two huge garages full of sports cars, motorcycles and SUVS. An indoor and outdoor gym. Three different pools and hottubs. A weapons room. A fancy, formal dining room along with another more intimate one. Many different rooms for meetings. An intel room full of high-tech computers and equipment. A large living room with a massive tv, fireplace and sitting area. A beautiful kitchen that was stocked with just about everything you could dream of. 

It was truly an unbelievable place. He even had gardens outside, five different gaming rooms, a lounge, four different bar set-ups. Cassian had been right when he described it as a compound. 

Once the tour was over, it had taken just a little over an hour, Rhysand led you to the kitchen to get some lunch. They also apparently had a personal chef who made all their meals. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You had been poor all your life. Had never even been to a hotel that was half as nice as this place was. 

Rhysand was explaining some of the rules they had here when Azriel and Cassian walked into the kitchen, both shirtless. Your eyes raked over their bodies, unable to stop yourself. You looked back at Rhysand to see him grinning. You scowled at him. You waited until they left before you said anything.

“Do you also make them walk around half dressed?” you gestured to your own attire. Your closet was still only full of lingerie and robes. When you had asked for clothes, Rhysand had just told you he much preferred you like this. 

“Oh no, darling, they are doing that on your behalf,” he purred. 

Your eyebrows raised. “What? On my behalf? What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, Cassian and Azriel have a bit of a bet going on.”

“What does that have to do with them hardly wearing clothes?” 

“They’re both trying to entice you, darling. The bet is for which one of them you’re going to fuck first.”

“Who says I want to fuck either of them?”

“Still playing this same game, little mouse?” He gave you a look that had your jaw clenching. 

“And what about you? Are you not part of this bet?”

“Oh no, darling. They both know you’re going to be fucking me first,” he grinned. “They have strict orders not to have you before I do.” 

“Is that so?” 

You bit back a grin, suddenly twisting at the thought of a new challenge. You looked at the door the two male had disappeared through. You were absolutely going to do everything you could to make one of them disobey Rhysand. It would be fun to finally have some control over the situation, to finally knock the arrogant leader down a peg. 

But which one was likely to give in first? 

Well, that was something you were definitely going to find out. 

༺♥༻

Tag list: @justdreamstars @minakay @f4iry-bell @godletmebeanf1wag @judig92 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @peaceandcrackers @glitterypirateduck @gorlillaglue25 @the-lake-is-calling @danikamariemain @sousydive @mis-lil-red @hallucynatiing @librafairy @poshestpigeon @sirenaobscura @red-rabbit-13 @elle4404

*If you asked to be on the taglist but don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

[lunajay33]

Enjoy the Silence🌪️

Summary: Things in your past has driven you to be silent but will someone be able to break that shell, will someone finally listen to you(might make this into a series!)

•Masterlist•

Things happened, awful painful things happened to me as a child even as a teen, that feeling never really went away, it was there deep in your heart, lingering at the back of your mind so I learned to never let those things happen again because my heart couldn’t handle that, so now I stay silent I don’t let anyone in

So when the apocalypse happened I got to run away from the things that were holding me back, from the people that hurt me and I got to find a group at the quarry that were so kind, they accepted me, they accepted after awhile that I didn’t talk they were my family now but there was still the thought of getting hurt so I kept that part of myself locked away

But I heard the others talk about it sometimes, they just thought I was mute and I’d rather then think that than the real reason

When we found the prison I thought things might be getting better but then that fell and then terminus brought up so much pain but now we were finally someone secure, Alexandria

The two house split up the group, I stayed with Rick Michonne Carl Judith and Daryl, my room being right next to Daryl’s which made me feel safe, every since I met him at the quarry I felt this peace around him, I never knew why until I saw the scars that littered his body that’s when I knew he felt my pain, he understood

And from the way he looked at me I think he knew why I was also silent which took that weight off my chest

I got up from my bed and went to get ready for the day in mine and Daryl’s shared bathroom in the basement, I brushed my teeth pulled my hair back for the day and got dressed in my shorts and long sleeves black shirt, I opened up the door to leave when I bumped into Daryl scaring me a bit from the impact

“Oh sorry” he said looking down at me

I just smiled and moved to the side to let him past, when he passed he brushed his hand over my shoulder giving me this weird feeling in my chest I’ve never felt before, usually I hated people touching me but for some reason his touch was…..nice

I walked upstairs grabbing an apple and heading out to the gardens, during the day Maggie and I usually worked on maintaining the gardens, it was relaxing and helped me forget about what plagued my mind, the day went on as usual, until it was my turn for watch, I sat on the perch looking over the wall

I always watched at night, me and someone else well whoever wanted to, the others in the group said I shouldn’t be out every night and to switch regularly every other day with someone but I just shook my head and continued this routine

As I was watching the sight before me, the occasional straggle walker waiting for my watch partner, some people I preferred over others as they didn’t push me to talk and just enjoyed the silence with me

That’s when the ladder started creaking as someone climbed up to take watch with me, the grunt that I heard when the person sat next to me I knew exactly who it was and that feeling in my chest was back

I looked at him greeting him with a simple smile which he returned and that feeling just grew, it was confusing I didn’t know what it was it was so foreign maybe that’s just what happened when I felt comfortable with someone, that must be it

“Have a good day?” He asked looking at me

I nodded resting my head on my hand that was perched up on my knee, then I motioned to him for his response

“Day was alright, went on a run actually found somethin fer ya” he said as he rummaged through his bag he brought up, it was a surprise for sure no one really ever got me anything….like every

He pulled out a new pair of boots and a new long sleeve shirt, I gasped at this gesture it made my chest feel tight with happiness

I took the boots and tried them on and they were a perfect fight the shirt looked like the right size too, instead of black like my usually shirt this one was dark green

“I saw yer shoes were falling apart and ya only wear this black shirt, thought ya might like somethin’ new” he said grunting, clearing his through but I knew this kind of thing wasn’t normal for him either

I felt so happy someone would do this for me, I placed my hand on his and squeezed it hoping he realized by my touching him, which was rare, showed how much this really meant to me

“It ain’t a problem” he said turning his hand to hold mine, I thought he’d pull away but he didn’t and I liked it, for the next few hours of our shift we sat there in silence, some occasional questions but he held my hand the whole time, something new, something warm

Our shift was over now as Abraham and Sasha replaced us

“Get some sleep you two” Sasha said smiling as you both started walking back to your house

~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl’s POV

She gasped, a noise actually left her, and it was the cutest thing ever, there was something about her, maybe because she was quiet she didn’t try and fill the silence with stupid chit chat, sure I liked to talk with some people normal conversations but with her it was some of the only time that I felt relaxed

And when her eyes lit up at the present she looked so happy which a lot of us never really got to see, for as long as I’ve known her I’ve never really seen her happy, but this little gesture shows that she never really got presents kind of like me

But even though I was closed off most of the time except with Rick and Carol, I wanted to be able to get closer to her, show her she can be happy, but I don’t wanna push her too much, just a little at a time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Normal POV

Last night I had the best sleep of my life, maybe it was the peaceful evening with Daryl, maybe it was the way he made me feel and distracted me, but whatever it was I was able to sleep through the whole night without waking up from a nightmare

I got dressed in my new boots and new shirt, along with my usual jean shorts, I only had one pair but I felt like too much of a burden to ask for a new pair even though I’ve only been wearing these since the farm when Maggie gave them to me after my pants were ripped

But I mean Daryl gave me this shirt and boots maybe it wouldn’t be too much of a problem to ask for him to keep an eye out on his next scavenging outage, they always came around asking everyone if people needed something and I always declined, so just this once so be fine….right?

I went upstairs and Carl Michonne Rick and Daryl were sat at the table having breakfast, Rick holding Judith and feeding her pieces of peaches, normally I’d take something and leave but after last night I wanted to get closer to everyone even just with small little gestures, so I decided to sit at the table in the open chair by Michonne

Everyone looked at me first with shocked expressions but smiled after they realized what happened

“Morning! Have a good sleep?” Michonne asked smiling as she put a pancake on my plate

I nodded smiling genuinely, finally feeling refreshed after actually being able to sleep through a whole night

“Are you working on the garden again today?” Carl asked

Again I nodded shovelling the pancakes into my mouth, starving from having missed supper last night

“Are the tomatoes rip yet I’m wanna make pasta for the family” Rick asked

I held my fingers close together showing that the tomatoes were close to being done and Rick was happy about it, I helped clean up from breakfast and went to head to the garden but right before I left the porch I saw Daryl was already cleaning his bow and thought this was the best time to ask

I went and stood infront of him fiddling with the ends of my shirt, he looked at me as he sat his bow down

“Ya good?” He asked

It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to someone so this was a big deal for me

“Ummm…..can you look for shorts for me next time you go out, if it’s not too much to ask” I blurted out quickly wanting to get it over with

It was silent for a while and it was getting uncomfortable for me, he was the only one I finally got the courage to actually talk too and now he’s the one not talking

“Sorry” I said turning to leave but before I made it down the porch he gently took my shoulder stopping me

“I can do that, I’ll bring ya back a few ta pick from” he said giving me a gently smile

I felt that weight lift from my chest, I nodded smiling and left to harvest any rip foods, as I was placing some strawberries in a basket I kept thinking about Daryl, I only ever really see him smile like that when he was talking to me or Carol and it made those butterflies erupt in my stomach, and it was driving me insane I didn’t know what this meant

“Here have some water it’s hot as hell out today” Maggie said breaking me from my thoughts as she handed me her water bottle, I wiped of my hands and chugged some feeling a bit better

The sun was really beating down today and the longsleeve wasn’t helping but it was like a safe thing for me to feel covered, shorts were fine but I liked being fully covered on my top half for some reason, maybe I’ll just take a break in side for a second

I took the strawberries bringing them to the kitchen for Olivia to store, I took a few and brought them back to the house placing them in the fridge for the others, after cooling off I headed back out to help Maggie and let her take her break

I was working later into the evening after harvesting the food, I went on to pick off any dead leaves, replanting some sprout to make more plants and doing some watering, now that the sun was setting I sat on the patch of grass off of the garden relaxing after a long day of work, feeling the little breeze blow through my hair

I was so relaxed almost falling asleep when someone sat next to me shaking my shoulder

“Hey” that gruff voice I knew anywhere, looking beside me to see Daryl with his bag again

“Me and Rick went out on a little run today, found a store that was barely looked through” he placed his bag infront of me motioning to it

I pulled out like 5 pairs of shorts all kinda similar to the ones I have now but in varying colors, denim blue, black, light denim, army green, and dark grey plus all the same size as mine now, he really new my sizes perfectly

I held them too my chest smiling so much my cheeks hurt

“Thank you” I said

“No probelm, maybe next time ya can come with me”

“Sure!”

“Ya know I’m still not use ta ya talkin ta me……I like it” he said making be blush

“You’re the only one…..I’m comfortable with you”

“Why?” He asked you just shrugged your shoulders

“Ya can talk ta me ya know”

“I know I’m just not…..not yet”

“I get it, we should go home get some dinner before Carl eats everything” he said standing holding his hand out for me, I held the shorts tight and took his hand but he didn’t let go all the way back to the house

Something new was happening, it was scary but I was willing to try whatever this was

—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.2<-

Thinking of doing a part 2 if you wanna be in the taglist comment!!

Taglist: @deansapplepie

[msfantasy-comics]

The Opposites Attract

Dick Grayson x Reader

Summary: A Head Cannon on which Dick Grayson and Y/n oppose each other yet remain wholly compatible.

Warning: Y/n is depicted as angsty and a little feral. 

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Opposites attract they say.

Yet Dick and Y/n are such polar opposites surely their difference outweigh each other.

Despite it all, the two love birds gravitate each other due to their completing differences.

Extrovert vs. Introvert

Dick is insanely outgoing and is recharged by socialising. His perfect setting is in a crowded rowdy rooms where the conversation moves like wildfire. Wild and Abrupt.

Y/n on the other hand, prefers a quite space with one-on-one conversations.

In typical extraverted fashion. Dick adopts the introverted Y/n and encourages her to step outside her comfort zone and talk to others.

But it’s just not in her nature.

How the hell are you meant to jump into a conversation?

How are you meant to have a say on a topic when three other people are talking over each other to get their 2 cents in?

You gave up almost immediately and retreated back to your safe corner always from the shoulder bashing and elbow jabbing walk way.

Dick was initially disappointed to see you give up so quickly until he noticed that you were carrying on your socialising in your own way.

You sat silently as strangers poured their heart out to you.

Silently nodding and humming in agreement every now and then before the person sighed, thanked you for listening and walked off.

Dick really admires that about you.

Dick: “Need some company.”

Y/n: “Only if you bring me the good vibes.”

Optimist vs. Pessimist

Dick is a buzzing bundle of bountiful energy.

Dick is never short on absurdly positive outcomes despite all odds indicating otherwise.

Why live in a delusional state? You know the realities of life.

And the reality is that life can be shit and it doesn’t turn out well for everyone no matter how much they try or desperately scramble to achieve their hopes.

Hope is pointless.

There is just something obnoxiously wonderful about Dick.

How is it that your boy wonder lights a flame in you that fills you with certainty that all will be right as long as he is here?

You greatly admire how infectious Dicks positivity can be.

Y/n: “Why keep sending them to Arkham only to escape and ruin lives? Might as well just put an end to their burdensome presence.”

Dick: “Oh honey nooooo. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Snuffing out the life of a person doesn’t solve the root of the issue.”

Y/n: “Who cares! Nothing matters in the end anyway, we will all die and become obsolete. Only to let the next generation bitch and moan about the inequality of it all.”

Dick: “Ah, my precious little sunshine can be such a downer, yes you can.”

*Condescendingly pinches cheeks*

Secretive vs. Open

Dick just wants the best of both worlds.

To be the figure head for heroism, hope, peace and safety, without an of the consequences of having your image publicly known.

Dick would never want to endanger the lives of those around him due to his passions in crime fighting.

Therefore, he must maintain the secrecy of the bat and the mask.

You, however, don’t understand how or why your boy wonder hides his true identity.

It’s not like Dick Grayson is an every day normal civilian.

He’s a fricken heir to Gotham wealthiest philanthropist.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any privacy on either alter egos.

But the Bats secret is not your own to share.

So instead you live freely by your own rules.

You admit your identities and aren’t afraid to show the public your true self.

You honestly couldn’t care less about public perception.

Dick, admires your unapologetic lifestyle.

Aggressive Random: “You shouldn’t -“

Y/n: “Piss Off- no one asked you.”

Dick: “Ah sweetie… maybe you should listen to what they have to say.”

Y/n: “I couldn’t give a rats!”

[devildomditzy]

Finally, some peace and quiet after such a chaotic day! You practically leap out of your RAD uniform and into some pajamas as the night begins to fall, crashing face first onto your plush bed. It’s warm, with the fuzzy comforter the twins gifted you, and soft, with the various stuffed creatures given to you by the brothers and angels alike. You snuggle in further, allowing the dark tendrils of sleep creep in, beginning to drift off after such a long-

*thunk*

After such a long, agonizing da-

*thunk*

A-After such a long, agoni-

*thunk*

Ignore it and it will go away-

*thunk*

Nope, you’re not moving from this spo-

*thunk*

Ugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have shown him that cheesy romcom from your home realm.

Sighing, you stand up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and making your way over to the room’s large ornate window. Honestly, you should have known he was up to something when he wasn’t attached to your hip on the way home.

Pulling back the curtains, you see Mammon, small stone in hand winding up to take another pot shot at your window. Upon realizing you’ve finally stirred, his face elates, letting the rock in his hand fall to the ground as his eyes shine with anticipation. He’s almost like a puppy, excited to grab your attention.

You pick up the large golden hook from its resting place and lift up, allowing the window panes to be pushed open and outwardly towards the source of your annoyance.

“Yo!”, he smiles widely, self assured that his plan was working.

“What are you doing?”, you question back, wanting to get to the point of this charade and get back to your pillowy slumber.

“What’s it look like I’m doin’! I’m bein’ romantic!”

You snort at his comment. Seems like he’s not gonna beat around the bush this time.

“Uh huh, so you decided to throw rocks at my window…for romance?”

“Nah, that part ‘s just to get yer attention! Now c’mon, we’re sneakin out!”

You give him a quick once over then look back down to yourself, already in your night clothes and ready to pass, quiet frankly, the fuck out.

“You expect me to sneak out looking like this?”

“Course not! But how was I supposed to know you were goin’ to bed already like some loser!”

You feign a hurt expression, bringing a hand up to your chest, “So you’re trying to convince me to sneak out with you by calling me a loser? Well, so much for romance!”, you say, turning up your nose and beginning to close the window back.

“Oi! Hey! No! Don’t ya dare close that window on me!”

“Oh yeah? Or what? You gonna come throw rocks at my door instead? Prrrretty sure Lucifer would loooove that!”

“Argh- Alright! I’m sorry for callin ya a loser, ‘kay? Now would ya please get ready to go? Car’s runnin’ an’ our reservation’s at si-”

He seems to kick himself mentally for letting that last part slip.

“Oh? Reservations you say? Maybe you do know how to be romantic after all~”, you tease as his face gradually turns redder.

“That part…was ‘ppose to be a surprise”, he sighs, cursing himself under his breathe.

You giggle at his flustered state. He could be so cute without realizing it, and the fact that he had put so much effort into this surprise had your heart reeling enough to shake off the rest of your drowsiness.

“Alright, I’m coming. Just, gimme a few minutes to get changed?”, you smile softly at his nervous mannerisms as he runs his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time.

“Make it quick, or I’m leavin’ without ya!”, he bites back with a smirk, confidence seeming to return to him.

You can’t hold back the laugh that comes out at that statement. “Oh please, we both know you wouldn’t dare.”

“An’ we both know you wouldn’t have any fun without me!”

You give a lighthearted scoff and turn back to shut the window.

“O-Oi, what’d ya doin?”, he questions, worry beginning to settle on his face.

“Well you can’t watch me get changed pervert!”, you laugh as the comment makes his stuttering worse.

He quickly glances away from you, finding himself unable to maintain eye contact any longer.

“M-meet me round back in five, got it?!”, he calls out to you before sprinting out of view, presumably to where he’d backed his car out to. “Ya damn nuisance!”

Time spent with Mammon may not be the most relaxing, usually involving you running from Lucifer, or Casino security, or both, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[doodle-pops]

Better Than The Stars

Caranthir x reader

Request: Hi Mina! Can I request a one shot where Maedhros or Caranthir are married after being reincarnated and they're struggling with people opinions about their children (hair color, their patrents past, Fëanor...) meanwhile their wives don't care even more because they're noble and know about their society (plus Nerdandel Is supporting). However lots of fluff and family actitude 🩷 thank you!!!! - @foreverandadaydarling

A/N: A pleasure to create this piece on your behalf dear. Enjoy!

Warnings: female reader, angst, comfort/happiness, reborn!Caranthir, arguments, Caranthir wanting to separate

Words: 2k

Synopsis: There were days when even the great son of Feanor required reassurance that your choice to be a family was genuine and not out of guilt.

Pulling the blanket over your shoulders, you stood in the doorway, watching your husband tediously slave away, attempting to garden. A chore that once came easily during his youthful and glorious years of peace was now foreign and laborious. You would have been fine with assisting him, but quick he was to assure you that you shouldn’t be the only one labouring around the household. Your response? A simple smile and a pat on his shoulders before leaving him to his own devices.

It was now spring, and Arien’s rays were barely peeking through the clouds to relieve the winter coldness. What little crop you two managed to save during the previous seasons was now getting the opportunity to grow. Winter was harsh for you two since you no longer lived in the comfort of your parent’s homes or the lavish life you once did in Thargelion. Returning to Valinor, branded as outcasts or the darkened ones, most of your family turned blind eyes to many of the returned—as did the former servants of his house. Most were quick to beg for forgiveness and repent their rebellion towards the Valar and were easily forgiven; however, their compromise was to never serve under their house again.

You, along with a few of their spouses, openly chose to remain at their sides after their rebirth, believing that if they were given a second chance at life, then there was still good left in them. Unfortunately, your choice of dwelling with him left a stain on his heart when he realised the life you would have to live with him—giving up the lavish treatment you once had.

“Ease up on the hoe—the handle already has a crack, arimelda.” Halting his swing mid-air, he turned to gaze at you with soft eyes, but behind them, you saw the distant look of regret.

Yes, he regretted you being dragged along with him in a swirl of chaos and destruction. He promised you the world when you both wedded and instead, he brought death, pain, and heartbreak. Though you knew the true reason behind his actions, hence the force being placed on the handle with each swing the tool made with the earth.

His children.

Your two daughters became the newest victims of the backlash the House of Feanor faced. A brief excursion into Tirion’s market yesterday left them scurrying back home with tears streaming down their ruddy cheeks, a precious trademark that made them all the more magnificent in their father’s eyes. Keeping the incident a secret from him all day yesterday to maintain peace was broken this morning upon mindless eavesdropping as his girls hush-hushed the harsh words. His first instinct was to fly into Tirion and have his daughters pinpoint the individuals before giving them a good old-fashioned taste of his mind, the classic Moryo style.

Had it not been for his daughters' pleas alongside yours, the House of Feanor would have left another mark on their reputation.

Sharply exhaling and relaxing the flare of his nostrils, he gave a pained smile. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t notice. I’ll fix it when I’m finished.” And yet, his smile didn’t reach his eyes as it once did.

“No need, just go easy on it.”

Offering him a genuine smile, one that reached your eyes, he dropped the hoe.

He still couldn’t understand, to this day, how you could be happy amidst the life he had you living. You deserved the riches he bestowed upon you in Thargelion. Whatever you wished for, he would have been able to grant—be it the largest diamond, a platter of fruits, or the finest material for your clothes. Not this broken life of struggling to bring in a good harvest or being cursed at when you went into town for produce and meat. Even the relationships with a few of his brothers felt strained, the harsh, cold, blank stares you would give them whenever they visited.

You still hated them for persuading him to retrieve the Silmaril, even though you knew he had no choice. You just wished it had come at a later date so more time could have been spent. At least his mother did her best to reach out and act as a guidance counsellor when she could. Her words were harsh at times, despite the honesty behind them and bias towards her sons, giving recognition to her wisdom. But not once had she persuaded any of her daughters-in-law to leave her sons. That was the sole decision she left you ladies to make; your choices were your consequences.

Frowning, deep in thought, he parted his lips to argue. “Why—”

“Don’t, because I will give you the same answer as I always do. I just want to be with you. I’m happy with you,” you reminded with a single huff.

Returning a breathy laughter, wanting nothing more than to scream and yell at the now nonchalant and lackadaisical you were treating the crisis, he curled his fists into his trousers. “Really? Is that the life you genuinely want with me when we have children? If it were you and I, then I would be less inclined to leave, but we have a family who have now become victims! And for what?! Looking like me and coming from this accursed family! This is not the life I want for them and you!”

“Then you would prefer us packing up and departing after expressing your gratefulness upon your rebirth that we stayed?!” you snapped, lowering your tone to prevent your girls from picking up that their parents were arguing.

“Yes! Yes, I would have preferred that instead of having to listen to the vile comments targeted at my children and you!” He shook his head and turned to gaze at the dirt ground. Standing in the troughs he had dug, he felt insignificant for the first time in his life. He felt lost as if his purpose had been stolen from him.

Maybe if I covered myself with dirt and grew, I might be able to start over again? I’d be able to regain a purpose in life.

“Do you genuinely believe I would leave you so easily? Have I not walked through fire and gotten burned to prove my loyalty? Is that not what this family is all about? Do you honestly want to chase us away because of naysayers? I’ve said it time and time again, I don’t care about other’s opinions of us. What happened to the Morifinwë who didn’t care about other’s opinions?”

“He died long ago and has no intentions of returning now that he has children!” He allowed himself to stand there in the dirt and lifted his head to gaze at the overcast above. “You could return to your family, taking our daughters with you, and atone for your actions. You all would not have to struggle or be hated—everyone would adore you all, a life of luxuries and opportunities. You were never hated, always loved, so why do you still stay when the situation shows no sign of bettering?”

If the Arien was out, I’d be able to sprout properly. But even she would not wish to cast her rays upon a person like me—they were too beautiful to be wasted.

Tugging the blanket tighter around your body as a brisk cold wind blew through the garden, you shivered. Listening to the branches quake and shiver from the intensity of the violent wind, you could observe and ponder how long your actions had troubled his mind. He didn’t drop his head from the sky; he kept it facing upwards and left his hands curled into fists at his sides, controlling his temper. Opening his mouth to respond, he quickly snapped it shut, unable to provide an appropriate counter.

It was something he had done less and less since his rebirth. It was the most eerie change in his persona. Gone was the easily angered Caranthir, replaced by a mellowed and soft-spoken person. Still, he’d grind his teeth or grumble under his breath at the hate, but always bit his tongue because he knew it was the truth and there was no point in fighting it. Yet, there was anger behind your decision to remain at his side. You could have left him, never to be heard of again, and lived in a peaceful paradise.

“Because we would not have been at peace if you were not around. To hear our children ask for their father, why wasn’t he coming around or if he didn’t love them anymore are questions I would like to avoid. I want our girls to grow up knowing and seeing you in a different light compared to how others perceive you.” Your voice was soft and considerate, and his tensive posture was relaxed when it reached his ears. “I want them to know that their father was kind and loving, and someone who made an effort.”

Relaxing his fingers from their tight grip, he wiggled them around to alleviate the ache. Lowering his head to your level, he turned to confront you. His forest green eyes pierced into yours, seeking warmth and honesty behind your words. And you allowed him to—there was nothing to conceal. He deserved to witness the truth for himself.

“I want peace and I also want happiness Caranthir. Do you remember our vows, happiness and sows, for better or worse, through the good times and bad? I chose you from the start and I will continue to choose you until the end of time—we will stand with you until the end of time.” Walking out the doorway, you stepped barefoot onto the dirt. Grimacing because of the coldness of the earth seeping through your pores, you continued to walk until you stood before him.

Extending your hand, you tenderly grasped his freckled one and raised it until it met your lips. Returning a smile to him, of which he was unaware, you kissed the back of his hand before reaching your other hand to encircle his waist. Despite the stern and unyielding expression on his face, your actions were the exception that broke the ice, causing him to blush slightly. This was one occasion when he could not deny being captivated by your gesture.

Raising your head to meet his gaze, you captured the longing, desperate reassurance in his stare.

“Sometimes I wonder who is the more stubborn of the two of us.”

“I have never been happier Moryo; you make me the happiest person in the world.” Saying this, you took his hand encased by yours and rubbed it against your cheek before repeating the gesture upon his ruddy cheeks. “Your daughters love and want you in their lives; don’t push us away.”

“Even in this state of living when I can no longer provide the best?”

“You always give us your best.” At the whisper of your words, a warm wind blew through the gardens and wrapped its cool arms around you both, pushing you into one another. Within that moment, two extra pairs of footsteps were heard rushing out the backdoor. Lo and behold, the sight of two miniature versions of both of you came scampering out of the house to rush for a group hug. Never one for missing out on family hugs whenever they saw you both embracing.

The moment they ran out of the house giggling was the moment a flutter of warmth flowed into his heart as he gazed at his two loving children clinging to you both. Their short arms struggling to encircle your bodies as they squeezed your waists tightly added appreciation to the warmth. Arien’s rays took the most opportune moment to shine her light upon you both, encasing you in a swirl of golden light. A light finally shone upon you both, maybe a sign of acceptance or prosperity, or both.

Laughing at the action, Caranthir could not help but gaze lovingly at them, giving their heads small pats and then at you—finally, he was seeing the honesty and beauty behind your words in your eyes. Choosing him wasn’t out of sympathy or shame, it was all love and contentment.

“Then I will continue to give you all my best meldanya…for staying at my side.”

“You are all that I need.” Pulling him closer, you rubbed his nose against yours and gently pecked his lips before grinning at his blushing face.

“Can I have a kiss too atya?”

“Me too, I want a kiss please!”

With a smile emanating from the depths of his heart, Caranthir gazed at his girls tip-toeing with their lips puckered for their kisses and chuckled. Some things truly never change.

Top of Form

“Alright, line up for your kisses!”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @sakurayaxd @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @ladyenchanted @hermaeuswhora @aconstructofamind @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster

[starboyshoyo]

A Beloved Tradition

Pairing: Luka x reader

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: This piece is a bit more worldbuilding-heavy than the others I’ve done! I enjoyed writing it though, so I hope you like it too!

A paper marriage in Belobog isn’t the only way to show off the love between a couple.

According to the laws of Belobog, a marriage would have to pass through the Bureau of Civil Affairs in the administrative district before it could become official. But as history would have it, those in high places would often ignore the needs of those below. The Underworlders of Belobog, fed up with having their marriage requests delayed or even outright denied, came up with their own ceremonies to acknowledge the love between couples in their community.

A traditional Belobogian Undergrounder’s wedding consists of preparing and seasoning an olm frog, roasting it over Geomarrow ores, and sharing the meal in the heart of town.

- Excerpt from The Heart of Jarilo-IV: Belobogian Customs and Traditions

+++

“I don’t think this is what anyone had in mind when they said to prepare the olm,” you laughed, shaking your head.

Your boyfriend and soon-to-be husband Luka grins at you. “What, you’ve never seen a frog wear a hat before? Expand your mind, sweetheart! This is gonna be the prettiest roasted olm Boulder Town has ever seen.”

In his hands is the main ingredient to a traditional Belobogian miners’ dish- an olm frog. He fiddles with a napkin, folding it into a cap to put on the amphibian’s head.

“Well, he certainly is a handsome olm,” you concede with a fond grin. You lift it up, surveying Luka’s work. Despite the seeming unwieldiness of his mechanical arm, Luka had been able to fold the napkin into surprisingly neat creases, balancing it delicately on the frog’s head. “Still, he’s not as handsome as my fiancé here.”

“Awww, you flatter me~”

A gag from behind you interrupts the sweet moment. Seele and Natasha stand a little ways back, the former holding tongs and turning pieces of geomarrow ore in the stove, keeping it red-hot. “Get a room,” she gags, “You two are sweet enough to make me barf.”

“What Seele means is that it’s good to see the two of you so in love,” Natasha adds, with a meaningful glance towards her adopted daughter. “But we shouldn’t keep your guests waiting. The other dishes are already done- only the olm is left.”

“Sorry, Natasha,” Luka apologized, but it was clear that he wasn’t abashed in the slightest.

“No worries,” Natasha replied. She smiled warmly at the two of you. “I don’t think anyone would blame you for wanting to drag on the festivities for a little while longer. Goodness knows we’ve had little else to celebrate since the blockade”

The four of you were silent for a moment. The halt of trade and transport between the overworld and underworld was a touchy spot for Underworlders- some of them wanted to maintain their pride and wait it out, while others proposed they fight back against the tyranny of the Supreme Guardian in the streets above. The divide caused a lot of trouble for Wildfire, who struggled to keep the peace between two sides.

“… It feels selfish to be celebrating in a time like this,” you admit self-consciously, breaking the silence. “There’s so much else to be thinking about; to be fighting for. But here we are, taking up Wildfire’s time for something that isn’t official business.”

Luka nods, echoing the sentiment. “It feels a bit weird to be off duty for the first time in months. I hope it’s not too much trouble for you.”

“Of course it isn’t!” Seele shakes her head. “We wanted to be here for you guys. Don’t get all sappy on us now, just because we’re being nice.”

“Everyone was so excited for you guys when they heard the news,” Natasha confirms. She takes the tongs from Seele, turning over the geomarrow in the belly of the stove. “Wildfire takes care of our own. And besides, it isn’t just for the both of you. Morale has been high ever since the planning began. It’s good for everyone to see that life goes on, even when times are hard.”

Between Seele’s fierce encouragement and Natasha’s kind words, it’s hard to stay doubtful. “Thank you, both of you,” you say to them, and you mean it.

+++

“Gather round, everyone! Master Oleg would like to say a few words.”

The settling murmur of guests around you roils in your belly as you sit at a table set up in Boulder Town’s square. Luka is lounging beside you with his normal arm flung over your shoulder. The roasted olm rests on the table between you, no longer sizzling hot but still pleasantly warm.

“How much longer before we eat? I’m starving,” he whispers to you with a grin. You nudge him back, shushing him as Oleg begins to speak.

“I’ll try to keep this short, seeing as the groom is getting a little impatient.” He shoots a smile at Luka, then coughs once before clearing his throat. “It’s great to see you all here today, in support of two of our dearest members of Wildfire. There’s a lot to be said about the state of the Underground right now-“ Oleg waits for the murmurs to pass through the crowd to continue. “But I think it’s safe to say that this union between our happy couple is proof that life goes on, both on the surface of Belobog and below. No matter the circumstances, we will find ways to thrive.”

Oleg nods to you. “On behalf of Wildfire and the entire Underground, we wish you two a happy and loving marriage.”

That’s your cue. Picking up the fork from beside the roasted dish, you use it to tear a piece of juicy meat from the side of the olm and hold it out to Luka. He grins and does the same with his own fork. You exchange them, taking the bites off of each others’ utensils- sharing your first meal in the town square, just as couples did for hundreds of years before you. The crowd erupts in whistles and cheers- and just like that, you’re forever bonded to the love of your life. Luka pulls you in for a kiss and you reciprocate, smiling into his lips as he leans his forehead against yours.

Roasted olm is said to taste like chicken, but there’s no way for you to make that comparison. After all, as an Underworlder you’ve spent your entire life by the glow of a Geomarrow furnace. You didn’t have the luxury of the sun or the sky or a grand Overworlder’s wedding. But today has proven that you don’t need any of that to thrive- or to love.

Taking your new husband’s hand in yours, you look around at the people surrounding you. Miners and their families, Natasha, Seele, Oleg and the members of Wildfire, residents of Boulder Town, Hook and the Moles- and of course, Luka.

“There’s more than enough food here for everyone. Please, join us! Let’s eat!”

How very loved you are.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[casualfruit]

As much as I understand the fandom’s general negative reaction to Shuro, I can’t help but feel bad for him. I’ve been both Laios and Shuro in that situation. It’s heartbreaking to suddenly find out that someone you considered a close friend actually hates you; it’s agonizing to be friends with someone you can’t stand, but don’t have the guts to tell them how you really feel. Then the repressed frustration finally reaches critical mass and explodes out all at once, making an already painful experience that much worse for both parties.

I was raised on the idea that if you don’t have anything nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all—and telling someone you don’t like them is not nice. Even the calmest, most non-judgemental declaration that I don’t want to be someone’s friend comes with a boatload of guilt. At the same time, I know that the longer I wait, the more hurtful it will be—I’ve also been on the other side of this predicament, and it was devastating—which also makes me feel extremely guilty.

When I find myself in an unwanted friendship, I often find myself acting like Shuro: dropping subtle hints and slowly trying to distance myself until the other person either takes the hint or just moves on. It’s even worse when you share mutual friends because that can cause an entire friend group schism, which means even more people get hurt by this one sour relationship. You might even get ousted from the group altogether (again, this has happened to me), or the other person might get ousted, which comes with yet more guilt. Is it even worth it at that point? Maybe it’s better to silently tolerate this one person for the sake of maintaining the peace. I know it’s selfish, I know it’s not fair, but it feels so much easier to stay quiet and nod along than to have a confrontation and risk losing a huge part of your support system.

Combine that with the fact that Shuro is/was in love with Falin… god, I really have no idea what I’d do in that situation.

TL;DR Shuro isn’t evil, he was stuck in a difficult position and badly mishandled it due to his upbringing and his desire to maintain a positive relationship with Falin (and presumably everyone else aside from Laios)

[jokeringcutio]

Stepbrother!Stu Macher x Reader "Cookies"

Rating: Mature due to themes

Cookies with Stu

The scent of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies filled the kitchen as you carefully placed another tray into the oven. You sighed, pleased with the progress you had made. The first batch lay cooling on a nearby rack, their golden-brown hues beckoning to be tasted. A moment of peace washed over you, the simple act of baking offering solace from the chaos of your new family life.

"Whatcha got there?" Stu's voice sliced through your reverie as he sauntered into the kitchen. His tall frame and unruly brown curls somehow managed to captivate and unnerve you all at once.

"Uh, just making some cookies," you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but your heart betrayed you, pounding loudly in your chest.

"Interesting choice for someone who’s so sweet already," he teased, leaning against the kitchen counter. His piercing blue eyes focused intensely on your every movement, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Thanks, I guess..." you replied, forcing a tight smile. But inside, your thoughts raced. Why was he watching you so closely? Did he want something? Or was it just his twisted sense of humor?

"Careful with that dough," Stu remarked, smirking as you fumbled with the sticky mixture. "Wouldn't want to make a mess now, would we?"

"Right," you muttered, suddenly feeling inept under his scrutinizing gaze. You tried to shake off the unease, focusing on the task at hand. But as you scooped up another spoonful of dough, you couldn't help but wonder what his true intentions were. “Shouldn’t you be entertaining your girlfriend?” you boldly asked, but Stu just laughed at this and shrugged.

“Casey’s busy.” He fell silent, his eyes still upon you. Judging?

"Need a hand?" Stu offered after a moment of silent staring, stepping closer to you. His proximity sent shivers down your spine, though you couldn't tell if it was from fear or something else entirely.

"I think I've got it," you replied hesitantly, struggling to maintain your composure.

"Suit yourself," he said, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. He remained close, though, still observing your every move as if you were the most fascinating thing in the world. You quietly wished he would leave the kitchen and go to his room. His presence was distracting you. But of course, you wouldn’t have that luck.

"All right, all right," Stu sighed, stepping even closer, his tall frame looming over you. "Let me show you how it's done." His breath was hot on your neck as he reached around you, his hands enveloping yours on the dough.

You yelped. What did he think he was doing? You had this. You had baked cookies before. The evidence of it lay on a plate on the counter, in plain view. This action was totally unnecessary, yet the grip he had on your hands was unyielding. Not too tight, but not leaving you room to yank your hands away.

You tried to suppress a shiver at his touch, focusing instead on the feel of the sticky mixture beneath your fingers. But as you began kneading the dough together, guided by Stu's sure hands, you couldn't help but notice something pressing insistently against your back. Something warm and hard.

"Feel that?" Stu whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky. "That's how you know you're doing it right."

"Stu," you breathed, your throat suddenly dry. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel your cheeks flush with heat. You knew what was pressing against you – it was unmistakable – and the realization left you dizzy with desire and fear.

"Relax," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "I'm just trying to help." His grip on your hands tightened, forcing you to push harder into the dough. The motion brought him even closer, and you felt the ache of longing spread through your body like wildfire.

What was he doing to you? Your body was on fire, every nerve extra sensitive, all your thoughts focused on the bulge pressed against your lower back and the touch of his hands as they guided your own. Would it feel the same way if he kneaded your breasts? How would it feel to have him deep inside?

You had to will the thoughts to go away, but you were too weak. You indulged in the fantasy, allowed it to wash over you.

But then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Stu released his hold on your hands and took a step back, leaving you shivering and panting from the unexpected rush of sensation. Without a word, he picked up one of the cookies you'd baked earlier, biting into it with a slow, deliberate crunch.

"Damn, these are good," he said, smirking as he backed away towards the door. "Guess you don't need my help after all." He gave you one last lingering look, his eyes dark and hungry, before disappearing from the kitchen.

Left alone, you stared blankly at the spot where he'd stood moments before, your heart still racing. You couldn't deny the heat that had flared between you, or the way your body ached for more. But as you watched his retreating form, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable bulge in his pants, swinging boldly as he walked away.

"Get a grip," you whispered to yourself, shaking your head as if to clear it of the dangerous thoughts that had taken root. "Casey was busy or he would’ve gone to her. He's just playing with you."

And with that, you turned back to the dough and began kneading once more, trying to focus on the task at hand and forget the haunting presence of your stepbrother.

~

AN: For more, follow me (:

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[aquarterpastfour]

I wish Resolutions never happened.

Okay, okay. I know how that sounds coming from someone who isn’t J/C. But hear me out? I promise I’m serious and not trolling.

I think Resolutions jump started J/C for a lot of people, but it derailed it for me. I think I’d 100% be on board if the episode 1) didn’t exist or 2) treated Chakotay differently in it. I’ll start with 1, since that’s the first sentence of this post. My reasons for it are also briefer.

1. If the episode didn’t exist, the chemistry could have continued to grow (as it had been) over several more seasons and still fall within the bounds Kate Mulgrew created around her character. I’m a hopeless fan of slow burns. With this episode this turned into a burn that flared and then had diminishing returns. (Actually, no returns during the show proper).

On to 2, because I actually have more feelings about this.

2. They shouldn’t have had Chakotay so easily give in to their ‘new life’. This man led a cell within an insurgency movement that had purpose. Reason. He gave up the thing he chose that estranged him from his family to do it. Voyager and the Delta Quadrant had put a pause to his Maquis goals, but this episode killed it. That’s a travesty.

I wish he had worked as hard as she had to get off New Earth. That he helped her maintain her equipment, even if he couldn’t do the science, and bounced ideas off of her as he tried to provide comforts she would deny herself otherwise. That yes, he admitted she gave him peace, but he couldn’t truly enjoy that peace knowing his (now their) people were still out there looking for home. That his true home was making sure Voyager and its people were safe, and if endless duty and toil came with it then he was prepared to share that burden with her.

And make that devotion mostly platonic, so that in the following seasons, as he keeps his word to her to share that burden, it can grow into something more romantic (even if never quite shown because of KM).

Instead, they made him resigned/content to live the rest of his days not knowing what became of his people. That’s not sexy, that’s not him. And when they did that to him, it made me watch his character for the rest of the series like, “dude just wants to camp. How..bland.” I mourned the complexity he could have had. Not fair to him at all.

[starsfic]

One Pig's Mad Dash

Summary: @draw-of-the-moon's Chimera Parents AU:

Pigsy just had to suggest that the kids come along to his family's farmhouse with him and Tang. He just had to go to the store. Hopefully, Chimera will never learn that he let their kids get kidnapped. (Or, Tang opens a scroll labeling the locations of four golden weapons, only for him and Nya to get kidnapped by skeletons. Kai is recruited by a mysterious old man to learn spinjitzu, and Pigsy has child leashes for all three of them.)

“Oh, this is great! Smell that fresh air!”

It had been a long time since Pigsy had come to Gao Village. His family owned a house or two there, passed down from Zhu Bajie’s wife, Blue Orchid, but Pigsy had found more excuses over the years to stay away from it once he understood the story of his ancestor (and past life). Now, however, he couldn’t help it.

The summer house was lovely, having been well-maintained over the years. It had stayed mostly the same since it was first built in the Tang dynasty, but someone (he was willing to bet his cousin who had visited the American South once as a teenager and never got over it) had installed more modern things, like a nice big front porch that had a lovely view of the surrounding growing fields. The town was an hour or two’s drive away, leaving the Zhu family with peace and quiet.

“Grandadsy,” Kai sighed as he closed the door. “We get plenty of fresh air back home,” Nya made a noise of agreement as she followed her brother. “You don’t have to keep pretending this isn’t to get one over on Yeye Demon Bull.”

“Rude,” Pigsy scoffed as Tang took the key he offered and headed to unlock the door, leaving him to wrap his arms around the younger two and pull them close. “Rude, rude kids. Of course, I want to spend time with you.” Sure, he was a little annoyed at all the grandkid time that Red’s parents had been getting recently, but it was fine.

“Hey!” Tang called from the door before Kai or Nya could answer beyond giggles. “Come on, the car’s not gonna unpack itself, and I’m hungry!”

Pigsy sighed, releasing the siblings so they could do as commanded, marching up to his husband. “I don’t have all the ingredients for noodles, yet, Tang,” he said. Tang sighed with a pout. “I’ll need to drive to the grocery store after we finish unpacking. Think you can survive until then?”

Tang groaned, clearly fighting back a smile. “Fine,” he said, moving to help Nya and Kai. “It’s not like the house is gonna blow up the moment you turn your back.”

Ugh, he shouldn’t tempt fate like that. Before Pigsy could dwell on that, an argument drifted in the wind.

“You have a way too big backpack.”

“Well, yours is small! What do you have in there, just your lipstick?”

Pigsy sighed and headed to help Tang and the grandkids before Nya froze Kai again. He didn’t bring the icepick.

-_-

It was easy enough to unpack everything, including all the food they had brought. With that, Pigsy said farewell and headed out for the grocery store for supplementary ingredients.

The moment Pigsy's car disappeared, Tang turned to Kai and Nya with a grin. "Wanna see something cool?"

"Yeah!"

"Absolutely!"

"Great!" Tang led them to the kitchen table, where he had set the poster container down. "Now, nobody except the museums knows I have this yet. I'm gonna be studying this with the Ninjago Museum of History for an upcoming exhibit."

"Yeye, stop teasing us!" Kai groaned. "Show us the cool thing!"

"Alright, alright!" Tang fished out a pair of gloves from the container and then pulled out what looked to be an aged scroll. "In Japan, there used to be a religious order of ninja who believed that their founder created the world with four golden weapons. After a battle with evil, he supposedly hid these weapons in secret locations across the country and created a map to hide them." The scroll unrolled, revealing a map. Four weapons, drawn in gold, were set in different spots across the map. "If this is true, this will be the biggest archaeological discovery in Japan!"

Nya paused, her excitement fading to be replaced with confusion. "If this is Japanese, then why is it in China?"

"Well, considering my expertise in magical McGuffins," Tang smiled proudly as the two young adults sighed. "They wanted me to look it over and maybe talk to some of the older demons and see if they knew anything-” He paused, looking around.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, do you feel that?”

Kai looked around. “What?”

“The rumbling.”

“I don’t.” Something crashed, hard enough to shake the kitchen and its inhabitants. Kai landed on his butt, looking widely around as Nya grabbed Tang, both of them steadying themselves with each other. Now, the rumbling was audible, like when Long Xiaojiao raced against huge trucks, but close enough that Kai could feel the rumbling in his teeth. “Now I do!”

“What is-”

Nya’s shrieked question was cut off as the front of a truck dug into the house.

-_-

Welp, pickings had been scrawny at the store on the basis of snacks, but at least they had fresh vegetables and animal bones! It had been a long time since Pigsy had thought of freshly roasted marrow, but now he couldn’t help but lick his lips. Animal bones were pretty rare for human consumption in Wàn Qiān Chéng, since they were mostly reserved for carrion-eating demons, but not out here. It would be a great treat!

That was the last Pigsy thought of dinner when he turned the corner and saw the yard.

It looked like someone had taken a bulldozer, several bulldozers in fact, and had a fight with them. Dirt and grass had been churned up and spat up to make a massive mess. The front of the house looked bashed in to boot. All around the area were tracks of those bulldozers and footprints. Pigsy parked at the edge of the mess and stumbled out.

Fear gripped his throat tight. He had been terrified when Flower Fruit Mountain had been destroyed, yeah, but that didn't compare to the horror at staring at his family home destroyed in such a violent way. Even worse, he couldn't hear any of his family.

"Tang?! Kai!" Pigsy scrambled for the house, waiting for anyone to respond. "NYA!" His shout for his youngest grandchild produced nothing but horrible silence, his yell echoing off the landscape.

They were gone.

Pigsy turned away from the kitchen and looked around, biting back the urge to cry. Instead, he studied the ground. He had brushed up on his tracking and foraging skills after the run-in with Scorpion Queen, not wanting to miss something and be caught off-guard.

There were the tire tracks, yes, but also footprints. Most were unfamiliar bootprints that were like the Bull Clones’, paired with weird shuffling marks that went back and forth. However, a familiar sneaker pattern was at the very edge of the scene, decorated with little flames that matched the boots Red Son wore. It walked away, towards the road, next to a pair of what looked like slipper prints.

Someone or something had burst in and taken his husband and his grandchildren, at least Nya and Tang. Kai had walked away with someone. Pigsy felt his hands clench into fists. His first instinct was to call his son, let him know what happened, but he held firm. If he did that, if he proved to be so irresponsible-

No. He could kiss time with his grandkids goodbye.

Pigsy pulled out his phone and dialed the fourth number. “Wukong?” He said as the monkey picked it up with a yawn. “You still have the number of that construction company?”

Wukong was hesitant when Pigsy revealed what happened. He pushed against the plan as Pigsy moved around the kitchen and rustled through their bags, ears on autopilot as he raided his cooking supplies. He wanted to rush over and help Pigsy track down Kai. He wanted to tell Qi Xiaotian, Long Xiaojiao, and Red Son.

“No,” Pigsy huffed, stuffing some seasoning packets in the front pocket of Kai’s backpack. “The kids aren’t expecting us back until by the end of July. I have plenty of time to track them down.” And beat their asses. “I got this handled. Just fix the house.”

“Okay, but, you know Xiaojiao is gonna check her tra-” Before Wukong could finish, Pigsy hung up, right as his phone buzzed. Pigsy glanced back, wondering if Wukong had called him back to finish whatever he was going to say and winced when Wukong’s name wasn’t the name flashing on the screen. 

Xiaojiao, as if summoned, was calling.

He dismissed the call and shoved the bile of guilt down his throat. He had until the end of July. It would be fine. 

Pigsy picked up his wok and smiled at the pulse of energy he was greeted with. He wasn’t exactly sure how the rake worked, shifting from rake weapon to simple wok, but he wasn’t going to leave it behind in the face of whatever had taken his family.

He made one last stop at the van. In a storage container, pushed to the corner, was a bunch of emergency supplies, as well as three things that he had thought would be left in the past. Once those were wrapped up and shoved in the backpack, Pigsy took in a deep breath and let it out, slowly. This was it.

It was Pigsy’s turn to have a solo adventure.

He set off after those tracks.

-_-

Two months later…

This had somehow been the most fun and most nerve-wracking few weeks Kai had experienced.

In the wake of the skeletons’ attack on the house, taking Yeye Tang and Nya with them as well as the map to those crazy weapons, Master Wu had offered his hand. He was apparently from the religious ninja sect that his yeye had mentioned and he had been following both the map and him for a bit. He wanted to train Kai as a ninja to prevent the rise of his brother, Lord Garmadon. The same lord was bound to have Tang and Nya. 

Kai, who had been helpless in the attack beyond a few fireballs, agreed. After a quick note scrawled to Grandadsy, he had followed Wu into the forest. It had taken a few days and a boat trip, but they soon arrived at the monastery where Kai’s training began.

And then he had met his classmates.

Kai wasn’t really sure what to make of them at first. He had teamed up with Nya for so long that not having her by his side felt like a missing limb, only to be replaced by three too many. Cole was a stick in the mud, Zane was robotic that went beyond being a teacher’s pet, and Jay was way too chatty and interested in Nya the moment Kai mentioned her. Their team was shaky with the fact that Kai was the newcomer, used to being either a solo or duet act, while the other three knew each other well.

But that couldn’t last, not with determination and friendship. Over their time together, he would like to say that they had worked on their teamwork. They were still a little shaky, like fawns getting up on their legs, but Kai would say he trusted them. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be shaking his hips with Jay as Cole tapped out a rhythm on the drums he pulled from seemingly nowhere. Zane laughed along as Master Wu meditated, a scowl on his lips.

“Come on, shifu!” Kai said, holding out his hand. “Join us!” 

The answer he received was an annoyed scoff. "There is still one weapon left! We must get our sleep!"

Kai didn't even have to look to see Jay jump in, grabbing their shifu's shoulder and giving it a light shake. "Aww, Sensei. Look, you gotta admit, we're kicking their boney butts." Yeah! They had gotten three of the four weapons and the temple of fire was an hour or two’s walk. By this time tomorrow, the world would be safe. It wouldn’t be a little ridiculous to relax, right?

Kai nodded. "Get up here. Show us some moves!"

Wu looked at them and seemed to fold at their hopeful faces, his annoyed scowl disappearing into a lighter look. "I guess I could," he said, allowing Jay to help him up. "Now, this move is very special." He started to dance, seeming to prefer more martial moves than regular dance moves.

Zane spoke up before he could laugh at the silly dance. "But if done incorrectly, will it lead to disastrous consequences?"

Cheers went up around the campfire and Kai's heart had never felt so full of friendship. "Zane, is that a joke? A sense of humor... you found it!" He wrapped his arm around his white-gied friend, rubbing their cheek together, and only realized a second later, with Cole’s snort, how strange it must be. It was a little slip-up, considering he hadn't revealed his non-human form to his friends, but Zane seemed to soak up the affection with a pleased hum.

All the while, Master Wu sang and danced.

"Shake what your momma gave you. Yeah, look at this one now. Hmm... oh yeah. Spin round. Oh yeah. I put my feet-"

Kai didn't notice the circle of rope before Wu put his foot down.

"-dowAHHH!"

The yank happened too fast for Kai to realize what happened before a clang and a cry of pain came out of the darkness.

"Master Wu!" Cole jumped up and nearly ran into the darkness after their shifu, stopped only by Zane grabbing the back of his gi and pulling him close to the light of the fire. "Who's there!" Cole yelled out instead, holding up his fists. The others followed suit, glaring out. "If you come out peacefully, we won't hurt you!"

A noise that sounded faintly like a grunt of annoyance answered Cole, close to him. Kai shoved Jay towards the others, looking around. His ears tensed, listening for any noise, any movement, anything that suggested Master Wu was alright or the attacker was…well, attacking. “Come out with your hands up, and we won’t hurt you!” Kai allowed his hands to flame up.

Cole gasped behind him, but Kai glared into the darkness, waiting and ready. Bushes rustling and more grunts hit his ears before he leaned forward, hoping to catch sight of them, turning his body to follow the noises.

A faint smell hit his nose.

At first, it was just dirt, sweat, and the general smell of someone who hadn’t showered in days, like Bama or Baba when they got too deep in a groove with a project. But, underneath, was the earthy, rich smell of herbs, broth, and…noodles?

Realization struck the moment he looked across the fire and realized that the other three were huddled together with wide eyes. “It’s right behind you,” Jay squeaked, gripping on Cole’s arm so tight that it had to have been bruised.

Kai looked up.

He almost didn’t recognize the tall figure. He didn’t take this huge form often.

It was a shame that he didn’t recognize what he was holding before the demon lunged-

And the child leash clicked around him.

Realization came in slowly. At first, it was confusion. Why was Grandadsy here? Kai had left a note explaining everything! Then it was shock. His grandadsy, who complained about his back at least once a day, had knocked out a martial arts master. Then came in the indigent rage.

“A child leash? A CHILD’S LEASH!?” Kai began to scramble, just wanting the cursed thing off. Surely, it might’ve been acceptable when he was going through that weird phase of wanting to be like Yeye Demon Bull, but not when he was fifteen! “Let me out! Let me go!” He struggled furiously, trying his best to rip it or tear it off, dirt kicking up under his wriggling feet. Annoyingly, the damn thing didn’t even strain. Neither did Pigsy, glaring at the other ninja.

Kai bit at it, yanked at it, even allowed his disguise to fall away, revealing his true height. The child’s leash wasn’t built for that! There were some shocked gasps, but he didn’t dare look. His focus was on the cursed child’s leash!

Finally, he had to yield. Despite the strain and tears, the child leash held firm. He couldn’t even try to unlock the leash, since the lock was magical. 

He collapsed onto the forest floor to pant air into his lungs, totally ignoring how he probably looked like a toddler denied a sweet that entire time. “What are you doing here, Grandadsy?” he asked instead once air was in his lungs.

“I could ask the same thing of you,” the giant boar said, stepping into the firelight. “What were you thinking, running off with some random old guy?! You didn’t even call me!”

Kai scoffed, crossing his arms. “You let Baba run off with a random old guy all the time.” The second part made him raise a brow. “You didn’t find my note? I left it…” Huh, where did he leave it? He swore he left it…

“OKAY, TIMEOUT!” All heads turned to Cole. He took in a deep breath, looking from him to his grandadsy and back again as if he were missing an important piece to his puzzle, with brows furrowed together and his mouth pressed in a thin line. “He’s your grandfather?”

Oh boy. Here came the questions. Kai nodded anyway.

Jay spoke up, raising a brow. “And you’re a demon.”

Kai nodded again. “A yaogui, technically.” He didn’t mention that, technically, he was half yao, because he had never quite understood it.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Cole asked, his tone bordering on pissed or just confused.

Kai opened his mouth. Before he could, Zane spoke up. “Considering the amount of racism that exists in Japan against yokai and yokai-bordering people, where the Chinese yaogui fall under that umbrella, and Kai’s lack of knowledge about us and our views about, might it be assumed it would be safer to keep it quiet.” He turned his gaze, which bordered on soft, to him. “Am I correct?”

Uh… “Well, no, not really, I just didn’t think about it,” Kai shrugged. “I mean, yeah, I didn’t want to waste time with questions with Nya and Yeye Tang being held hostage.”

“Speaking of questions, I have a few,” Grandadsy huffed. “But,” he yanked on a rope, yanking Master Wu back into the firelight. The old man was groaning, so he was still alive, just with a massive bruise. “First, I think you guys need food. I can see your abs.”

Cole wrapped his arms around his chest self-consciously. “And what if we don’t want to?” Jay said boldly.

Grandadsy hefted up his wok. Jay made a little noise. Grandadsy, however, just shrugged. “Then you don’t eat. Now, Kai, can you grab your backpack? I have supplies.”

“What supplies?” Kai asked, reaching up and grabbing his backpack. “We’re out in the woods.” What tumbled out of his backpack was a load of ingredients, including a bag full of noodles.

“How?”

“I’ll explain it when we eat.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes after that, with Cole tending to Master Wu's goose egg and Jay and Zane running errands as Grandadsy cooked and Kai chopped or smoked. Jay finally broke it with "...so, your sister. Does she also have horns? A pig tail?" He held up his hands. "Not a deal breaker, just curious."

"Nah, she has antlers though."

Jay seemed to pause for a second before nodding, eyes glittering in the firelight. "Alright! Okay, I can work with that!" There was a pause, long enough for Grandadsy to snort, probably realizing the question that was coming. “...So, is she like... a deer?”

“Nah, a dragon. A long specifically.”

Jay paused for a few more seconds, clearly thinking. “How does that happen?”

“My parents are in a polycule, so we have the same bull bama but she has a dragon mama while I have a baba.” Here came the questions. 

“So, it’s safe to assume that, if your bama is a bull,” Jay said, eyeing the horns that continued to gleam, even when Kai had shrunk down. “Then your baba is a-”

“Monkey.”

“-pig excuse me?”

Kai nodded to Grandadsy. “He was adopted by him.”

Zane nodded, seeming to understand already. Jay looked like he had even more questions, but a groan turned his eyes away. Master Wu sat up, rubbing his head. “What in the world-”

SMACK.

Master Wu collapsed again, the spoon whirling back to Pigsy like a boomerang. “Is he important?” he asked, gesturing to the old man. “I haven’t received an explanation for what’s going on.”

Right.

Kai took in a deep breath and prayed that Grandadsy wouldn’t be too annoyed.

-_-

Pigsy was awoken by a slap on the arm. 

“Grandadsy,” Kai whispered. He was tempted to ignore it, but there was another slap on his arm. “Pigsy.” That made him crack an eye- ever since the battle with Azure Lion, Qi Xiaotian had never referred to him as Pigsy again, preferring Dad or Dadsy. He groaned, turning his head. Kai stared at him, eyes scrunched up in concern. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Kai pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing moment. Pigsy closed his mouth. They waited. And then, out of the silence of chirping crickets and the snores of the ninja…

“Kai.” They both craned their heads. In the bushes, her face hidden by shadow, was the red of Nya’s top. Now that she had gotten their attention, she turned. “I have to go.”

Okay, this is a trap.

After learning about the golden weapons, Lord Garmadon, and everything that this Master Wu had dragged his grandson into, Pigsy was on guard for traps. Garmadon sounded like a knock-off of Macaque, of course there was gonna be traps. There was no way he was going to think Kai was dead for a few hours.

“We need to go after her,” Kai whispered.

“Kid, she’s obviously a trap.” Pigsy sat up anyway. Kai had the glint in his eye that suggested that if he said no, he was going to go anyway, damn the child leash. “Why would they just let her go?”

“I don’t know, but even if she’s a trap, she could lead us to Yeye Tang and the real Nya.”

…well, that was a good point.

“I’m getting up,” Pigsy grunted, wincing at the crackling sounds from his back. “Oh, I am too old for this…” He should’ve remembered to bring a sleeping bag. “Let’s go, kid.”

Kai was already running. Pigsy followed behind, keeping a tight grip on the child leash. Through the woods they ran, the moonlight sometimes allowing a glimpse of Nya or her voice drifting through the woods, beckoning Kai to follow her.

Finally, the woods parted, revealing a massive volcano with smoke pouring out of the top, glowing magma rolling down the sides but not touching the red temple built into the side. A few worn red gates decorated the bridge forward. By the time they hit the path, Nya was throwing open the door, with one last “Kai…” over her shoulder.

Yeah, this was a trap.

Kai guided them forward, and Pigsy allowed it. Kai pushed the door open with a eerie creak. Most of the room he revealed was flooded with lava, a menacing face carved out of stone at the end of the room, a wide gaping mouth revealing a golden katana that glowed with power. Pigsy didn’t even have to guess that was the sword of fire.

But Kai’s eyes were locked on Nya, smiling at them serenely. “Nya!” he called.

“Don’t worry,” his granddaughter cooed, her gentle smile twisting into something more mocking. “I’m right here…” Nya’s form began to shift and twist, growing bigger and darker, revealing to be nothing more than shadows. “Brother.”

Kai growled. “Garmadon.” He reached back and-

Shit. They had left their weapons.

“Forgotten something?” the supposed king of shadows (Macaque would have thoughts about that title) cooed, taking clear delight in the panic encasing them.

Kai took in a deep breath. “You can’t hurt us here! You’re banished, trapped in the Underworld!” Pigsy nodded, unable to help the spark of pride at Kai’s assertive tone. Still, he had a feeling. Hopefully, this wasn't going the way he thought it was going to go.

"And that is why you are going to remove the Sword of Fire for me."

Yeah, this was going the way he thought it would.

Kai announced in the cliche hero way "I don't think so!"

"Are you sure about that?"

A door in the ceiling opened, lowering a cage to dangle above the lava. Inside, huddling close together, were Nya and Tang. Both looked a mixture of terrified and furious, with Tang glaring out as he held Nya protectively close as she fiddled with the lock.

“NYA!”

“TANG!”

“Pigsy! Kai?!” Tang pushed himself against the bars, a sweet smile of relief forming across his face. It had only been a month or two, but to Pigsy, it had felt like a lifetime. “What are you doing here?!”

“Rescuing you two!”

Garmadon stepped between the duos, glaring down at Kai with delight. Pigsy had to admit, he had them good. If Xiaotian was here, he would do it in a heartbeat. “If you don’t remove the sword, how else will you cut the chain to save your precious little sister and grandfather?”

“Don’t listen to him, Kai!” Nya called, wriggling the lock harder. “You know it’s a trap! I can free myself-” With one hard yank, the bobby pin she had been using fell into the lava. “Okay, that’s tight-”

The cage fell, making Tang and Nya scream. “Tick tock, tick tock-”

“Wait.” 

That voice had sounded weirdly familiar through this entire thing, but now his mind was picking up where he had heard it before. Pigsy squinted. It was hard to make out any real details, but he had learned from Macaque, enough to pick out a few details. 

“Misako?”

Four “Huhs?” rolled through the temple.

“I’m not crazy, right? You’re Misako Garmadon.” He had only met Tang’s rival from the Ninjago Museum of History a few times and her husband even fewer times, but it was hard to forget his face. While he was handsome, he always looked really ill.

“It’s just Garmadon,” Tang corrected. The cage had stopped a few feet above the lava, which didn’t do anything for Pigsy’s heart, but spoke about Garmadon’s bafflement. “Misako took his name.”

“Are you sure?”

His husband shrugged. “Fairly? I’m still not sure if that’s his last name or first name. And…” Tang leaned forward and adjusted his glasses. “Oh! You’re right!” He chuckled. “I kept hearing the others say Lord Garmadon, but I never put the pieces together! How have you been?”

The shadow blinked, caught off guard by the little side tangent, before those red eyes narrowed. “I do not have time for this mindless little game,” he growled. “Get the sword, Kai.” Without another word, the chain began to lower even faster.

Kai glanced back at Pigsy. Pigsy nodded. There would be words later.

He released the leash.

Kai grinned and didn’t waste time, neither the time of the cage dropping or the free time Pigsy was giving him. He launched forward, darting from rock to rock, adding a backflip for extra points. The sword pulled from the stone easily, his feet slamming into the next wall. “NINGAJO!” he called before spinning. A tornado of sparks and flames wrapped around him, heading straight to the plummeting cage.

The chain broke with a snap and the tornado caught the cage, slamming it against the wall. The fire cleared and all three sat, panting. “Kai!” Pigsy called, waving frantically. “Over here!”

“Coming!” Kai said, leaning back and grabbing Nya’s hand. “Stay close.”

"Trust me," Nya said, her voice having a tinge of fear. Tang reached forward and squeezed her free hand. "We're not going anywhere."

Pigsy looked around as his grandkids and husband inched their way towards the entrance. Garmadon had disappeared when Kai pulled out the sword. "Keep your eyes out." he called.

"Don't worry, Grandadsy," Kai said. "He can't hurt us here. He's only a shadow."

Macaque would definitely have words about that.

A dark chuckle echoed through the room. "Even shadows have their uses."

Nya saw the shadow stretch and move first. "Kai, look out!" Nya said, yanking her brother back in time to avoid a blade to the face as his shadow pulled away, glaring down at him with red eyes. Pigsy winced, feeling memories of a certain shadow play rise up. Based on Tang's look of discomfort, so did he.

"Stay back, Nya," Kai said, leaning forward in the pose that Xiaojiao must've taught him.

"Stay close, stay back. Make up your mind."

Tang pulled her into his hands. "Give your brother space, dear," he said.

Golden power encased them, and they disappeared in a flash, giving Kai more room for his duel. The moment they appeared before him and Tang started "Remind me to apologize to Xiaotian for giving him shit about forgetting his powers-" Pigsy was pulling them into his arms. He was still terrified and furious, but something in him eased. His family was here and, even if he had to strike them down, Pigsy would keep them safe.

Plus, it gave him an opening.

Tang looked down at the click and just sighed at the sight of the leash wrapped around him. Nya glanced down and, just like Kai, gaped. "A CHILD LEASH?!" she howled, piercingly enough that Kai and Garmadon both winced as Kai attempted to slash and cut the shadow versions of him. "I'M FOURTEEN!"

"Yeah, yeah, if your brother couldn't tear that off, neither can you-"

"Ahem." All turned, excluding Nya, who was focusing her rage on the child leash. Master Wu, supposedly, stared at them. "Please make room, I need to save Kai."

"Oh, uh-"

"Of course."

Master Wu nodded and marched forward. "Five yuans say that we have to save his ass," Pigsy whispered as the old man made his way to their grandson.

Tang chuckled. "You're on."

(He got five yuans, Jay mooning over Nya, and Cole glaring at Nya and Jay.)

-_-

The moment the farmhouse came into view, Pigsy felt himself melt with relief. Tang did too, even going as far as to sigh and then laugh. “We’re going to get away with this!” he chuckled, pulling out his wallet. “All we have to do is clean up and get into some normal clothes…” He slid the key into the lock. “And we can say that Kai and Nya made some new friends!”

“Uh…” Jay raised his hand. “We don’t have normal clothes.”

“Oh, we brought backups,” Pigsy said. Now that he was close to a bed, exhaustion was starting to eat at him. “It’ll be a little harder to explain the golden weapons, but we got it handled.”

“Yeah!” Tang pushed open the door. “And the kids will never-”

The lights clicked on and all of them froze.

Kai and Nya’s parents sat in the living room. The light had come from Xiaojiao, who sat in the armchair next to the light. Red sat in a rolly chair next to the doorway that led to the kitchen, and Xiaotian sat on the couch. All of them had unimpressed looks.

“The kids will never what, Tangy?” Xiaojiao cooed. Without another word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Pigsy didn’t even have to look at it to know what was pulled up on there.

Shit, he had forgotten about the tracker.

Pigsy’s first reaction was to turn and run out of the house. He knew it was a very short-term solution, especially when Xiaojiao started running, but it was a solution. Before he even stepped foot on the porch, his arm came down with a sudden yank. He glanced over his shoulder.

Kai and Nya, both laying on the floor, smiled innocently at him.

Oh, those little-

“Pigsy~” Xiaojiao cooed, eyes glowing green. Pigsy tried to release the leashes, but in all the chaos and to prevent him from accidentally releasing one of them, he wrapped the handles so tight that his hand was turning purple. He tried to take another step, but the kids seemed to get heavier somehow. A hand grabbed his shoulder.

“You and the other adults are in so much trouble,” Xiaotian whispered. “Surrender.”

Pigsy held up his hands with a sigh.

“I know.”

[tuliptic]

FS: but make it Financial Stability

I believe those who have trouble with finances may have thought about this, how to achieve financial stability, when will it happen, and more questions about this topic. Cuz, same, I still have trouble with my own finances, which was why I thought about this topic and to perhaps share some insights with y’all as well as myself.

Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and ask yourself the question. Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.

Pile 1    -     Pile 2

Pile 3    -     Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever that you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. That aside, I do not consent to my work or images used here to be used by third parties on this platform or other websites.

Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self made lyrics deck.

Pile 1

Overall theme of querent: The Hierophant rx

You’re someone who’s always thinking out of the box, trying new things and new ideas, despite the complaints and noises from others. You believe in your street smarts and they’ve helped you. What didn’t help you also helped you in a way, where you slowly become more grounded and think of the various outcomes instead of believing in one. Your spirit is full of energy and you work with it, reaching your highest good.

1. What is your definition of financial stability? Justice

You believe that financial stability is something critical and balance can be maintained. It’s like… There’s a balance of in and out, something stable. And they’re spent on things that are necessary. You do keep some aside for occasional leisure and luxury, but as long as your needs are fulfilled, you’ll be pretty satisfied with it.

2. What do you wish to achieve with financial stability? Five of Swords rx

You wish to stop feeling so defeated in life. You probably have been feeling defeated in terms of finance, maybe spending too much or things around you hadn’t been easy and you can’t save up for any necessary needs. So yeah, you wish to be freed from this feeling of despair, want to be freed from any fears of getting into trouble without the necessary finance capability. You also want to achieve that sense of peace you never had with financial stability.

3. When will I achieve financial stability? Strength

When you’ve regained your strength and have utilised them properly. I think you also should recognize your strengths, your plus point, what you’re good at, and to use them to your benefit. If you’re an artist, make sure you price your work accordingly; if you’re a translator, make sure your company pays you according to your skills. Something like this, recognize your strength and use them to your max. Have side jobs if you can. Work with your dreams, whatever you’ve dreamed of, and reach your highest good.

4. How should I achieve financial stability? Judgement, Ten of Pentacles rx, The Star rx

Be able to discern what is needed and what can be worked on. Do not let other people (especially your family) guilt trip you into giving them money. I’m seeing this guilt tripping a lot. Most of you probably have been giving your family too much to the point you have negative for yourself. This shouldn’t be the case. You should start nurturing yourself by rejecting any and every negativity in your life. Sure, family is difficult to say no to, it’s difficult to confront your family, but at least, set a clear boundary. What I’m speaking right now is gonna be difficult to digest, yet you know that you really need to take action. 

If there is anything that requires clarification (especially certain bills that you’re paying), clarify with the persons in charge. Who knows, you might be scammed. You also have The Star here as well, so there’s hope that things will be better. Dreams will not end, so don’t give up, work and walk towards them. All the best of luck in walking towards a new you, someone who’s financially stable in the future.

Overall energy: The Magician, The Sun, Five of Cups

You’re actually someone who’s hella capable of achieving your dreams, you’re also a good manifestor. You just need someone to bring some sunshine into your life, and you can generate good things with that solar power you’re receiving. Pardon my words as I’m running high on caffeine and low on sleep, but I hope you understand what I’m saying.

Yet now, you’re in a state of depression, of sadness, unable to escape the current phase you’re at. It’s stressing you out, it’s bringing you a lot of tears. You’re called to love yourself, to place yourself above everything. If things are difficult, try communicating with your loved ones. You may receive different insights.

Pile 2

Overall theme of querent: The Sun

There’s a new found hope in you that I’m seeing, where you’re reconnecting with your inner child through fun and play. You still give me a mature vibe, but you’re learning to appreciate your inner child’s curiosity and letting them run free in the meadows, by the stream and all. I’m seeing a lot of nature themed here as well, since there’s the meadows and all. Connecting to the earth?

1. What is your definition of financial stability? The World rx

You probably think financial stability is something that’s close to impossible to achieve. There’s so, so much to learn about finances, and paired with what inflation is like? It’s almost impossible to get the financial stability you craved for. However, you do try to learn about how and what financial stability is like, and how you can achieve it. There’s some air energy here where you are thinking a lot about how to utilise your finances.

2. What do you wish to achieve with financial stability? Nine of Wands

To be able to go through sudden tough times without much of a concern, that you have a fixed asset. I’m seeing that you have some worries about the future, wanting to save up for any possible emergencies. Yeah, that. You have been through some rough times and now, you’re probably working on ways to have a certain amount of savings to help you through sudden hard times. 

Know that sometimes, you can’t really rush things. Try to stay calm and take baby steps. Especially since finance is money related and money is earth related and earth themes are usually slow and steady. I hope I’m making sense here.

3. When will I achieve financial stability? Eight of Cups

I am feeling that there’s some sort of fear and self limiting thoughts here that you’ll need to walk away from. Also some sort of disappointment. See, there may be times that you’ve been disappointed. Maybe manifestation didn’t really work out well for you, or maybe you thought you’d get a certain amount of money but you got less than that. And since then, you’ve been having fears that you need a lot of money only you can be assured, but it only feeds more negativity into your brain. This is when you’re called to let go of those thoughts.

That aside, I’m also seeing a possibility of a community that will be helpful in assisting you achieving financial stability. Maybe by providing assistance or some community will be willing to pay for your services.

4. How should I achieve financial stability? Temperance rx, Five of Pentacles rx, King of Wands rx

You’ll need to regain the balance you’ve lost. The inner balance, the financial balance, etc. Every sort of balance, even to get back a balanced diet. Cuz once everything is in balance, a steady amount of riches can only come to you. 

This pile gives me the feeling of abundance. And some themes of partners. Y’all prolly have some 8H placements, maybe Venus or Jupiter in it or prominent Venus and/or Jupiter. You also give me the energy that you’d like to use your past experience to help out people who are going through a similar experience.

Overall energy: The Lovers, The Fool

There’s some form of romantic love that I’m picking up on, which I also mentioned in the previous paragraphs. The road to financial stability will be a long journey, so you’re called to let go of whatever burdens you’re holding, be kind to yourself and share the beauty of your journey with whomever you meet. It’s time to stop wallowing and questioning. Just plan and act. You’re acting on your passions and dreams on achieving what you want to achieve. Go for it, go get it.

Pile 3

Overall theme of querent: The Hierophant

I’m seeing you’re someone who’s somewhat traditional? Like… Following what has been taught in your household without thinking twice or even finding reasons to justify. I’m seeing themes of families here, but not in a very… positive view. It’s like the same toxic cycle that’s repeating itself again and again. You know you’re in that cycle but you can’t break out of it.

1. What is your definition of financial stability? The Magician

You believe financial stability is something… Where money keeps coming in (infinity sign). The Magician is a card of manifestation and you believe that money can come in by just manifesting, but just attracting them into your life.

However, you may have failed to see the other side of The Magician. This card is a card of alchemy. To gain something, another thing of equal value must first be lost. This is one part you’ve never seen, hoping for the cash to come in without doing any work.

2. What do you wish to achieve with financial stability? The Devil

I’m seeing addictive behaviours here. Some form of overspending as well. Like… With financial stability, you’d want to be able to lavish yourself with physical and material wealth. Not only for yourself, but also buying unnecessary things for your friends as well. Just… be able to spend money recklessly.

Of course, coming with this will be some discomfort and you may not be emotionally available when your friends come to you for help. There’s just… A lot of unsettling energy here in this. Remember, financial abundance is not financial stability. 

3. When will I achieve financial stability? Two of Pentacles rx

There’s some form of disorganisation I’m seeing here, lack of time management as well. You may think you’re working and doing your best to earn that cash, but you don’t notice you’re also losing some other forms of riches (love, connection, health) from overworking. It’s a sign that there’s too much movement, and you need to return to the roots, return to balance. Once you’ve done that, financial stability will come to you. You’ll see that you’ll welcome it easily and comfortably, instead of burning yourself out of whatever that’s remaining of you.

4. How should I achieve financial stability? The Hanged Man rx, Ten of Swords, The Fool rx, Five of Pentacles, Temperance

Stop delaying your rest, redefine what you wanted to achieve and come up with a realistic plan for it. Make sure your plans are sustainable and achievable. You may need to go through a significant ending that may be painful, may it be realising that your mindset is amiss, that there may be betrayals of any sort, and you’re called to acknowledge them and let them go. 

Stop being reckless with how you spend your money. There's some form of irresponsibility here that you are called to tackle. Remember to not be the Fool without any savings for emergencies. 

Also, remember that balance and moderation is necessary, spend on what’s needed, earn for what’s needed. Living honestly will make you stronger. You already know that you won’t be losing to anyone when it comes to feelings and determination, so get up again after you’ve fallen. Good luck and let’s go meet the new you in the future.

Overall energy: Wheel of Fortune

There’s a theme of divine timing and also actions that are needed to take from your side. Nothing will come to you if you don’t work hard for it, and now you need to align your view (spin the wheel) and head towards the direction you want to go. Remember to surround yourself with those who can support your new found vision and share your new found values. Structure is very much needed here and some of you may be Saturn dominant, or have prominent MC (maybe your MC makes some sort of aspect to your Sun or Saturn). You’ve wanted to be free, so reach out your hand to freedom.

Note: The energy here is very muddled, dark. It doesn’t feel as bright and hopeful as the other piles. The cards are messed, and they keep falling, like things are falling apart. I had difficulty breathing, as though there’s a weight on me, like… the energy is heavy.

Pile 4

Overall theme of querent: The World

You’re prolly someone who’s been working on yourself. A lot. I see that you’ve been through the various phases of life and you’re now assembling the pieces, assembling the lessons you’ve learnt. I’m seeing more tough and difficult lessons, but you’ve fought through them with grit and maybe, by pure spite. Still, you made it out. I’m so happy and proud of you for reaching where you are today.

1. What is your definition of financial stability? The Chariot

Financial stability is something that’s continuous. It’s like… Steady. Having a steady and continuous income so that your basic necessities are covered. I’m seeing it reaching at least the Love and Belonging stage of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs (read up on it if you haven’t known about it). 

2. What do you wish to achieve with financial stability? Three of Wands

Freedom. This card talks about overseas opportunities and I’m seeing it as having the financial freedom to go wherever you want. Sometimes, we’ve been so focused on dealing with the necessities to the point we’re unable to enjoy the things we’ve always wanted to. In your case, travelling may be one of it, may it be travelling for a break, or travelling to see a friend. 

You may also want that financial freedom to help those who are in need. You may probably have been helped by others and now, you want to return the favour. Or go on a trip with your friends. I’m seeing a lot of friend themed messages here tbh.

3. When will I achieve financial stability? Two of Swords rx

You’re currently in a stalemate, having difficult decisions to make. There’s a need for you to investigate and compare the choices you have, to discern and make sure that you’re not being manipulated into making certain finance related decisions. In the end, decisions will still need to be made, no matter how difficult it is. 

Also, I’m also seeing a possibility that you’ll find a solution if you’re encountering troubles. It’s like the bandage covering your eyes is falling kinda feel. But be aware that there may be hidden difficulties that you can’t foresee. Make sure to keep any documents with you to avoid any possible dispute during then.

4. How should I achieve financial stability? Ace of Cups, Queen of Pentacles rx, The Hermit rx

I’m seeing artistic flow here. Maybe you can use your artistic skills to assist you as your side job? Open yourself to inspiration and watch creativity flow through you, allowing yourself to be free and create art as freely as water. It can also be healing if you’re doing it as a form of meditation. 

You need to change the distribution of energy, finance and time you have for other people in your life. It feels like a personal alignment change, where you need to discern who to have in your life and who’s feeding off you. Surround yourself with people you trust, a community you trust in.

Create your own peace, prosperity and joy in your life. This sounds hard but it can be done slowly by retreating and meditation. I feel that you’ve been so… Anxious and overwhelmed by what’s happening in the external world that you’ve forgotten to tune into yourself, to allow your heart to breathe a bit. Your abundance lies in how peaceful you are with yourself. I hope I’m making sense here. It’s like peace is one of your greatest assets, and it’s something you need the most, especially when times are difficult.

Overall energy: The Star, Two of Cups

Two of Cups, a card I associate with romantic love and trust. Basically the total combination of the cards here just talks about how you’ve been attracting love and hope that prolly comes with the financial stability. And there’s Taurus here, to cultivate and to work on whatever passion and love. Also maybe cuz I did this reading on Valentine’s day and there may be something going on during then. I no longer make sense I know.

[harleyquilt]

Still Calling (Disco Elysium fanfic)

Summary: Dora is haunted by thoughts of her past after Harry calls her in the middle of the night, just before dawn. She laments what has passed and finds the resolve to continue as she has always done.

Words: 2,362~

Notes: The BrainRot is taking hold! Finished the game recently, and frankly, I'm obsessed. Just an introspective piece based on my favourite moment in the game. Hope you enjoy!

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Dora’s hands tremble, loosening her fingers around the cold, curved spine of her phone. She leans back against her soft cushions, the hard, wooden headboard underneath keeping her from collapsing entirely. She lets out a long, shaky sigh and squeezes her eyes shut, hearing the rustling of bedsheets beside her. A hand touches her shoulder – a light, delicate gesture, skin against skin – and she flinches, her eyes opening. Wide and alarmed. Her husband is watching her, his brows knitted together. He’s worried, she knows, and in hopes of relieving him, she offers a wry smile, placing her hand on top of his and giving it a small squeeze. 

“Sorry, I should’ve woken up sooner.” He speaks quietly, the room still dark. The sound of birds can be heard singing their morning songs just beyond their bedroom window. “It was him, right? Harrier.”

The name makes her heart clench. Her chest hurts.

Thankfully, Dora doesn’t need to say anything, her husband having answered his own question. Even so, she nods, biting her bottom lip. She looks back at the phone, and as if summoning him, the sharp trill of her ringing phone begins again. 

Calling. 

Calling. 

Calling. 

Still calling…

Dora’s husband leans over her and ends the call, silencing the excruciating, ringing noise. He leans back, now sitting up, and places a hand against Dora’s cheek. She leans into his palm, shutting her eyes again. Expecting Harry to call again, she waits silently for the phone to ring once more. But it doesn’t. She is instead left to wallow in the bitterness and pity that continues to ooze out of the picked scab that are her memories, a scab Harry picked through with his dazed ramblings and desperate pleas. She can almost smell the alcohol in his breath. It has been some time since she has last felt like this. Two years maybe, or three? She tries not to keep track, wanting to instead forget the history both her and Harry once shared. And for a while, she had, focusing instead on the present, with her husband and daughter. But it is never enough, it seems, the painful ache in her heart as prominent as it was the day she left him standing there, dumbfounded, on the crosswalk. 

“I shouldn’t have talked to him.” Dora keeps her eyes lowered, her bottom lip now sore. “I know I shouldn’t have. You don’t need to tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Her husband responds, his voice a soft embrace she desperately craved. “He caught you off guard. It was unfair to you. Selfish.”

Dora nods slowly, swallowing. There is an uncomfortable lump in her throat. “Yeah.” Her voice is quiet now. Hoarse. “Let's get back to sleep. I need to go to work soon.”

“Sure.” His hand falls away. She looks up then, relieved to see the understanding in his eyes.

“Thank you.” She truly means it.

Her husband lies back down, pulling Dora against his body and holding her in his arms. They’re long and thin, but comforting nonetheless. Just…different. She only remembers how different his arms are during moments like these, when the sound of Harry’s voice, his words, his fear, twist around her mind, smothering her thoughts with a steel-like grip. An intrusion to a peace she's trying to desperately maintain. Her husband kisses the back of her head, banishing her anxious imaginings, and his fingers lace through hers, their bodies tangled together. She wonders if he can feel the thudding of her heart, gradually slowing back to a calm, steady rhythm. 

Your voice sounds so beautiful.

Such words once made Dora’s cheeks grow warm and her body feel light and airy with an innocent, naive joy she will likely never experience again. It was a reminder of a youth untainted by the reality that would eventually find her, find them, while they blindly crashed into the mirage that was once their dreams. There would be no returning to what once was, they knew, and that realisation was enough to burn away whatever remnants of the child-like joy that had originally brought them together. Hearing those words again, after so long, left her chest feeling hollow, his love an echo rupturing the pillars of bone and soft, fleshy innards within. Why could he not move on? Was this her punishment, for thinking she could walk away from the burning wreck of their relationship? For knowing that there was no repairing what was unrepairable? 

Dora takes a deep breath, wishing away these tormenting speculations with a long, slow exhale, willing herself to sleep again. She listens to her husband's breathing, his chest rising and falling in tandem to her own. The birds continue to sing, the darkness of the sky giving way to the light of dawn. Soon, the sun will peek between the tall, brick apartment buildings, bringing with it the morning and its warmth. It is a comforting thought, knowing time will continue to move on, as it has always done, as it will always do. And soon, sleep pulls her back into the depths of her mind, spindling her imagination into shapes, colours, and sounds – a spectacle of dreams that will swarm her mind with emotions she will never be able to describe, not with words. 

.

.

.

“Harry…” Dora sighs, feeling his rough, calloused hands hold hers. They’re large– could easily crush hers, if he really wanted to – but he instead holds them like they’re made of glass. Like they will break under the slightest pressure. Perhaps he is right, a notable tremble in her limbs.

“Please,” he’s shaking his head, and though the sound of the city continues its loud barrage of noise around them, his quiet voice persistently reaches her ears. It reminds her of the music that once brought them together, except that it is now warped beyond recognition. “Please, let’s head back home. Let’s talk about this. You don’t have to leave, not like this.”

“No, Harry.” She looks back to the aerodrome station down the street, and then her watch. Time continues to tick away, mercilessly so. No, this is a favour, to her and her alone. Time is doing her a favour. “We’ve talked enough. I need to go, or I’ll miss my flight.”

His lips quiver, trying to find the right words to say. Going down his list. Trying every line, pursuing each question. Hoping to find a combination that will work. Again and again, until there’s nothing left to say. It would have been less painful had she left during the night, she thinks. No, even then, he’d realise something was off and find her, just as he had done now. It was inevitable, just as it had been inevitable for her to come to this decision.

“I don’t–” He struggles to speak, his voice cracking as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. “I can’t do this without you, Dora. Don’t do this.” 

Perhaps he saw at that moment that there was no changing her mind, the resolution settled in her calm, ocean-like eyes. There was no compromise to be seen, no remaining doubts to pry into, no alternative to dig out with his bloodied, bruised fingertips. It was simply too late, the moment of no-return having passed long ago. And realising this, a panic seizes him, a despair in not knowing what to do next. She hoped that it would be enough to walk away, but…

He falls onto his knees, still holding onto her hand. An anchor slipping out of his grip. There are people watching, their eyes set on their tragic display. It is nothing more than a performance to these people, and for this play, Dora is playing the role of the villain. She bites her lip, finally tugging her hand free, her breathing unsteady.

“It’s too late, Harry.” She’s already moving, moving quickly down the street, knowing that he continues to watch her, begging through his heartbreak. “I have to–

“Dora?” 

Dora blinks and gives her head a quick shake. “Hm? Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

Her co-worker is quiet for a moment. “You look tired.” He finally remarks, pushing a cup of brewing tea towards her. “Did you not sleep well?” 

There's a strained smile on her sore lips. “Not really, no.” She takes the cup of tea and holds it between her palms, the warmth seeping into her skin. “Bad dreams.” 

Before the co-worker can respond, however, the academy bell begins to ring. A loud, shrilling noise that is uncannily similar to a phone ringing. Dora’s stomach continues to twist and turn with anxious rumination. Looking back from the ringing bell, her co-worker gives her an encouraging pat on the shoulder before heading off to his next class. It is a free period for her, and so, she leans back against the counter and brings the cup to her lips. Dora watches the world outside from the window beside her as she savours the aroma of her berry-flavoured tea. 

The sky is overcast – dark and dense, the clouds heavy with rain – and the world below is a dull array of browns and greys. It will be spring soon, but the touch of winter decay continues to linger, the ground muddied and damp, and the trees naked, their branches rattling against the wind. Mirova is beautiful during the warmer months, but during the late autumn and winter, it isn't too dissimilar to Revachol. 

Revachol…with its congested roads and snake-like rows of buildings, fat and bloated from the tenants lurking within. All the colours seemed muted, accommodating the pessimistic depression that hung over the city. There was a charming ugliness in it all, and alongside the constant noise of the city, she could hear the symphony of urban life: passing cars, distant shouts and petty arguments, a faraway gunshot or two, and the sound of music interlaced between it all. Yes, the music – that is what Dora remembers most about the city. A stream of different tunes, rhythms, and beats flowed between the cracks in the pavement stones, cutting through the smog that permeated the city, interconnecting the entirety of Revachol with new age melodies and lyrical agony. Disco was the rage when she was young, Dora remembering the flashing lights and outlandish dancing that made your heart race with unrestrained exhilaration. Revachol parties, they used to say. They – the voice of the city itself, said with distinct pride. She can almost hear the music now, Dora's eyes fluttering shut. 

She met Harry through Disco. He was just a regular man back then. No, that is not entirely true; he was The Man, a Cool Dude, stylish, yet manly. His body was broad and muscled, softened with the charming smile she vividly remembers admiring. That she remembers seeing falter year after year. In fact, much of what he became is unrecognisable, compared to who he once was. 

Dora frowns, remembering how she eagerly filled his head with hollow dreams, pointing him down a dead-end path. It was the age of disco – there was no anticipating the cold, cruel future that awaited them, like a sneaking predator and its bleeding prey, waiting and watching for the right moment to pounce, crushing the prey's neck between its blood-soaked jaws. Maybe they should've realised sooner, should've understood that life wasn't so forgiving. Maybe they would've, had the music not been so intoxicating. 

Even so, Dora continuously questions if it was her fault that they ended up the way they did, having been the one to convince Harry to become a cop. She shakes her head, drowning out her thoughts with the hot, sweet taste of her tea. Her tongue tingles after she swallows, pushing back the memories leaking into her mind. 

She has already spent too much time thinking about what ifs, about what she could've done differently. She has already lamented her failings as Harry's partner, wishing she could somehow break the laws of the universe and turn back time to the moment she convinced him to take that cursed job. But she can't, and it is a truth that she has accepted long ago. 

“I shouldn't have talked to him.” She mutters, her grip tightening around her cup. “Why did I talk to him…?” 

She looks back outside, seeing a young couple walk arm-in-arm towards the academy. One looked remarkably like Dora when she was younger, the girl's hair a bright blonde, and her round, innocent eyes a vivid blue. Her partner is a handsome man, tall and dressed neatly. A businessman, perhaps? They stare longingly into each other's eyes, exchanging secret messages only they can hear and envisioning a future only the inexperienced can hope for. 

Is it bitterness rising up Dora’s throat? Regret? She had nothing to regret, knowing that she is truly content with her loving family and stable job, a dream life she has managed to finally achieve, despite the failings of her past. So what is this discontent? She looks away, her eyes downcast. 

“I had hoped…” Dora mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut. “That you would've moved on.” 

But what more can she do? The greatest favour she can do for him is one she has already decided upon – to leave him be, to allow him to be his own person once more. It felt irresponsible in some ways, as if she were willingly leaving him to rot someplace her eyes cannot reach, but it was the only solution that she could find when despair continued to converge onto her. Onto them. Yes, this is the only solution, both back then and now. 

Disco has come to its natural, inevitable end and it was time to move on.

Taking a deep breath, she finishes her drink and walks away from the window, ready to continue with her day. It won't be easy, but she has trudged through deeper depths than this. She'll be fine, she knows. 

And far, far in the distance, beyond the twisting, enigmatic span of the Pale, where the icy winds cut through the dark, wintery night, and the air carries the stench of an unsolved murder, a detective finds the motivation to continue with his investigation. 

[dreamingofep]

Strangers in the Crowd pt. 8

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No, just another one of my delusional tantasies.

Prompt: You and your best friend are on are annual girls trip and go to see Elvis at the International. Little did you know this would be a show you'll never forget. Fem!Reader

TW: SMUTTT, cussing, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/ tension, angst, the usual really dirty stuft.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for patiently waiting for this next part. I had so many ideas of how I wanted this part to turn out and had lots of rewrites so I hope you like the version I decided to go with! Sorry for any spelling mistakes or overall goofs.

Feel free to message me or comment what you think!🖤

Both of you sneak downstairs after your long absences and Elvis gets snickering looks from the guys. He shuts them up real quick with one glance as he shakes his head at them.

You’ve never experienced being in the company of such a powerful man. Not necessarily physically but emotionally. It’s almost as if everyone has this sixth sense when it comes to Elvis and they all know he’s walked into the room and he commands your attention.

Elvis leads you back to the kitchen where his cooks were cleaning up for the night.

“Would you like some dessert darlin’? I feel like somethin’ sweet,” he says cutely as he leans down for a kiss.

You bat your eyelashes at him and smirk, “I thought I gave you plenty of dessert,” you say coyly.

He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head at you. “Well you see,” he says low, pulling you into him with his hand on your hip, “this is my house. And in my house, I get to do whatever I please. So if that means that I want more than one helping of dessert, then that’s what I’ll get. And I will be wanting more dessert when I get you back upstairs. Is that okay with you?”

Your body shivers at the sound of his smooth voice and all you can do is nod your head subtly. The corner of his mouth twitches as he tries to hide his overall pleasure in seeing you crumble for him. You sit back down at the table and wait for Elvis to bring over the ice cream.

He watches you as you take every bite and lick the spoon clean. You didn’t notice him staring at you right away, but you feel his piercing cerulean bore into you. You look up as you’re licking the spoon and slowly pull it out of your mouth. He takes a short breath in and bites his lip getting a dangerous look in his eye.

“I know that look… You’re thinking about things you probably shouldn’t be,” you tease.

A big smirk takes over his face and he leans in close to you.

“Just thinking about how well you use that mouth that’s all.”

Blood rushes to your face as you maintain eye contact with us him.

“Yeah you should, you were the one that bought me how to use it properly,” you tease and lean over the table to kiss him. He snickers at you and lets you eat your ice cream in peace.

After you’ve finished, he pulls you into the piano room and he plays a few of his songs. His voice rang out so clearly and beautifully. Having this private showing with him was special and couldn’t help but get emotional. When he started to sing some gospel, the tears started to flow and you were in awe at this perfect man, his voice sounding near perfect. Sitting down next to him on the bench, you wrap your arms around his torso and listen to the meaningful words he sang about the lord.

You both sang and played at the piano for a few hours and you wouldn’t have minded him playing all night. After finishing a song, he turns to hug you and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“I want to show you another room I didn’t get the chance to show you earlier,” he says as he takes your hand and leads you away from the kitchen. He takes you to the back side of the house and takes you down the stairs to the basement.

The green lush carpet feels plush underneath your toes as he leads you down to the dimly lit room. He turns the knob on the light switch and makes it a bit brighter where you can see the full details of the room.

From ceiling to floor was the same green lush carpet making it almost look like moss. You turn your head over to the back wall where you hear the trickling of water. The brick-covered wall had foliage coming out of the wall and running down the bottom of the waterfall. The furniture was all made from wood with plush leather seats on the chairs by the window and the main couch in the middle of the room. Every detail put into this room made it feel complete. It felt like you were in a completely different house let alone a different state. The tropical style of this room was very different and very much so Elvis.

“I like to call this place The Den,” he says proudly. You grin at the nickname and look back at him, “it looks more like a jungle room to me,” you say jokingly.

He laughs at your terrible joke, “yea a couple of the guys say the same thing but to me, it’s just The Den. It's where I go to think or just sit in the quiet. You don’t hear anything down here. It’s nice to get away from it all,” he says solemnly.

You step inside the room and get a closer look at the waterfall. It was gorgeous and the way it was backlit made it glow. Every last detail was fascinating and you could spend hours in here looking at all the beautiful furniture. The way the wood was carved in the armrests of the chairs and the bar in the back gave it such a unique feel.

Elvis sits down on the fur-lined chair across from the window watching you inspect every last detail. He doesn’t sit down perfectly upright, he has his long legs stretched out and slightly slumped in stature, his arms stretched out on the wooden armrests. You glance over at him and this entire body language exudes strength and sexual attraction. He has so much confidence running throughout him that it feels a little shy to be so close to him.

You stare at those long legs stretched out and spread open, inviting you in to take a seat.

“I like it down here,” you quip as you take a seat in his lap. He puts his arm around your hip and draws you closer to his chest.

“Mhmm I thought you might darlin,” he says low, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You lean in for a little peck on the lips but his hand is on the back of your head pulling you into a much more passionate kiss. You sigh when he gives you this much-needed attention. The weeks you two were separated was agonizing and your body couldn’t get enough of him.

“I want the rest of my dessert down here,” he says, his voice low and sultry.

His eyes darken as he looks over your body, hungry for your skin to touch his and your chest begins to rise and fall quicker by the thought of it.

You place your hand on his face, running your fingers through his obsidian mane, nice and slow, then grabbing a fist full of hair to pull his head back.

He lets out a gruff sigh and his hand finds the back of your hair again and pulls it forcefully.

“Ah ah ah, my naughty girl will listen to me,” he tuts. Your hand lets go of his hair and you nod at him.

“Stand up and take off your robe,” he commands making your body shiver.

You do as he says and pull the small bow at your waist, letting the silk panels come apart exposing your skin to the stagnant air.

You pull the fabric away from your chest and let your arms fall at your side, letting the robe fall off in a quick swoop.

Before you can turn around, you feel his hands on your hips, a blazing heat radiating off of him. His fingertips graze along the curve of your spine and back down to squeeze your ass in his hand. You let out a soft gasp as his hands continue to wander. He lets out a small groan as he gives you a firm spank. The initial shock of his hand on you makes a sting that radiates on your skin. He gives you another and the sting turns into pleasure. A moan comes from your throat and you inadvertently lean over slightly, placing your hands on his knees, giving him better access to you. Elvis finds this amusing as he hums quietly, rubbing the area that has grown red with his handprint.

His fingers trail up the inside of your thigh where he finds the drips of arousal leaking down your leg. He follows it up to your folds and sighs when he feels how wet you’ve become.

“Look at that, your pussy just crying for me,” he says as he rubs his fingers tantalizingly slow through your folds. You moan with the fiction he’s giving you and all you can do is nod your head yes to him. The coldness of his rings also graze your core and brings a jolt to your body causing your heart to dance wildly. Gently, he slips a finger in your entrance and twists and curls it deep inside you. You let out an agonizing moan and squeeze his thighs with your hands.

He pumps his finger slowly, making your pussy throb with need. His cold rings hit your entrance more as he pumps them faster inside of you, causing a needy whimper to come out of you.

You feel him pull his finger out and all you hear is him making a sucking noise. You look over your shoulder and watch as he licks his fingers covered in your wetness. This sends a pulse straight to your core watching Elvis lick every last drop of you from his fingers. You look away and squeeze your eyes closed in frustration. This man is going to make you lose every ounce of control.

You hear his zipper gets pulled down and the ruffle of his pants getting shimmied off his hips. You move to the side for him to kick the rest of his pants off and he pulls you back in between his legs, spreading them farther apart. He angles your hips down you feel his length graze your core. Your entrance is sensitive and you take a sharp breath in through your teeth as he plays with you fully on display. This teasing feels especially excruciating because you can’t see what he’s about to do next.

His hand glides over the curve of your ass and gives it another squeeze. He lets out a slow exhale as the tip of his cock moves through your folds, covering him in your arousal, and making you gasp when he rubs it on your clit. Your hips instinctively grind back and forth on him, wanting him to take care of this incessant throbbing he has created inside you.

He stills your hips and you hear a low grunt come from his chest.

“You’re so wet honey,” he moans, “I want you to be a good girl and sit down on this cock,” he asserts. You feel your heart gallop and your legs begin to shake with the command he’s given. He holds his length in his hand and lines himself up to your entrance and holds it there. You slowly sink down on him and gasp at the feeling of him stretching you, holding onto his thighs tightly as you two become one. He also lets out a deep murmur and gets a tighter grip on your hips, pulling you down on him more.

This time, he is taking it slow and trying to make you want more, making you take inch by inch until you beg for more. His hands continue to guide your hips down on him, enveloping his length tightly. He squeezes your ass and grazes your hole with his thumb. You lift yourself off of him and cry out, not ready for the overwhelming sensation.

He also moans losing the feeling of you on him and sighs in frustration.

“Sit back down baby girl, you’re not done yet,” he says firmly. You look back at him and see those eyes on fire and that wicked crooked smile beckoning you to come back for more. You want to drink in all this beauty that’s sitting before you and see his face as you fuck him. But he won’t let you, no matter how much you plead, you already know he’s not going to give in to your cries and have to listen to what he wants.

“Yes baby,” you whimper softly.

He pushes your hips back sharply and lifts his hips up to plunge deep inside your wet heat. You both cry out as he feels your core tighten around him, unaccustomed to the pressure and size of him inside you all at once. His length inside you is warm and pulsating, so hungry to take you how he wants most. He continues to move and fuck you deep with every motion of those talented hips. The coil in your belly tightens exponentially with how hard and fast he’s taking you. His thumb grazes your hole again and this time you moan at the sensation it brings.

His breathing behind you accelerates and groans when he sees your ass bouncing with each thrust. You look over your shoulder and see his jaw slacked, eyebrows furrowed, and the veins in his neck jutting out. It was a sight to behold and you could get off on that look alone. He looked so delicious, so focused on you and fucking you senseless that you wish you could take a picture to capture this exact moment.

You get more confident in yourself and swivel your hips back and forth on him causing a slur of expletives to come out of his mouth. You hope to god no one can hear you down here because both of you can’t hold back any of the sounds you're making. His hand is back in your hair and he gathers it all in a ponytail, pulling it swiftly.

“Elvis fuck!” You hiss.

A small chuckle comes from behind you as he pounds his hips into you.

“Being so good baby. Taking me so well,” he groans through his teeth.

You can’t hold on any longer and let yourself go. Your walls tighten around him and you cry out his name, begging him for more. You can’t stop moaning for him and saying how much you like it. His relentless hips buck up into you hitting the spot that sends you flying. His fingers dig into your hips and he lets out an animalistic groan as his length starts to pulse and fill you with his seed. You groan at the feeling and scratch at his legs unable to handle much else he’s giving you. He slow fucks you until he can’t anymore and your body feels worn down. He lifts you to sit on his thigh and you moan when he pulls out of you quickly.

You lean back onto his chest, both of you are breathless and your bodies damp with sweat. He kisses your neck and his hand slithers down your torso to find your swollen clit. He presses two fingers there and winds it in quick circles, making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“No, Elvis please,” you mewl.

“Shh baby, cum one more time for me you can do it,” he says seductively.

His fingers pick up pace and the coil in your belly tightens rapidly. Elvis groans in your ear, feeling your wetness spread over his fingers, continuing to encourage you to come apart for him.

Your hips grind into his slender fingers, putting more much-needed pressure on your throbbing bud. You feel so overstimulated, this entire day has been nothing but pent-up sexual tension between you two starting the second you saw him standing in the doorway of Graceland.

You feel your walls start to flutter and you quickly guide his fingers to your entrance and make him sink his fingers deep inside you. You cry out for him and moan when he hits your sensitive spot. You hear a rumble come from his chest and he nips your earlobe.

“Oh, such a naughty girl. You just love it when I’m inside of you,” he grumbles deeply. His fingers pick up the pace and continue to hit your G-spot. Before you know it, your walls are squeezing around him, throbbing sporadically, and more wetness spills out of you.

Tears fall down your cheeks, unable to hold back the emotions of this unconsolable heat this man gives you. You gasp and try to catch your breath again. He pulls his fingers out of you and puts them to his lips once again. You look over at him doing this and moan his name. His tongue flattens and he licks them clean, locking his eyes with yours and keeping you there.

“I like the way you taste baby,” he rasps, sending a tingle to your core.

“Show me how well you use that tongue later,” you plead.

His cute dimples appear and he looks at you intensely.

“Oh, I can have even more dessert?” He teases.

You can’t help but giggle and smile at him.

“This is your house, after all, you can do whatever you please,” you wink.

“Sounds good baby,” he coos.

“Let’s go upstairs now, get you all ready for bed,” he says tenderly.

Elvis lifts you off of his lap and helps you back into your robe. He then carries you in his arms and up the stairs. Luckily no one is in the front of the house and Elvis is so quiet, you doubt anyone would have noticed him like a stalking tiger in the night.

Elvis gently pushes his bedroom door with his foot and puts you on the bed. He covers you in kisses and holds you tight.

Home… your brain screams.

No, no stop saying that, it’s too soon to start thinking like that. This is good, what we have is good but it’s not there yet. There’s so much you don’t know about one another. You lay there in your fit of denial and let him shower your body with kisses and nip marks along your collarbone.

“Did you want to take a shower? Unwind a bit?” He says softly. You smile up at him, unsure if he’s real or not.

“Sure honey, thank you,” you say sheepishly.

He helps you with the faucets and gets the temperature to your liking. He gives you one more kiss and leaves you alone, shutting the door behind him.

You let the hot water splash across your face and relax your aching muscles. You didn’t realize it til now how tired you were. After a full day of traveling and having Elvis tease you to oblivion, you were looking forward to getting into bed with him and snuggling up to his warm body. You stand there in the shower for a while, taking your time and lathering your body in the luxurious soap that was sitting on the shelf.

You step out and grab a towel off the rack and wrap it around your body. The mirror was foggy and you swipe a clean streak with your hand to reveal your reflection. You can’t help but smile at the realization that you’re in his bathroom, getting ready to go to bed with him. It all is a dream and you think you’re gonna wake up from it any moment from now.

You open the door to the bedroom and Elvis sitting on the bed with a book in his hand. You run to the bed and jump on top of him covering him in sloppy kisses. He lets out a wheezing giggle and puts the book aside.

“Wow I wasn’t expecting a love pounce,” he chuckles, “that must have been a really good shower.”

“Yeah, you might say that,” you say as you give his nose a kiss.

“Well it’s my turn to have a life-changing shower,” he jokes and picks you off of him and lays you down with the pillows resting comfortably under your head and neck.

He shuts the door and you hear the squeak of the faucet get turned on. You pick up the book he was reading and find it fascinating. It was a philosophy book on existence. This man was hungry for knowledge and kept wanting to learn more based on the pile of book in the corner of the room.

You get comfy under the blankets and continue to sift through his book. A devious little idea pops into your head as you’re waiting for Elvis to get out of the shower. You want to leave him more Polaroids and set them out on his side of the bed for him to see.

You reach over to his nightstand drawer to grab the camera. It’s sitting at the top of the pile along with the pictures you two took a few weeks ago in Vegas. You smile when you see them, happy that he still has them and he liked them enough to keep them by his bedside. You sift through the photos, remembering how thrilling it was taking these and how some of them make you blush just thinking about what you did.

You flip to the next picture and your heart flops in your stomach. Your eyes can’t seem to comprehend what you’re seeing. In the grainy, blurry picture you’re holding, is a blonde woman with his cock in her mouth. You feel the bile form in your throat and your heart racing uncontrollably.

You flip to the next picture and it’s a different woman, laying on her back with his fingers inside of her, looking like she’s calling out to him with her face contorted in pleasure. Your stomach twists and turns violently looking at these pictures of him doing these things to other women. There’s nothing you want to do more than scream and shout at him then proceed to puke at his feet.

You dumb fuck, you actually thought…

You flip through a few more to only find numerous other women in various positions with Elvis touching them or him fucking them. You throw the pictures on the bed in a fit of anger, disappointment, and shame. You wouldn’t listen to the voice in your head screaming that this was stupid in the first place but you decided to throw Elvis Presley a bone and think you can actually change him. That he would only have eyes for you and he’d forget about all the other millions of women that would throw themselves at him to have a chance to get into bed with him.

Dumb fucking bitch…

The room starts to spin and the aroma of the room is overwhelming to you and need a way out. You find your slippers and your purse sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. Your feet can’t keep up with you as you run down the stairs. At the bottom your panicked eyes find Jerry’s walking from the kitchen. His eyebrows furrow as he sees the frantic energy coming off of you.

“Y/n what’s going on? You look frazzled,” he says curiously.

“Jerry, I-I-I need to get out of here. Please take me to the airport,” you say with your voice shakey and low.

“What? Elvis didn’t tell me that you were leaving so soon. I don’t think I-,” you cut him off needing to get out of this house before Elvis comes out of the shower and discovers you’ve gone.

“Jerry please,” you snap, “I don’t care if I need to sleep at the airport I can’t be here. Please just drive and we’ll figure it out on the way there,” you plead. His eyes grow worrisome and he nods his head and goes to the telephone. Within a minute, he gives you a look and grabs the keys, and leads you to the door.

The drive is short to the airport but it feels too long of a drive with the tension in the air and your nervous bouncing leg. Jerry glances at you in the seat shaking, fidgeting with your seat belt every two seconds.

“Do I want to know what happened…” he says softly. You keep looking forward and shake your head no.

“I’m gonna get in a lot of trouble for this,” he says with a sigh.

You squeeze your eyes shut and rub your forehead with your hand.

“I’m sorry Jerry. I don’t mean to put you in this position. I just… I can’t be with him… I’m not what he wants…” you say insecurely with tears starting to well in your eyes.

He nods his head and stays quiet as he parks the car.

“It’s not you dear. Elvis is just… he’s very complicated. And that complicated thing about him transfers over when it comes to women. Trust me when I say it’s not you.”

You wipe the rolling tear down your cheek and smile looking down in your lap.

“Let’s get you home,” he says gently and opens the car door. He walks along the front side of the car and opens the door for you and you step out, seeing the Memphis sunshine, for what you hope, to be the last time.

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