#to explore far away and find a family within others

[soapoet]

W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Hay Lin; next big change

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: 7 rings by Ariana Grande

ready for takeoff? well, buckle up, buttercup! you may have experienced delays in relation to your passion projects, studies, work, or side hussles, but things will be picking up speed soon. the more thought, intent, effort, planning, or work that you have put into things even during a stalemate, the greater the speeds you'll be reaching once things finally get going. you might experience this is as an easy breezy walk in the park or a roller-coaster ride, all depending on how much faith you've poured into this. you may hear back from that job or school with positive news, or have a successful launch to a passion project. there could be a raise or a promotion of sorts in store, and you seem to find yourself at the right place at the right time a lot. you feel luckier than ever before and things just work out in your favour. this is a huge relief considering you've had to work twice as hard as everyone else or deal with more setbacks and variables.

you'll be experiencing a very different timeline overall, especially with all the nuisances and heaches that just always found their way to you to take away your focus and drain your energy. your schedule may get a little crazy and hours start to feel like the most valuable currency. this effect is likely to be long-lasting and keep you busy for quite a while. do remember to afford yourself some celebratory rest, too, you've certaintly earned it. but all in all it seems like you'll be enjoying the change of pace and the various doors that finally open up for you, and you've been so ready to explore new opportunities and uncharted territories for so long that it's no surprise you'll want to do and see it all and be on the go.

02.

Shufflemancy: Lavender haze by Taylor Swift

whether or not you have travels planned, be it near or far, there is a distinct element of newness, adventure and exploration coming in for you. something may have had you feeling stuck in the daily grind and routines and had you bored out of your mind. you're about to gain some freedom and independence, almost as if shackles come undone and you get to run wild and free. you'll be meeting new and interesting people, some of whom quickly turn from strangers to lifelong companions and partners in crime. soul family members are headed in your direction and you'll look back to this time later in life and joke about all the funny little synchronicities and how within a couple weeks you could've sworn you've known each other your whole lives.

besides platonic connections, you may find yourself in the spotlight attracting many admirers, especially if you've felt like the sea has been emptied of all the fish. some of these are just fun and flirty encounters that serve mainly to put a pep in your step and make you hold your head up high. there may be drama in store, but nothing too messy. in fact, you may actually enjoy the telanovela of it all. one or two of these will stand out to you, and you might find yourself weighing pros and cons between two people you would seriously consider for something more. so long as you let things happen to you rather than trying to force anything or play private detective, you'll be sure to make the right decision as events and information unfold themselves to you naturally. you may even be surprised by how things turn out when you don't let bias or expectations tip the scales one way or the other and simply observe how the tables turn all on their own.

03.

Shufflemancy: Sleep alone by Two Door Cinema Club

you may sigh in relief as you finally make it out of a stressful situation. whilst everyone else seem to be making plans, you're clearing out your calendar. you may want or truly need to recharge, reconnect with yourself and get some peace and quiet. the world is looking a little brighter and it's easier to breathe again. when was the last time you had the chance to just sit and pay attention to your own thoughts and feelings?you may feel like you've been sleepwalking, living life for a while fast asleep and going about your days on autopilot. now you're awake again, and it's not to go wild and crazy but to reflect on yourself and how you feel. you may be doing quite a bit of soul searching at this time and asking yourself a lot of important questions. and not just asking, but really pondering and seeking answers. who are you? what do you want? what do you need? this journey of self discovery will make you feel so at peace and you'll find yourself unfazed by things that previously would have cost you your peace of mind and good night's rest. turbulent emotions calm down and the pendulum swing slows. you find the grey between black and white, rise above to see the big picture, and make a home in the in-between.

some people may try to rile you up, and others can be disappointed by, or even judgemental of, your newfound calmness. when you no longer show up to fight wars that aren't yours and decide to do what feels right to you, some will take that as betrayal, even when your values still align with theirs. real ones will see that you're achieving more good through love instead of hate and commend you for your new approach and how much it let's you grow. you may be taking a step back to connect with hobbies you've had to drop previously. through working on your natural talents and honing your skills you may find yourself collaborating on a project regarding something important to you. and it doesn't feel forced or like a burden when it's on your own accord for once. allow yourself to enjoy your own company and honour your feelings and interests. even if your change in course ruffles some feathers at first, you will gain a lot of respect and admiration for choosing your own path and staying true to yourself.

[chocolatechipkiki]

Do You Wish to be in Control?

Soft!Loki x Fem!Reader

Smut

Warnings: Smut; Fluff; Established Relationship; Reader is not quite a little, but an established dominance from Loki has been accepted, and being questioned; male receiving head; PinV sex; slight cockwarming; choking; soft degradation. (Let me know if I miss any!)

Summary: After a long day of exploring the place in which Loki calls home, Asgard, the sun begins to set and you two find your way inside his personal chambers, seeking warmth from the cold night. Things go from an adorable moment to something a little more... sinful.

*****

The sun begins to set over the vast ocean, leaving the edges of the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Before you two know it, the stars begin to appear, and Loki wraps his arm around you, smiling at the sight. 

"You know, all these stars are connected to the gods, do you not?" he asks, glancing down into your eyes. You continue to stare at the stars, and smile at the shapes your mind finds hidden in them. "That is our family up there. The gods look out for us all, and they are connected to everything that surrounds us. It is both beautiful and quite scary to think about, but," he pauses, his eyes twinkling in the starlight. "The gods are never too far away," he finishes.

You reach your hand up to meet his on your shoulder and intertwine your fingers, giving his a squeeze. It was always beautiful to you to hear Loki open up about Asgardian culture, as you had missed out on so much of it being raised on Midgard. A saddened look crosses your face as you wonder how different things would have been had you been raised here, like you were supposed to be. But alas, the world had different plans for you.

You shiver at the nighttime cold tickling your skin, and Loki chuckles softly. "Shall we head back to the palace, my love?" he asks, turning to face you and placing a hand on your reddened cheek. You nod and give him a smile. He knew you hated the cold, which was something that took the two of you a lot of time to get used to, with him being a frost giant and all.

He gives your nose a quick peck before taking your hand in his and leading you back to the palace. The walk is full of more stories of his ancestors and what they accomplished. He continues to open up about the great deal of expectation that resides over the royal family, and how if he ever had a child, he wouldn't ever expect more than the basics from them. You only nod knowingly, as Loki has a great deal of trauma that resides in his cold heart. 

His cold heart that you were beginning to thaw with your warmth.

Once inside and within the walls of his personal chambers, Loki starts a fire in the grand fireplace that accented his olive green wall. He then drags two of his comfiest chairs over, side by side, so the two of you can warm up. He beckons you over, your name like honey on his lips. The sound leaves you aching for him to speak your name once more as you take your coat off and sit in the chair beside him. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, merely enjoying the warmth and each other's presence. Once Loki feels your are adequately warmed, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box. He gives a sheepish look, as if already regretting his decision. He falters for a second before finally handing you the box.

"I bought you something while we were out today, one of the times you were distracted with the wonders of the city." You smile at him and shake your head.

"Loki, honey, you know you don't have to give me anything," you say, opening the box and giving a small gasp. It's a necklace, made of gold and donning the tree of life. Green emeralds intricately speckle the branches, acting as leaves. The tree resides in a circle of gold, and there are small words engraved in it. May the sun shine on you every day. It's absolutely astonishing.

Loki chuckles and stands to help place it around your neck. He lifts your hair out of the way gently, and fastens the clasp. "I know I don't have to give you gifts and treasures, but you deserve them." He lowers his voice to a whisper as his face nears the back of your neck. "You deserve the world," he whispers, planting gentle kisses to your skin. A shiver runs down your spine at his touch, igniting your core with need.

Loki makes his way back to his chair and you sit in your frustration for a moment. You want him, and now. He knew how kissing your neck made you feel, and he now sat with an extremely satisfied look on his face at the small (but rather mighty) reaction he garnered from you.

With a swift surge in confidence to wipe that smug look off of his face, you climb into his lap, straddling his waist. He tries to act the part of a noble and powerful god, yet he always fails when it comes to you. His eyes meet your smiling gaze and he reaches up to stroke your hair. "I am always yours," he whispers, leaning in to plant more kisses upon your neck.

You giggle quietly and your hands find his hair. "I know you are," you whisper back, before tugging his hair gently to reveal his neck. You lean down to get back at him by nibbling on his exposed skin. 

Loki gasps at your teeth on his sweet spot, but he quickly pulls you close again, the surprise making him all the more affectionate. "My dearest love," he whispers. "You certainly never cease to surprise me."

His length twitches beneath you, and you eye the god with a knowing smile. "Are you having a problem down there?" you tease.

Loki looks away for a moment as he tries to hide his slight embarrassment. "Well, you did catch me off guard," he says, attempting to adjust under the guise that you were uncomfortable. "I certainly did not expect that."

You grind down on his lap playfully and continue to grin at him. "Do you require a bit of... release?" you say, lust seeping into your voice. The raven haired man's cheeks grow warm and he bites his lip, attempting to not stare at your luscious bosoms inches from his face. His voice trembles as he speaks, trying to keep his desire for you under control. Something about your confidence towards the man that struck fear into the minds of strangers always managed to affect him.

"Yes, my love," he whispers, his eyes closing at the friction you were inflicting upon him. His hands find your waist as you plant more kisses upon his neck and collarbone.

"How badly do you want me, Loki?" you whisper against his ear. He shudders at the tickle of your breath, and grinds up into you in response, gripping you a little tighter.

"Oh, words could simply not describe my hunger for your love," he says, groaning into your neck. You hands find their way to the buttons on his shirt, and you begin to undress him. He draws in a slow breath watching you, his impatience growing. You take your time and smile at his impatience. He speaks again, but his voice is low and graveled. "Your every touch feels like lightning, my love." He leans his head back again, his body aching to have you screaming his name. 

The fire continues to crackle beside the two of you as you finally slide the shirt from his shoulders and plant more kisses to his now bare chest. Loki bites his lip before speaking again. "You are making me... dizzy, little one," he whispers through his teeth. He chances a look down into your eyes, and his head only spins more with desire.

You smile to yourself, proud that you can bring such a powerful god to nothing more than a muttering mess before you. Your hands find his belt buckle, and you undo his pants with ease. Loki tries to focus on your eyes, but he fails as his mind is foggy with lust. His heart pounds against his chest as you unsheathe his length. It twitches, the head red and swollen with need. You only look up at him with a mischievous glint to your eyes. 

"How badly do you want me?"

Loki nearly melts at the sight of you before his angry cock, innocent eyes looking up at him with nothing more than a want to be desired. He throws his head back again, trying to catch his breath and slow his mind. It was rare for the god to be at a loss for words, but his love for you is more than enough to render him speechless.

When he makes eye contact again, there is something much more sinister behind his irises. "Oh, words can not do justice to how badly I need you, princess. I simply, deeply, desire you." He raises his hand to caress your cheek as you plant a soft kiss upon the tip of his length. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and closes his eyes as you whisper against his tip.

"How badly?"

"You're tormenting me," he responds, twitching once more.

"Say it."

Loki inhales a sharp breath. Your smile turns devious at his physical reactions to your teasing. "I... I cannot think straight in these moments. Your sight, your smell, your desire - they all cloud my mind and my whole body aches for your touch," he says, now gripping the side of his chair. You can tell that if you don't give him what he wants soon, he will take it, and aggressively. You ponder that thought for a moment before responding.

"Beg for me," you whisper, still looking up at him with innocent eyes. The sound that escapes Loki is unhuman, and his hips twitch forward at your request. The hand that gripped the chair is now reaching for your hair, and he wraps up a fistful of it between his fingers in a desperate attempt to calm down. 

"You wish for me, the God of Mischief, to beg at your feet?" he asks, half teasing at your words, and half warning at your actions.

You shrug. "I mean, if you're too proud to beg..." you say, making like you'll move away if he doesn't. He gently yanks your hair in desperation, now looking at you with a mix of shock and desire in his eyes.

"My love, I would do anything for you in this moment... You... Your every touch, your every breath... I yearn for you. All of you," he whispers. "You need only ask and it shall be done. You shall have anything you desire."

You grin once more. "Then beg."

Loki is more than flustered by your request, and his voice trembles as he speaks. "My love, please," he whimpers. "I need you, and I need you now. Give yourself to me, and I promise you won't regret it."

Your heart swells at his response, and you take Loki's length in your hand, guiding it into your mouth slowly. Loki growls with pleasure above you, now gripping your hair with both hands. Your tongue slowly wriggles around his cock as your eyes flutter shut. He guides your head up and down, steadily and gently, his groans forming deep within his chest.

"By the norns," he whispers. No matter how many times you sought to pleasure him this way, he would never tire of the feeling. "You always... manage.. to take my breath away..." he stutters, struggling to keep his breathing in check. You moan onto his cock in agreement and the vibrations rip a new sound from Loki's mouth as his pace begins to quicken.

He becomes so enthralled by your technique that he begins to quiver - an ode to his release coming on quickly. His breath picks up, and you hear his whisper to the ceiling, "Stars, you are incredible."

His length begins to twitch inside your mouth, and instead of giving him what he wants, you release him with a little pop, sitting up.

Loki's expression tells you that he's not too happy about that, until it is replaced with surprise once you strip your bottom half and climb atop his lap once more. You line up the tip of his length with your dripping core. "Do you wish to take me as your own, Loki?" you whisper, rubbing his tip on your swollen clit. 

His eyes widen as your words register with him. Without another word, he grabs your hips and slams his entire length into you, unable to wait any longer. You gasp at the sudden change of dominance and his shear size, whilst he throws his head back in pure pleasure. You hold yourself steady as the god catches his breath. Once you grow used to his length, you raise yourself high enough that his tip rests just inside your sex. 

"My my," you say. "You are quite impatient, aren't you?" Loki scoffs, gripping your hips and contemplating doing it again. Before he can, you slide back down his length slowly, and repeat this process, creating a slow rhythm that causes your face to contort in pleasure. 

Loki's mind swims with thoughts, unable to form words to explain how he felt in this moment of... ecstasy. His mind was racing, and all logic dissipated, leaving him with an overwhelming and almost primal desire to make you scream his name. He adjusts his seated position slightly, wanting to go deeper, deeper, until you took all of what he had to offer. You moan in time with him and another thought crosses your mind.

You place your hand upon his throat, looking into his widening blue eyes. "Do you wish to be in control, Loki? Or are you enjoying my fight for dominance...?"

"I wish to be... in control... yet this... this moment..." his pace begins to quicken and he closes his eyes, focusing on all his nerve endings being stimulated. "I love it. I love how you push me beyond my limits." His voice is filled with pure desire, and he opens his eyes once more to look into yours. "You shall have your way with me."

You grin, his words sparking a new sense of dominance through your blood. Your hand begins to restrict his airway slowly and gently, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure. Your struggle to keep your own eyes open as you watch the sight, the pleasure from the friction building in your core. "You wish to be controlled, my love?" you ask, your grinding becoming more desperate.

Loki's hands begin to roam your body in distress, searching for something to grip, something to bring him back to reality, and he begins to caress your breasts. "Y-Yes, sweetling," he stutters, his mind faltering on the pure ecstasy of it all.

You find the pleasure almost overwhelming as you remove your hands from Loki's throat to his shoulders, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate kiss, all the while continuing to rock your hips back and forth. Your teeth find Loki's bottom lip and bite down harshly, wanting to hear Loki whimper for you. He then groans at the gesture, pulling away for a gasp of air and gripping your thighs. His head falls back as the sharp pain brings more pleasure to his body. 

You take advantage of this moment, moving to his neck and biting down hard, enough to draw blood. He gasps once more at the inflicted pain, panting heavily as his back arches his body further into yours. Your thrusts become more and more aggressive, hoping to bring Loki to his climax at the same time as yours. You straighten your back, grabbing Loki's hands and placing them upon your breasts as you bounce up and down on his cock. "D-Do you like the way this feels, baby? Do you wish to find release inside me?" you ask, staring into his eyes with such deviance, Loki might just cum from the look alone. He manages a nod, too busy grunting and moaning at the lasciviousness of the entire situation to attempt any semblance of words.

Your ecstasy begins to take over, forcing your hands to have a mind of their own. They meet Loki's chest, digging into him with such vigor that you draw blood. This only furthers the man's feeling of euphoria as he reaches his climax in time with you.

Your thrusts become sloppy as Loki grips your hips once more, pounding up into you with haste as he brings you to your climax. Your cunt contracts and throbs on Loki's cock, bringing him to climax shortly after and filling you up with his seed. The two of you ride out your high together, panting each other's names and whispering sweet words of encouragement. The two of you lull for a long while, trying to catch your breath and regain some level of consciousness.

Loki looks up at you with such love and satisfaction that your aftershock almost becomes another climax. He smiles, still somewhat panting from the experience. "That... is certainly how we have to do that more often," he muses, praising you for your good work. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the situation, now that the feeling of dominance has passed. He chuckles at how quick your attitude changes, and cups your cheeks in his hands.

"Leave it to the love of my life to pull out a side of me I'd never experienced before," he says, chuckling as he replays the events in his mind. He kisses you gently, for he knows if he did so more aggressively, you would be more than happy to go for round two. Your eyes seem almost glossed over as you begin to fall back into your submission for the aftermath.

Loki rubs circles into your back as you begin to lull from the pleasure. He lifts you up, his length never leaving you, and carries you to the bath. He would be more than happy to take care of his baby after a session like that.

[plzfeedmebread]

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 2

word count: 4662

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: Non-con, slight torture mentioned, smut, blow job, mouth fucking, threats of violence, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, NSFW, degradation, dark themes, hurt no comfort Author's Notes: Aye yo wtf, this was suppose to be a one-shot! XD Some have asked for a continuation, so I have provided! Wanted to get this out on Valentines Day, though that has since passed here. Would have been out sooner but, Cyclone Gabrielle had other plans! Anyway please enjoy. Might make a part 3 for something softer. Apologies for any grammatical errors!

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*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*

Pain.

That is the first thing that you register; a dull throb to the back of your head. You grown at the feeling. Slowly do your eyes flutter open, the sting of light assaults you.

When finally do you adjust to the brightness, you take stock of your surroundings.

White.

The walls. The ceiling. The floor. Where the fuck are you?

You realise you are on the floor. You move to sit up, but you find your hands are bound tight behind you. So it with great effort you that manage to push yourself up into a sitting position, back pressed against the wall behind you.

You gaze around the room. In the centre there is a thick metal table. No chairs. To your left, a bed that would be far too small for your frame. Clearly you are in a human facility. But you do not recognise this interior to be that of Hell’s Gate.

Shit.

Despite the painful throb, you attempt to recount your steps up until this point.

---

Your siblings; Eywa bless them all, but by the Great Mother did they infuriate you. For some unfathomable reason, the little entourage, sans Neteyam, thought to disobey the rules and explore the old battle site. There they happened upon a group of Avatars, decked out in full gear, carrying ARs.

Lo’ak calls it in. Father instructed him to retreat.

You arrived at eclipse, alongside your parents and Neteyam, leaving him with the ikran. You find your siblings captured and in the clutches of these Avatars. There would be no way to rescue them without bloodshed.

Your mother lets loose the first arrow, a clean headshot, and all hell breaks loose in a hail of gunfire. In the scuffle you manage to find Kiri and Spider, leading them away as fast as you can.

But an explosion goes off behind all of you, and though you and Kiri keep balance, you see Spider fall. The two of you yell out to him. Without so much as a second thought, you dove. You clutched his body to yours, wrapping yourself around him as the two of you fell, lessening the impact it would have on him, hoping you have protected his mask.

You hit your head on several tree branches on the way down. With a painful thud you land on the ground. There is a loud ringing in your ear. You think you can hear Spider’s muffled voice yelling your name, screaming perhaps. You can’t concentrate. There is only pain. There is only the ringing.

You faintly register the feeling of being lifted. There is a light, blinding in your eyes, coming from the skies. Then darkness. Nothingness.

Then, you woke up here.

---

It stands to reason then, that you were captured by those Avatars. Fuck.

But where was Spider?!

Panicked, you hoist yourself onto wobbly legs, looking around the room you search, but he is not here. You pull on the bindings in frustration, but it is of little use; they are wound tight.

You turn around and are met with your own reflection. You notice your head’s been wrapped in some gauze; you must’ve hit your head pretty hard. You look at the bindings on your wrist, orange, ones you haven’t seen before. A nice new gift from the Sky People.

Suddenly your ears pick up a soft swoosh of a sound, and the door behind you opens.

Too afraid to turn around you stare at the doorway through the reflection.

One of the Avatar men stalks in, bending as he does to get through the doorway.

By Eywa’s grace, he is tall. Taller than your father, your surmise. Bigger too. Probably not a fight you would win easily, if it all. Especially with your injured head and bound wrists.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” He says as he approaches you. You turn then, slowly, to face the man. You decide to play nice, for now at least. No need to get hurt even more. Lure the enemy in, strike when they least expect.

You look up to meet his gaze head on, and freeze.

---

That face.

That damned face.

You’re sure you know that damnable face.

But it is not possible. The man you know of, are thinking of, is most assuredly dead. For real dead. You’ve seen his remains, trapped in that machine in the old battle site. You dared not to touch it; afraid it would have disturbed his spirit somehow.

Oh Eywa, his spirit…

How long has it been since you last saw him? Three years? Something close to that you think. You would never forget that evening, that desperate evening, when you approached him. Threw yourself at him. And he caved. Oh sweet Eywa, he had caved.

You knew what you did was wrong. Guilt had eaten away at you in the days that followed. You knew exactly who he was. You knew of his crimes. Yet you did it anyway. Shameful. Disgusting. Monster-fucker, you bitterly thought.

The two of you never really broached the topic of his past. He had given you his name, and it was enough. You told him who you were, and it was enough.

You hadn’t known how to explain the marks that marred your body. You claimed to have fallen off attempting a trick mid-flight. A weak excuse. You can see it in the eyes of your parents that they do not believe you. Your siblings too. But they instead teased you, convinced are they that you must have been with someone.

You decided then, that if you should see him again, you must apologise, it was a mistake, shall never happen again, and to never speak to one another going forward.

It takes two weeks then, for a re-emergence of a shared dream.

You had been psyching yourself up for the encounter.

Except the moment your eyes meet, there is such an unbelievable swell in your chest, an almost immediate heat in your loins. You are beyond smitten.

You let yourself be lost in the feeling.

Days turn to weeks. Weeks to months. And every few days, you found yourself back in his company. Back in his arms. Sometimes, he in yours. And you love it. Guilt be damned you love the attention. The two of you figure that your body must reflect whatever happens to your soul in this Space.

He, tries, to be more mindful of the marks he leaves; but your people already wear next to nothing as it is, so it is a bit of a challenge. You don’t mind though, not anymore. Not after this long. It fills you with confidence, to know you are wanted so deeply, so readily, always.

You find you are able to walk pass those boys who had rejected you with a huff, a flick of the hair. Show them that they are unneeded, and that you have found someone else.

But such a time is not to last. Your family began to pester you; your parents especially. Father is Clan Leader; this you cannot forget. So for his eldest, his daughter, to have some sort of secret lover, he is not exactly keen on. They beg and plead, asking for you to tell them who it is. If this boy, ‘Ha! Boy…’, has accepted you, then they can arrange for him to be your future mate, recognise your future relationship in the clan. Make it official as it were.

You were relucted, obviously. How can you explain to them that you were having, relations, with what is undoubtedly their worst enemy, but also that it wasn’t happening in the real world?

Just when you were slowly coming around to the idea of confessing…it stopped.

Just like that.

No warning. Just complete, nothingness.

When a week had gone by with no Quaritch, you thought nothing of it.

But weeks turn to months. One month becomes two. Two becomes four.

And on the eve of the sixth month, you break. You break down, alone under the Spirit Tree. You connected to Eywa, sobbing, begging, pleading, questioning. ‘Why? Why now?’ If it was so wholly wrong, why put you two together?

You are met with silence.

Months then, turned to years. You never do tell your parents, or your siblings. Your apparent mood change at the seventh months leads them to believe things didn’t work out. It had been months since they saw you with marks in suspicious places. You are grateful they never bring it up though; but you can tell in they walk on egg shells around you that they know.

This goes on for about another few months before all returns to normal.

You miss him, of course. He had been your first love you think. Accepting your body as those boys did not. A freak to them you were. Big breasted and wide hipped. But to him—

“Ahh, you’re all freaks to me darlin’. ‘Sides, if you were human, with a body like that? Pssh, men wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off ye. Lord knows I can’t,” he had winked at you when he said that. That’s when you knew there was no way you could possibly stay away from this man.

But Eywa had other plans it seemed.

“You still with me darlin’?” Your reminiscing is brought to a hastened end by the man before you. He stands just before you, waving a hand in front of your face.

Shit. How long were you staring off into nothing remembering things?

You blink rapidly, then cast your eyes downward. You are far too overwhelmed to look this man in the eye.

“What do you want, Demon?” The last part you spit with venom. You don’t know who this is, but you hate him. Hate that he looks so damn close to your human.

“Ah, so you do speak English…” He takes a step back, crosses his arms and regards you with keen interested. “That was some nasty fall back there. Had the science pukes patch ya up real nice.” You don’t say anything in response.

“Spider tells me you were protecting him. Awfully nice of ya, considering he’s human. Stands to reason then, that I shall return that kindness. Be nice and all that. All you gotta do, is tell me what I wanna know.” He roughly grabs your face in one hand, forcing you to look up at him.

“Where is Jake Sully?”

“As if I would betray my family so easily, Demon! You will get nothing from me!” You all but yell angrily at him. Baring your teeth as threateningly as you can muster.

“Now-now sweetheart, there’s no need to play hard to get. We can do this the easy way. Or the hard way. Your choice. As I said, I’ll be nice. Once. Then I won’t.”

Fear.

Fear bursts through you. You look up at this man, this Demon, this monster and plead with your eyes.

“Please…don’t hurt me…Do not ask this of me…”

Loyalty, even in the face of danger. He admires that. But the soft approach, he’ll save for Spider. His not-son. For you though, savage daughter of that fucking traitor Jake Sully, he’s decided on a not so nice approach.

---

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time has all but blurred together. You have not seen the outside in so long. Have not felt the sun upon your skin. It is torture. But nothing, truly nothing, compares to that awful machine.

It pulls at your mind, the digging, cutting, searching. The feeling of a thousand metal spiders clawing into your flesh. Yet you do not yield. You think only of the forest. Of tall trees and swinging vines. Of running through the under brush at night when the world is aglow. You force your mind to think of Hells Gate. Of the scientists. Of the many humans you see mulling around.

Each time your screams fall on deaf ears, begging for the pain to stop. Each time you are brought to tears. Only when you start bleeding from your nose are you let free, returned to that awful white room. They don’t bother cuffing you anymore. You simply lay on the floor weeping to yourself till you fall unconscious.

You’re not sure how long you can keep it up. Sooner or later, you will inevitably think of the Hallelujah Mountains, of High Camp.

And where was Spider? Oh Eywa you hope he’s okay. If they put him in that same machine, you vow you would kill them all. Every. Last. Human. Avatar. Whatever. Anything breathing in this forsaken place was dead fucking meat.

Again you weep for him. You hope was safe and not scared and alone. You prayed to Eywa that they treated him with a modicum of decency, at least for being human. You move yourself and the oxygen mask they gave you into the soft bed, small as it was, a better comfort than the floor. You cry yourself to sleep.

---

It’s frustrating, Quaritch thinks. It’s been about a week, and still they have come up short. Even with Spider riding along, no progress has been made. It was difficult to even get him to agree to come a long. He had insisted on seeing you, outright refusing to cooperate otherwise. It was only when Quaritch had not to subtly threatened to return him to the science pukes that he relented. Still he demanded to at least know you were safe.

It took little effort to lie to the boy. You were technically safe, so long as they didn’t keep you in that machine longer than you could handle. You had a place to rest. Water and food were given to you. A mask too. By all accounts you were still living and breathing. Close enough to safe.

But you. Stubborn, obstinate, infuriating you. They had yet to break you. Their fancy expensive machine failing them at every turn. Quaritch stares at you on the monitors before him. He can hear you weep. Another failed round. He’s clutching his mug tightly. The General will be on his ass if he doesn’t produce results soon. He’s not exactly her biggest fan either. She’s got an arrogance about her that rubs him the wrong way.

It’s your fault, he thinks, as he stares you. Your fault, that progress has come to a standstill. It pisses him off. If you at least gave them something, anything, this would be a whole lot easier. He slams his mug down, anger bristling his nerves, ire ever growing.

“Turn off the monitors. Me and that hostile are gonna have ourselves, a little chat.”

“Sir…?”

“JUST. DO IT.” The human beside him jumps at his tone, hastily turning off the feed as commanded.

“Now don’t go turning that back on till I return. Trust me, I’ll know.” He fixes the man with a stern look before storming off to your holding cell.

---

You awake with a start at the sound of the door opening. You see the Demon step in, then touch the something beside the door. It makes a noise, and you are more than certain he’s locked it. Your stomach drops.

Quaritch looks up at the cameras, making sure there is no red light to indicate it being on. Satisfied, he turns to you once more.

“You know sweetheart. I gotta give it to ya, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.” He says, taking slow leisurely steps towards you. You bring your knees to your chest, pushing yourself as far back as you can until your met with the cold wall.

“But this can all go away. No more machine. I can get you outta here. All you gotta do is give me what I want.”

“I will give you nothing! Demon!” You hiss at him, but it is for show. You are scared, trapped with this man in a place you can’t escape. Too weak to fight properly. Without thinking, you spit at him, landing your saliva on his chest. Oh, he doesn’t like that.

“One of these days sweetheart, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in a world of trouble.” A frown adorns his face as he says this, looking at the offending wet patch before drawing his eyes back to meet yours.

“Starting today.” In a flash he’s on you, roughly grabbing your queue at the base. You yelp in both surprise and pain, hands automatically clawing at his wrists. He pulls you off the wall to the edge of the bed. He stands before you. He yanks your head back, pulling your face upward.

“You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Let’s put that mouth of yours to good use then, shall we?” The grips your queue tighter, the searing pain lights your nerves once more and you hiss at the feeling. Tears threatening at the edge of your eyes.

You catch movement on the edge of your gaze. With horror you realise what he is doing. He’s unbuckling his pants.

‘Oh no no no, please, Great Mother NO! Not this! Anything but this!’ Your prayer is futile as you watch him pull out his half-hardened cock.

Quaritch didn’t think he’d find your fear so arousing. But that pleading look you give him every time he sees you, he can’t help the bolt of electricity that shoots through him. Even now he can see the fear in your eyes, he can see you know what’s about to happen, and he reveals in the power he has over you. Doesn’t help that you’ve been walking around in that get-up of yours.

He noticed you, that first time he walked into this cell. You definitely were a half-breed, with those five fingers and toes. Even more so did he notice the swell of your breasts, the expansion of your hips. From the images he’s seen on the data pads, you are clearly not like the rest of your kin. Your portions are almost too human.  He’s not sure if it’s this new body, or the memories of the man he’s emulating, but God damn he can’t help himself.

The frustration of it all, topped off with your stubbornness to cooperate, stagnating their operation too boot, has all been building up. He’s just about had enough. This is all your fault. Seems to reason that you should be the one to fix it, he figures.

Before you can even begin to beg, he pulls out a knife, bringing the sharp blade to where he has your queue in his hand.

“Don’t get any funny ideas darling. One wrong move, and it’s bye-bye Eywa. Understood?” Tears silently fall from your eyes; you nod when you feel him loosen his grip ever so lightly. Seeing those tears sends a pleasurable throb to the tip of his dick.

“Good girl.” He lets your head fall forward properly facing him, he shuffles closer, his legs hitting the side of the bed.

“Now, do you need to be told what to do, or do you already know?”

Of course you know. You spent an almost immeasurable amount of time with your beloved human. He showed you things you never dreamed of, touched you in ways your imagination could never suffice. But now those memories were to be tainted, forever marred by the actions of this Demon. Your hesitation is noted, and met with displeasure.

“I ain’t got all day sweetheart.”

With renewed tears you sit on your knees, and take him in one hand.

---

Slowly you pump, up and down, from base to tip. It doesn’t take long for him to harden. The sight of your tears dripping onto your exposed chest spurring him on.

He’s massive, you realise. You’re sure Na’vi men aren’t meant to be this well-endowed. You’re almost certain actually, from the stories you shared with you by your friends.

He is thick too; your fingers barely touch when encircled around him. He hums with pleasure, tightening his grip on your queue ever so slightly.

You squeeze tighter, pumping his cock with more force. You hear him suck in a breath.

He brings the knife away from your queue to your mouth.

“Open.” He commands, and you obey. “Wider.” He sticks the knife inside carefully, pressing the flat side of the blade onto your tongue. The cold metal tastes awful, making your mouth water. He uses his thumb to pull one side of your mouth away, examining.

The sight alone causes a shudder through his core. You peering up at him, tears in your eyes, tongue flat, mouth pulled open, drool falling freely. Oh yes, he could get used to this.

He removes the knife from your mouth, back to your queue.

“Use that pretty little mouth of yours darling.”

Your lips tremble at the thought of that massive thing in your mouth. But what choice do you have really? Your lifeline is in his hand; quite literally in fact.

He moves your head closer, loosening his grip to give you some leeway. “Watch those teeth darlin’” he warns as you lean closer still.

Slowly you open your mouth, and give his tip an experimental lick. You hear the Demon suck in a breath through his teeth when he does this. You lick his tip again, then take the hold head into your mouth.

The Demon exhales audibly.

You swirl your tongue around the tip, opening your mouth slightly to ease the motion, all the while pumping his cock with your hand to spread your saliva.

“Hnnn—fuck. Keep going darlin’…” The Demon praises you. Once you deem him sufficiently lubricated, you stick out your tongue and proceed to take more of his cock into your mouth. You stop half way before pulling back. You bring your head back down halfway, meeting your hand that pumps him from base to midway.

You set a slow place, squeezing him as hard as you can with your hand. You can hear his laboured breath as you suck his cock with practiced movements.

“You’ve done this before have you? Fucking whore…Bet you got men just lined up back home—!!!” His words come to abrupt halt, followed by a gasp, when you remove your hand from his cock and plunge the whole length into your mouth. He wasn’t expecting that.

You feel the tip of his dick stroke pass the base of your tongue and tease the inside of your neck. Though you’ve ever sucked any other cock other than your beloved, back when you were still relative to his size, he was sure to show you how to take his cock without chocking. Seems those lessons shall serve you well.

You pull back, tracing the vein on the side of his dick with your tongue. You bring his tip to your lips and swirl your tongue around it hastily, before sucking the whole length back down your throat.

“Ffffuuuuuck—” the Demon all but moans loudly, hips sway slightly.

He throws the knife to the floor suddenly, wraps your queue around one wrist, the grabs both sides of your head in his hands.

He starts fucking you like that, holding your head still and he pumps into your throat with reckless abandon. He unashamedly moans, feeling the soft smooth slick of your tongue graze his dick, while his tip meets the inner walls of your throat.

You don’t expect him to go so fast, the intrusion at such a speed shocks you, and you gag unintentionally. This doesn’t deter him at all though, seems to spur him on further. Faster he fucks you, powerful muscles clenched tight as he drives his hard cock down your bruising throat. Each time he can see the imprint of his dick push on your throat and it sends a jolt of pleasure through him.

You look up then, glistening eyes brimming with tears, nose running slightly. Your hands hold onto his wrists for balance. His face is contorted into one of inexplicable pleasure. Eyes half lidded, glazed over, mouth agape, he moans loudly without shame. He’s so close. He can feel it. He’s teetering on that precipice of release. He just needs a little bit more.

One hand leaves your head. He reaches to your shoulder to grab the lines of fabric there. With one powerful pull the threads break, beads and other small trinkets go flying about the room.

You make some kind of shocked noise around his cock; the vibrations send pleasurable waves all throughout.

“Aaaaahhh—fuck yes baby that’s it! Let me see you play with those pretty tits of yours! Come on now!” He yells as he brings his hand back to your head, holding you still once more, resuming his brutal pace.

Timidly you bring your hands to your now openly exposed breasts. You cup yourself in each hand, squeezing gently, you start to massage yourself in lazy circles. You moan around his cock without thinking, the feeling of playing yourself sending a small jolt of pleasure to your pussy.

“Come on baby, come on yes that’s it, you’re such a good girl for me, my fucking little savage whore! Just a little more!”

You move to pinch your nipples as you press your tits together, and you moan a muffled scream at the pleasure lighting your nerves.

That does it for him. With one final powerful thrust into your throat, he cums. Hard. You feel the thick streams of his seed coat the inner walls of your throat. He pulls back and thrusts back in a few more times, filling your mouth with his hot sticky cum.

He holds your head to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his groin.

“Swallow it baby…Don’t waste a single drop now.” You swallow, drinking deep. You give his cock a couple hard sucks, making sure you drink every last drop. Slowly you pull your head back, his dick comes out with a pop. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue out of habit. Quaritch would always inspect your mouth like this, make sure you were a good girl and didn’t waste his gift to you.

The Demon smirks down at you, his breathing laboured. He sees your tail flick behind you, only then does he notice his also swaying behind him with reckless abandon. He releases your queue then. You almost weep at the relief that floods you. Without a word he puts his semi-soften cock back in his pants, collects his knife and secures it back in place. He gives himself a once over before turning to face you once more.

You’re still sitting on your knees. There’s a thick blush from your tits, up your neck, and splayed beautifully across your cheeks. You’re looking up at him with glistening eyes, apprehension on your face, clearly unsure of what is so happen now.

He clears his throat.

“I suggest, you think ‘bout cooperating. Next time, I might not be so nice.” He leaves without another word. You’re almost shocked by the hastened retreat. When the door shuts behind him, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

You immediately bring your braid to you front and hold it tight to your chest. You’re crying is renewed tenfold. To lose one’s queue is a fate worse than death. You’ve heard the horror stories. The pain, the fire, the seizures. It is an unsightly thing. And survival is not guaranteed. Even then, what sort of life could you really have, without your connection? Without being about to make tsaheylu? You continue to cry as you rock back on forth, tail wrapping around you in distress.

You swallow your excess saliva, still tasting that Demon’s cum on your tongue.

Without him here, looming over you with the threat of danger, you come to realise an awful thing.

He tastes just like Quaritch.

You all but scream in frustration as you cry even harder.

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx

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[wndaswife]

Hi if your requests are open :) I saw you write for Gerri Fields and THANK YOU BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO FICS OF HER(Favourite Lizzie character)

But I was wondering if I could request a fic! So basically R and Gerri are together but it’s just fluff and banter! Gerri Invites Reader over to the party her parents are throwing and Gerri is just trying to sneak away with R until Gerri’s family keep calling them back?

If you can’t do this request it’s no problem thank you for taking the time to read it anyways :) I love your fics and I hope you have an amazing Day/Night

baby steps | gerri fields & fem!reader

It’s the first official night you’re spending together as girlfriends, but neither you nor Gerri can find enough peace to get each other alone.

Word count: 2845

Tags: fluff, humour, suggestive language, cute little gays trying doing their cute little gay things, ft. gerri’s chaotic family

A/N: yeah i totally get that!! i really love gerri too so im really glad you enjoy reading my fics ab her as much as i love writing them <3 thanks for requesting this!!

“Did you bring your laptop?” 

You dug through your bag and carefully pulled your laptop out before setting it down on Gerri’s bed.

“The charger?” she asked.

You answered, “Yeah.”

Tonight was the first night you were spending with Gerri now that you were dating. You’d been best friends with each other since the first year of high school and there’d been likely hundreds of sleepovers before, but there was a bit of an unspoken excitement between the two of you tonight.

Over the past three weeks, you’d been getting to know the roommate you’d be moving in with in September, and last week you went to one of her parties a city away with Gerri. 

For your future roommate, it was a farewell party for her thrown a bit earlier in the summer because one of her best friends was going to be travelling to Armenia with not enough time to have a big party like they wanted once they came back — so they celebrated in July.

For you and Gerri, it was a chance to get out of the neighbourhood you’ve always known around the people you’ve always known, and the both of you were rather excited to get out for a while because you’d be staying there overnight due to how long the drive was, and neither of you, including your roommate, wanted you travelling that far so late into the night.

Maybe it was just how overwhelming the night was or how different things were there, but you ended up leaving the party to take a walk around the neighbourhood with Gerri. You walked around together talking about things you liked about home and all the memories you shared together from years ago — old crushes, old friends, each other.

Wrapped up in the warm feeling of nostalgia and sharing in each other’s sole company, it was Gerri who kissed you first, who took your hand and cupped your cheek and pulled you close. But it was you who then had her back against a nearby tree, hugging her around the waist and running your hands through her hair, taking your best friend as yours for the first time.

It didn’t seem like things were all too different now that you were together. It felt like that was a testament to how close the two of you have always been, and how long-developed the love for each other had been growing until one night it just had to give.

So although neither of you had outright said it, tonight was a bit of a milestone. 

Both of you were determined to be able to spend time alone together, to delve into the depths of your relationship that’d been waiting patiently for your exploration — waiting for years. Now you didn’t have to look at each other and feel the soft stirring deep within your chests at the sight of one another and attribute all of it to simply being close friends.

Now, you could feel what you’d always felt for one another and do it all as girlfriends.

“Toothbrush?”

You searched through the smaller bag that you put aside for your toiletries. 

“No, I forgot it,” you replied with a wince. “Shit.”

Gerri waved her hand dismissively. “Okay,” she said. “It’s fine, we have an extra and you can use the toothpaste I have.” 

“Orrr,” you drawled as you crept up to your girlfriend while she dug through the linen closet in the hallway for an extra toothbrush, “I could just use yours.”

She laughed and pushed you off of her with her hand on your shoulder when you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “That’s disgusting,” she said. 

“I read in an article that the healthiest relationships share stuff, you know — shampoo, clothes, toothbrushes.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked and raised an eyebrow, closing the linen closet with a new toothbrush in her hand as you followed her back into her bedroom. “Where’d you read that? Bullshit-dot-org?”

You sat down on her bed with a dramatic huff and rubbed your palms against her soft sheets. 

“You’re not being very romantic right now,” you teased and watched as she set the toothbrush down on your bag. 

The corner of Gerri’s mouth twitched upwards and she repressed a tiny smirk as she walked over to you so you were looking up at her. “Not being romantic enough?” she asked. She slid her knee between your legs and with a hand on your shoulder, carefully pushed you back so she could lean over you. 

Leaning down further while your back was now flat on her bed, Gerri hooked her fingers around the collar of your shirt and tugged down so she could kiss your exposed collarbone, making you shudder. 

She was so gentle. 

Until last week, you’ve never known Gerri like this before, but you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about how gentle her hands would be on your body or how her soft lips would feel like on yours. 

She was more adventurous than you imagined, often taking the initiative to slip herself on top of you and bury you in intimate, warm kisses. It always made you rather flustered because prior to the first time you were underneath her, you had no idea how much passion had been resting within her. 

You haven’t had sex together yet, but just thinking about it made you lightheaded. 

“What do you know about romance?” she taunted, and you could see from the corner of your eyes how she looked up at you from the crook of your neck with a grin. 

You stuttered and cleared your throat before finally being able to say, “I know… a little.”

“Tell me,” Gerri said, her fingers inching up your hip underneath your shirt, still preoccupied with pressing soft ghosting kisses up your neck. 

Your brain completely short circuited and you pathetically answered, “I can send you the article.”

Gerri’s laugh escaped her in a sharp exhale of breath against your neck and she raised her head to laugh. “You fucking idiot,” she said and lifted her hand that was under your shirt to slap your side. 

The weight she had on your chest made it hard for you to laugh and you had to turn onto your side and let out a wheeze-like laugh. 

A knock came at the bedroom door and Gerri straightened while you struggled between slowly-subsiding giggles to move onto your elbows. 

Gerri’s mom opened the door and peeked her head inside. “Are you both ready?” she asked. 

“Yep!” you answered and sat up properly. “And I hope you don’t mind, but I forgot my toothbrush and Gerri gave me one of the extra ones in the linen closet.”

“That’s fine, honey,” Kate replied with a friendly smile. She then entered her daughter’s bedroom and began tinkering around with the things on Gerri’s desk idly while she spoke.

“Should I be worried about the two of you?” she asked and side-eyed the both of you inconspicuously. 

Your girlfriend gave you an unknowing look before asking, “What?”

“I mean the two of you…” Kate pressed then leaned back against the desk. She pressed the sides of her index fingers together. “College students. Dating. Sleeping in the same room.”

Gerri’s face immediately turned red and she quickly walked over to her mom and pulled her from the desk before urging her out of the room. 

“Ger, I’m a very accepting woman and I love that you’re dating Y/N, but–”

She was cut off when she was pushed out of the bedroom. 

“Keep the door open!” Kate tried to squeeze in before Gerri shut the door in her face and promptly locked it. 

Over the next hour, guests began filling the house to celebrate Danny’s birthday while you and Gerri stayed up in her bedroom snacking on liquorice and caramel M&Ms.

When parties happened at Gerri’s for Kate, the crowd was mostly filled with laidback wine moms, but when parties were filled with mostly Danny’s coworkers and friends, parties were lively and a bit loud and full of overly-excited drunks — himself included.

But once the scent of barbecue from the backyard started travelling up to Gerri’s room, neither of you could hold back waiting until you could sneak out and get some food without being noticed.

Maybe you should’ve gone out earlier when there weren’t as many people, but you both easily lost track of time when Gerri started playing you a bunch of new songs she was trying to learn on her guitar; after each song, at least one of you would keep saying that you had time for her to play just one more before you went downstairs to get food.

As if trekking through dangerous terrain, Gerri went downstairs first while you followed behind slowly. She mapped out the backyard and spotted the table set up with food. 

In the driveway, a few cars shut their doors and Gerri pulled you out to the back with her so you could both quickly fill your plates before the next wave of guests filed into the backyard. 

Wordlessly, she gave you a plate and a fork and an empty cup so you could make quick work of bringing the food and drinks up to her bedroom. 

Chatter went on in the background and Gerri listened in on the conversation to keep herself aware of whether she or you were yet detected.

Once you finished filling your plates, Gerri put her hand on your upper back and urged you forward. She whispered in your ear beyond clenched teeth, “Hurry, hurry.”

“Oh! Ladies!” Kate called out to both of you and hurried over to grab Gerri’s hand.

“Mom…” she hissed quietly, trying to protest without making too much of a fuss lest she bring about more attention to the both of you. 

Though you weren’t pulled back with her, you didn’t want to leave Gerri outside alone so you stuck around too and followed behind your girlfriend while she was pulled back into the depths of the precarious backyard.

Ignoring her daughter’s complaints, Kate turned around and introduced her to the guests who just stepped into the backyard with dishes of food in their hands.

“Have you met my daughter Gerri?” she asked them and placed a hand on her back, urging her forward subtly. 

“Hi,” Gerri greeted, and you could hear her response grit out of her as if her throat had suddenly become the texture of a cheese grater. 

She chatted a little with Kate and Danny’s mutual friends, and from the corner of your eye you could see Danny approaching. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked over to Gerri, who also noticed her father approaching before quickly becoming impatient, evident in the way she began running her fingernail along the side of her paper plate anxiously.

“Oh, heavens,” Kate said and reached back to then wrap an arm around you and pull you forward. “We’re completely ignoring Y/N.”

A brief wordless exchange of desperation was shared between you and Gerri’s eyes when she caught sight of you being pulled in front of her. 

Kate rubbed her hand against your upper arm and introduced you: “This is Y/N — Gerri’s girlfriend.”

“Mom!” whined Gerri as she tugged at her mom’s sleeve to keep her quiet. Her face looked flushed and she avoided eye contact with you, and it seemed to you that she felt flustered and embarrassed and you thought it was really cute. 

You subtly bumped your knuckle against her hand and she smiled at you shyly.

“What?” Kate asked cluelessly, looking between the both of you. “Gerri, honey, we all support you here. Don’t be shy. It’s not nice to exclude your girlfriend from things.” 

“We’re so proud of the two of them,” Danny said and wrapped his arms around both you and Gerri, pulling the both of you into a side hug. “We always worried some heartbreaker would come in and swoop our sweet girl away from us, but we struck gold by having Y/N join our family. We’ve always considered her as one of our own.”

His words nearly nestled within you with great sentiment and warmth and you parted your lips to thank him graciously before he added, “You know, my best friend in high school was gay.”

Gerri groaned and pushed her dad away before taking your wrist and dragging you back inside, hot steam practically fuming out of her ears.

Danny shook his fists in the air happily. “I love the gays!” he then exclaimed to which several of his friends also cheered.

Daytime drinking was no joke.

When you finally got back into the house together and were passing the living room, three of Gerri’s much-younger cousins that just started playing Mario Kart on the Switch turned around and cheered together with bright smiles, “Hi, Gerri’s girlfriend!”

“Her name is Y/N,” Kate called across the kitchen as she was bringing in an empty pitcher of water to refill.

Gerri’s head snapped back around to scowl at her mother who she just couldn’t seem to get away from.

“Hi, Y/N!” her cousins corrected, still waving cheerfully.

You smiled back and waved, “Hello, Gerri’s cousins.”

They found that a little funny for whatever reason and their giggles made you laugh.

“Why can’t you guys just mind your own business and play your stupid game?” Gerri angrily snapped at them and pulled you upstairs by the wrist.

Peering over your girlfriend’s shoulder as she led you back upstairs, you exchanged one more wave with her cousins who were still smiling at you from the living room.

When the two of you finally got back to her bedroom, Gerri locked her door and told you that neither of you were to open it if someone knocked, and if needed she’d talk to whoever was outside only through the closed door. 

After that rule was sternly set, the both of you changed into more comfortable clothes as you weren’t planning on going back out any further than the kitchen for the rest of the night.

While sitting at her desk together eating with a show playing on her laptop, you mixed a bite of a caramel M&M with a bite of steak to prove to her that chocolate and meat did indeed mix together well.

You opened your mouth to show her but didn’t even get half a second into it before her hand landed right on your face and she pushed you back.

“You’re so gross,” she laughed and handed you her water bottle, still convinced that it tasted horrendous together. But you pushed forward after you swallowed and nuzzled your nose against her cheek. 

Feeling suddenly sentimental in the cool air of her bedroom doing nothing but spending time together like you always had as friends and now as girlfriends, you hugged her tight and spoke against her cheek, “You’re my best friend, Gerri.”

She set her water bottle down and turned her head so she could look at you. “You’re mine too,” she said and smiled happily.

Sometimes when it came suddenly without either of you really thinking about it, kissing each other often made you both feel a bit stunned afterwards for just a second or two like how it felt just then when she kissed you.

It was something to get used to — the fact that you could kiss each other now.

A part of you hoped neither of you would ever get used to it though, because you loved seeing Gerri look away from you afterwards while her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, and how much wider her smile got when you kissed her again while she was still feeling a bit shy.

When the two of you got tired, you laid in bed together with Gerri’s arms wrapped around your body hugging you securely from behind, her chin resting atop your head. She played with your fingers idly while you continued to watch your show together on her laptop.

Eventually, you could tell from the sound of her breathing that she was beginning to fall asleep and although she told you she could stay up for a little longer, you convinced her to sleep when you turned around and laid her head against your chest. She told you that she’d wake up later so you didn’t have to end the night off so early and that she was only taking a small nap.

You kept your fingers slowly massaging the back of her head so she didn’t have to try keeping herself awake, and so the next time Gerri woke up was early in the morning with the soft light from her desk still on and your warm arms still wrapped around her body while you slept.

Your first night spent together as lovers, albeit initially frenzied, ended up being nothing less than perfect. 

But what was your friendship with Gerri if not a bit chaotic from time to time?

That was how you liked it, anyway.

[genshin-scenarios]

Reunion: Pretenses [Part 3]

Read the first series (Adopt a Wanderer) here! An AU where Scaramouche/Wanderer gets isekaied to your world - a found-family series.

Summary: A new (but familiar) person meets your acquaintance, but perhaps things aren't quite what they seem?

Warnings: contains spoilers of Wanderer's story in the archon quest!

Part 2 <-

-> Part 4

Despite your awkward attempts to bid him goodbye, Wanderer did a pretty good job of finding interest in your temporary home.

From what you can tell, he currently has no memories of his past, stuck in that uncertain stage of the Archon Quest after he’d tried erasing his existence. However, while you had an idea of Wanderer’s circumstances, a part of you still couldn’t get used to seeing him like this.

“So you found this place from exploring the forest?” He studies your small home, taking a quick look around. The space feels much smaller with two people, but you push that thought to the back of your mind.

“It’s nothing much.” You’re not sure if you should be wary or worried for him, with how good-natured he’s been acting ever since you met earlier. “I’m sure you would’ve seen better homes during your travels.”

“Sometimes when I wander too far away from civilization, I end up sleeping through the rain under a tree.” Wanderer chuckles to himself. “I’d be quite happy if I found a spot like this to return to.”

“R… Right…” For lack of better words, you resist the urge to ask him if he’s okay. “It sounds like you’ve traveled quite a lot.”

“Not as much as I would’ve liked.” He pauses. “I feel like I’ve been searching for something that is still unknown to me, even till this day.”

'If you smile as you feel joy and cry when in grief, isn't that enough to be considered human?'

The voice of your past self echoes in your mind, but the words die out before they can reach your tongue.

“I’m sure you’ll find it eventually.” You offer him a smile, genuinely hoping he’ll find some closure after the Traveler runs into him. Not you, who can't do much for him this time. You’d forgotten how conflicting it is to be a bystander in a situation like this, where the person in front of you was so close yet so far. 

At least back then, within the safety of an apartment and world you knew as yours, you had the chance to offer him some shelter from the rain.

.

.

.

…Kuni does have to admit, seeing your internal conflict whenever he makes a request as ‘Wanderer’ really is quite amusing. Try as you may to push him away with a variety of excuses, you couldn't seem to bring yourself to shut him out when he bore such a well-meaning, doe-eyed demeanor.

Was it a chore to feign innocence around you? Yes. But when it came to matters of predicting human intention, Kuni has grown to be more critical than not. It helped that he’s grown into a pretty good actor after centuries of questionable exploits. Whether it was to simply appear human or to play the part of a confused traveler, he’s practiced quite a lot of roles. It’s amazing what can be brought out of a person’s character when they believed the other person had nothing to hide, or was too innocent for their own good.

And while you may try to act like a simple stranger and resident of Teyvat, he could tell that you’ve been observing him, trying to match some information in your mind. 

Suffice to say, Irminsul did not contain data of you (you were not from here, much like the Traveler), yet after recovering his memories from his encounter with the Dendro Archon, Kuni started to receive odd visions in his dreams.

They contained bits and traces of an uneventful life in another world. For weeks it had only featured himself doing menial tasks such as chores and reading books, but the headaches only began when another character appeared; you.

It started as a flood of memories, one after another settling into his mind as if they belonged to him far longer than he’d been the Balladeer or Kabukimono. But just as quickly as that clarity came, it was snatched out of his hands as he woke, a foreign bundle of nerves crawling up his throat - burning, burning.

When asked, Kuni would simply tell Nahida that sleeping to pass the time was just about as interesting as the mundane ongoings of Sumeru. Within his dreams, he continues to piece together the puzzles of a past that seemed to evaporate from reality the moment he'd returned to Teyvat. 

Perhaps it was some cruel experiment by the gods, to place him in a life that might have been worth living, only to return him to a fate written by the stars.

But what of you, who was privy to the story of this world long before it occurred? As he continued upholding the image of a good-natured, amnesiac Wanderer, his suspicions that you were already aware of his fate only confirmed itself; for someone who tries to leave his side as soon as you'd met again, you were incredibly bad at controlling your body language from betraying your emotions. Why else would you look at him with such an odd tangle of relief and remorse?

Yet with every interaction, Kuni is finding it hard to feel anger towards you. Perhaps it’s because he’s encountered far greater evils in his long life — or perhaps it is because of the way you try to maintain your distance, only to give in to the illogical urge of stepping back towards him (out of sympathy, or guilt? He intends to find out.)

His own feelings about the matter was another story, so Kuni instead focuses on the matter at hand; finding a way to bring you into the city, which you seem to have been avoiding for a while. (Admittedly, after he found a name and general idea of your profile from his dreams, he’d begun to investigate if you could have existed in Teyvat or had a counterpart. The search came up empty, but luckily the Aranara were quite willing to pass along gossip to Kuni, and he soon learned there was an odd outlander living around the Avidya Forest. You seemed to be living quite cautiously, perhaps to avoid him.)

Kuni’s flattered that after arriving here, you’d seemingly based most of your actions around him (asking around about the situation in Sumeru, if there were any new gods cropping up… without actually trying to make contact with him. He'd settle that bit with you later.)

While slightly exasperated and annoyed about your avoidant antics, Kuni has to admit it was quite amusing to see how long you could keep up the act, squirming every time he prodded and tried to bait you into a situation where ‘Wanderer’ might unearth your lies.

“With how much it’s been raining lately, it’s easy to get sick.” Kuni says as he places down the firewood you’d collected together. Ulterior scheme or not, he highly doubts you were able to chop wood by yourself with no prior equipment or practice. He glances at you, playing this off as a passing thought. “Have you ever felt unwell lately?”

There’s a pause as you contemplate your answer. “...I had pretty bad headaches for a while, but they’ve subsided by now.” It’d occurred the same night you arrived in Teyvat, as if your body and mind were having to adjust to this new world and in recovering the memories you’d lost. Luckily, the Aranara you became acquainted with was quick to find you some herbs to soothe the pain. “I managed to get some medicine though, so it wasn’t too bad.”

The amount of herbs packed into bags around your desk says otherwise, but Kuni doesn’t mention it. “I see… If you’re free after this, would you like to head to the city together, then?”

“Oh, what for?”

(Was it a betrayal for you to shield him from the truth all those years ago, when you were already aware of what his future would hold?)

“I’ve worked for a merchant there, who has some products you may be interested in.” Kuni dusts off his hands, giving you a reproachful look. “I believe that the… produce you’ve been living off so far, may not be the most suitable for a healthy lifestyle. That is, if you don’t mind me saying this.”

In other words; ‘your living conditions are a little concerning, and that’s coming from me’. You can practically feel your pride deflating at the fact he’d tried to word it nicely. 

(Just what is truth, and why does it only ever bring him pain?)

“I… I see.” You clasp your hands together, entwining your fingers to calm your nerves. “I suppose we could do that, yes.”

But what if it triggers the Traveler’s quest? What if me being there changes something, and…

Before you could reconsider, Kuni takes your hand and leads you out the door. He offers you a smile and asks if you’ve been to the city before, letting the conversation fill the air.

(And why is it that despite you being the first to lie to me, the time we spent together remains the kindest in my memory?)

(Just why do I feel such regret?)

-> Part 4

[tyxoxo]

Ylang Ylang - teaser.

teaser, find full fic here.

| pairing: fairyhunter!jeno x fairy!reader (afab) au w/ fairy!xiaojun x fairy!reader (if you squint)

| genre: suspense, angst, fantasy, multiple nct/wayv + aespa character inserts, jeno and hendery are brothers

| summary: while being close to you and your family’s extinction, a promise needs to be broken to save the lives of your people

| words: loading…

| (future) warnings: murder, blood, torture, cnc smut + suggestive scenes, blackmail, kidnapping, exhibitionism, caging/imprisonment, degrading, spitting, unprotected sex

(this is purely fiction, warnings in bold mean potentially triggering content)

a/n: @jenomov and i came up with this concept out of nowhere and we decided to start writing our own versions. BUT i did make a header for us to share while she typed up the summary (which is awesome cuz i suck at them). just thought i’d clarify so no one would think we’re stealing/plagiarizing each other's work. just think of this as a collab! :’)) also, jeno’s look in the header is essentially how i envisioned him to look for this story but imagine him however you want (can’t help that haechan takes great pictures ㅠㅠ) 

playlist: 

livv? - ylang ylang

weatherby - fleeting frozen heart 

alex sloane - mine

datfootdive - stars

“C’mon Xiaojun, spit it out already!!” 

You teased at your loving best friend, shoving him playfully with a single finger as you watched him struggle to speak lucid sentences.

The two of you were in your favorite and most “private” hang out spot—in the trees on the outskirts of your shared village. Far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the community, but close enough for comfort. Though you tried your best not to drift into the terminology of “safety”, “danger”, or “warnings.” 

It was a sure way to initiate ill omens.

Both of your parents were aware of your shared infinity for exploring; venturing past the municipality limits. But as long as the two of you shrunk to “the size of a quail” outside of the village, they allowed you to bask in the wonders of blaring curiosity, to your heart’s content. Your species could never truly bring your guard down…

“Sorry…I just can’t form my words today.” He scratched the back of his head as peered down at his lap, rustling the Crane's-bill flower crown perched atop his mauve hair in the process. 

“Since when do you ever really form your words?” 

This time you gave a subtle laugh to pair with your smile, hoping to ease his obvious discombobulation. 

“You’re right. I don’t.” 

His eyes met yours, his wings even twitching, which always signified when your kind was flustered.

He continued again, pulling at his own thumb as he drifted his eyes up to the newly blossomed tree leaves; an obvious attempt to avoid eye contact.

You could try to deny it for as long as you lived, but there was something within you that adored him more than he probably ever knew.

It was his tenderness, his soothing voice, his patience, whether it was those nights you stormed out of your house in search of him, as a form of solace from the constant nightmares of your genocide, or the days that you wanted to rant about your parent’s overprotectiveness (though they’ve eased up in recent years).

Anything you needed, he was there. And you always tried your best to do the same, despite having the feeling that he bottled up some of his troubles to keep from feeling like a burden himself.

“Well…I w-wanted to tell you, that I really appreciate you.” 

He gave up on his own finger trap, to tug at the bottom of his white flounce shirt, finally meeting your eyes again with another twitch of his translucent wings.  

“I appreciate you too Xiaojun, always.” 

You leaned forward, so light that you barely caused the branch underneath you to stir. He froze upon witnessing your close contact, only his brown irises lowering to watch as you took both of his hands into your own.

“Is everything okay?” 

You didn’t mean for your voice to come out in a whisper, but his stuttering had become more frequent, and this only made your thoughts whirl just as loudly as his.

If only you knew that he was on his way to confess his true feelings to you, if only he could get his mouth to work as fast as his brain, maybe then he could finally pull the weight off his shoulders.

But you made all of this difficult without even trying. His love for everything that was you, was infinite. 

Even your constant teasing.

And the glimmer in your eyes was no match for his composure, let alone the way you held his hands. 

You scanned his face in search of an answer, that definitely took too long for him to spill.

“Yeah don’t worry, everything's fine.” 

You tilted your head in confusion, wondering where this could possibly be going, knowing he was aware of your ever-so-obvious “what’s the deal” persona. 

He cleared his throat, and geared himself up for the revelation of a lifetime,

“I’ve been m-meaning to tell you that I really like you…that I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have this moment with you.”

You felt your wings twitch, more noticeable than his own. And the warmth that flooded your entire body could’ve lit the entire forest in a swarming blaze. 

“W-would it be crazy if I asked you to be mine—”

His lips seemed to come at a rest in slow motion, eyelashes fluttering in stark contrast as he heard your breath hitch in your throat.

Not even the sun’s rays that flashed through the white pine tree could’ve taken you out of your shock. 

You used what seconds you had left, to replay his confession in your head,

“…I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have this moment with you”

Xiaojun, your best friend since childhood, had always dreamed of this.

But the thoughts of responding were ripped away, as blood-curdling screams roared from the direction of your home. They weren’t light hearted nor playful by any means, and with the ability to hear great distances, the agony that bestowed upon your ears caused you both to wince in fear. 

Xiaojun turned his head to look through the leaves, skin turning pale upon hearing further destruction. 

Most of the branches obscured your vision, but it didn’t take much longer for the despair to continue. 

“They found us!” 

That voice, sounded like Karina.

And her frenzied words gave the answer—after 10 years of hiding, the hunters were back. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, the ability to breathe becoming a distant memory.  

You squeezed Xiaojun’s hand as you crawled through the thick pine, your best friend eventually grabbing your waist to stop you from venturing out too far.

“Stay back!” His hushed tone was never this turbulent, bringing all the more truth to the chaos brewing just a mile away. 

“This can’t be! We have to go help!”

“It’s too dangerous, I can’t risk you getting hurt!” 

Your adrenaline was too much for Xiaojun, as you managed to fight through his tight embrace or rather his hold on your longing to see your family and friends for what could be the last time. 

“Let me go! We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

You attempted to gear your wings for flight as you broke through his hold, hands raking through the leaves to get a clear view through the sea of green.

As you hovered past the pine tree, a familiar being appeared to be flying this way, the telltale sign being the blush colored wings that matched the embroidered dress swaying through the win at high speeds.

It was Giselle. And upon her getting a closer distance, you saw the blood spatter that painted her arms in fresh crimson. 

She was her natural size, like what your kind all chose to be while in the comfort of your home, and the only guess as to why she didn’t choose to shrink was the amount of energy it took to do so. She seemed to grip at her side as the blood continued to stain her silk dress, not once looking up at which direction to fly. Her Dahlia flower crown was nowhere to be found, something that she cherished more than anything in the world.

You had to help her, get her to safety within the trees, whatever you could to secure a better fate. But the constant screams kept you too terrified to react, and being out in the open like this was indeed risky. 

Before you could muster the strength to call her name, Xiaojun was behind you, the vibration of his wings filling your senses. He leaped at you once again, this time pulling you back towards the trees with labored breaths.

He couldn’t just do this to you…prevent you from saving a life, from saving not only your friend, but his friend too.

You managed a measly call of her name, knowing her advanced hearing would be enough. And successfully, she glanced up for the first time since her escape, to watch as you motioned for her to join together in the same tree.

Her face, lit up with hope, was the last sanguine expression to ever grace her face, as the all too familiar sound of a crossbow arrow being loosed from its quarrel sped towards her injured frame.

Your scream, one just as gut-wrenching as those that continued from your home, was muffled against Xiaojun’s palm as he pulled you back within the tree. You were forced away from any further intervention, forced away from burying your guilt.  

Giselle flung forward from the sheer impact of the arrow as it shot through her heart, her umber strands flying through the air in the same intensity; entire body falling face forward onto the red speckled Bermuda grass.

You couldn’t look away, not while you witnessed her final moments—eyes drifting up to meet yours within her last breath, wings falling lifeless against her spine, and a faint smile from knowing you would be the last person she would ever see, instead of the hunters that were walking towards her. 

Your entire body shook against Xiaojun, trembling in fear that her killers would surely discover the two of you here.

“Fuck! Hendery I had her!” 

An unfamiliar voice, but one you would never forget, roared through the clearing that led to your dead friend. 

You never felt so much anger from a person before, someone that you could only imagine was seething at the teeth.

Xiaojun finally took his hands away from your mouth, allowing you to inhale as much as you could before they got too close. But he still kept his arms wrapped around you, fighting through his own sobs that hit against the back of your neck.

“No Jeno! I’m not letting you fuck this up anymore! Remember what Johnny said?”

Yet another unfamiliar voice, but you were able to put the faces with the names right as the two humans approached just meters away, barely appearing disheveled despite the chaos they just unleashed. Thankfully their lack of enhanced senses worked in your favor, as you and Xiaojun remained undetected during their inspection of the area.

The one holding the crossbow was Hendery: he had to have been the one to take the kill. And the one to speak first was Jeno. 

These had to have been the hunters your family warned about. For years since relocating to this new area, all of the last surviving elders made it their mission to describe these two, for if the day came that they scoured the land again, you would instantly know it was them. 

—

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[lordoftherazzles]

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[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

28 - The Clash of Three Kings

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.9k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, mentions of past character death, descriptions of gore and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, slight exhibitionism kink

Notes: No crazy revelations occured right at the end of the last chapter right? Nah, I'm sure everything is fine and dandy as always. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

The sun was shining so abnormally bright it verged on painful to look at, but through the harsh squinting you persisted through the brush. A strange overcoming of determination within your veins the closer you got washed over you, the memory of what came before having you go faster as you traversed the terrain towards the mouth of the mine. 

Hardly what would normally be called a mine, it was more a series of tunnels which as soon as were accessed deep enough, housed a shining variety of a kind of rock little spoken of by any except for you on this very island. Surrounded by life of the once Targaryean dynasty it was impossible to avoid their impacts left on Dragonstone. Their mark left on the castles with fire, dragons, and three hundred years of using this place as a second spot to rule over away from the capitol. 

You scarcely ever had a reason to use such aspects of that childhood home. To you, it was not a terrifying island that one homed the infamous dragon riders and conquerors. But an isolating home that left you with no real friends to speak of, a big and vast castle home that made hiding away too easy. The terrain of jagged cliffs and curtain hangs that lead from impenetrable shore rocks as a shield from the outside world leading deep into the woods that homed the volcano of Dragonmont. Yet to you, it wasn’t that which you spent time in. 

It was the curiosity of tunnels underground and in caves and mines which sparked your attention. You had no friends nor siblings, and little lived near the castle that were not other adults or children just too old to want to play with a five year old. So you explored, and that was how you found the tunnels, and in those tunnels, you learned the trickier the climb down, the more you found. One day, you had tossed a torch far down the middle of a shaft to see how far it went, and as it thudded against the bottom you saw shining rocks that looked like crystals that had you learn to climb all alone to find out what they were. 

You liked exploring the mines as a girl with no friends and nothing to do, but now as you approached one of those very tunnels, it was not the adventure you sought.

It was the very shining crystal like rocks that were spoken to be an answer to a freezing horror far beyond the North. 

The four of you were deep into the woods surrounding the outer borders of Dragonmont, coming close enough that looking high in the sky your neck would crane up with a squint to see the increasingly warm air was also thick and heavy in your lungs due to the smoke smoothly simmering from the very top. It had done so since you were born, you hardly noticed it despite Theon, Ryk and Tormund glancing at the other with questioning gazes at how little it winded you. 

Many of the entrances were not easily accessible. Dragonglass had never once been mentioned in the books of Westerosi history to be of any importance, so it all sat underground as a natural deposit the realm cared not to trade. The only times it was whispered such tunnels were used was in the very beginning of it’s existence which mattered. The Doom of Valyria had survived none but the family named Targaryean, and with them as they fled brought with them both dragons and dragon eggs. 

Deep underground found by none were rumoured to be hatcheries that sat so hot under the volcano that it was the only place they could be born, their dragons. The volcano ran deep under the depths of the water and so it couldn’t be as simply as that, but also no such thing had been found. Once they took over the lands by force and death, their dragons were instead bred from which they could use them the most, and the Dragonpit of King’s Landing was created. The space of the island and how little could be grown or harvested there, it made no sense to you to think raising such terrors of the sky could be sustainable. 

Most of Dragonstone’s biggest import were harvested crops, grain, vegetables and freshly kept livestock to feed with. It was a place built to terrify, but it seemed the Targaryeans had begun their dynasty of unsustainabiity so early that a lifeless rock of heat and brimstone was seen as a place to raise such creatures. If their eggs hatched under the grounds of Dragonmont, you could only think how foolish it was to do so. Whatever tunnels which existed once, were no more then crawling spaces that would terrify the untrained, and certainly not to drag eggs in to hatch and hope they survive. 

Coming up to a jagged formation of stones sat against a rolling cliff side, you had been the first to get off your horse. Tying it to a tree without a word to your three companions as you begun to walk around the area with narrowed, squinting eyes to seek out signs that this was one of the spots you left behind. 

“What are we looking for exactly?” 

Tormund had called out to you, but you scarcely heard. It had to be here somewhere, you thought. A set of feet all walked over to where you looked at the stones, as they looked with a raised eyebrow and confused expressions. Only it took not much longer for it to come to your vision, a small carving at the very edge of a stone had you crouch down by it, and without a second word begun to pull the heavy rock out. Tossing it with heave down to the side, and there one sat. 

All three men came to your side glancing into the darkness as you somewhat tried to see in, only to lean back out, gesturing to Theon to grab you the bag by your horse. Tossing some of it to he and Tormund from what was inside, “Should be something in there to make a torch of.” 

As you somewhat climbed partially into the smaller entrance, body half inside with one gloved hand braced at the top as you looked around the sight. It was too dark for any to see properly once deep enough, but you knew these tunnels so much it was like it had been lit up already. 

Turning back, you reached out as Theon handed you the lit torch and finally all watched you lean back under and half inside to see, and then the faintest of a grin fell over your lips. Moving the rest of the way in, you had not waited for the three to follow as you walked along the top surface, torch high as you continued along, lighting up small loose torches that had sat untouched the years between this visit and the last in here, having left them yourself when still exploring. 

“Not exactly what I imagined when you said there was a shit ton of it.” 

Looking back partially towards Theon with a raised eyebrow before your face fell flat. Picking up one of the torches you handed it to him while adding to its fire, as Tormund kept the area lit with another.

Walking up to the edge you leaned close and tossed the lit flame down, gesturing for them with a nod to peak themselves. As the flames landed down far at the bottom of the cavern, there was a twinkling glow around it that flashed up to your eyes in some spots. Tormund’s eyes were wide and a tinge of impressed as his voice muttered out, “Better start climbing then.” 

There were rings dug deep into the stone along the drop down, places as it to slide a torch within to see as multiple climbing digs were embedded along as well. “Some of these I put in when I was still a girl, be sure to check they are stable before stepping down onto any.” 

Tormund himself eyed Ryk climbing next to him with a condescending grin plastered, “Hear that, Longspear? We got no way of carrying you back up, means if you fall, best try and die when you do it.” 

Rolling your eyes with a tinge of playful, you and Theon flickered your glances with amusement as you all made your way down. This one, was far easier. The rocks more forgiving of any tools, there was light and no need to keep so quiet as your time could be taken all of your own choosing. Each descend far enough, you and Ryk at each end would stay back to move your only two sources of fire down to each new metal hold you both would stake into the cave wall, intending later that very day to fill them all with proper lighting along with the rest of your work.

You had intended to do this first part alone, simply getting here and making any sources of light to see a path but you had been seen awake far too early for any soul by Tormund. He had noticed the distance in your eyes that spoke of something he realized had no clues given to him over it, and your only admission that there was just much to think about that made you struggle to sleep was begged to be dropped. 

So he woke Ryk, or moreso, dragged him out of sleep with force and rumbled to him about not sitting around on his ass. Theon didn’t sleep well either, but he never did anymore. So when he had found you by where one of the guards guided him to the kitchens in the confusing halls, he had come across you gathering water. “You’re up way too early.” He had jested.

You rose an eyebrow at him, before nodding at his own person with a flat, “So what are you doing here then?” Unlike Tormund, you knew Theon could see something had not just woken you up, but something had kept you up and for how alert your eyes were, you were awake since before the sun dawned over the sea. You had mentioned getting an early start on the tunnels, and that sorted that out. 

Telling you to not leave before he could grab what he, himself needed. Not asking if he could help or join and you didn’t even think about it. A strange little trio of climbers was this group turning out to become. And luckily for you, two of them were dynamic enough to speak most of the silence, and Theon had found it easier over time to converse more like a normal person and spoke for you on the climb down the cave wall. 

But there was something in your eyes that Theon didn’t know, and it was odd to him at this point between the pair of you that he found something he had no clue how to read between your stoic expressions. 

He also, were he to be honest much later on, wished he knew before hand that when he would wake up some hours after you all took off, Jon would have not a single clue where you had gone all day. He would’ve at least requested a guard inform him rather then let the King in the North be blindsided by it, but once you were focused heavily on something, you tended to forget many details of the world around you. 

But as all four reached the bottom of the cavern, Theon and Tormund stood by the other and only when the torch light beside both of them from Ryk and yourself came to light up more of the sight, did the visions around come into view of the reality. The walls grew darker as the lower it had become and around the four of you was a shine. 

The walls were high and paths off shooting from high up and low down, but everywhere were darker spots of stone that weren’t quite fitting with the rest. In large chunks deeply framing the cave walls with twists and turns and edges that spiked out with jagged amounts it all sat around looking far more dark and otherworldly then even the black stone made of the castle above. Looking all around each of you walked the bottom, you handing up the torch in your hand and snatching up the one laying at the bottom still flaming away. Stabbing another metal loop into a chunk of normal rock you hung it up on another wall, each man around you with a quiet in their eyes.

Your head turned high, and the reflective glass like rock stared back as if hiding another world in it’s depths below the dark and heavy air of the lands. None heard your breathless whisper and none needed to, you could feel the necklace sitting against your chest and that was all you needed. “I told you I’d take you down here one day.” Her bright eyes were clear as day as you could almost smile imagining Shireen by your side with wonder as she looked around the ethereal cavern. 

“So, what now?” 

Your body turning back to the three men as Tormund glanced to you. Chest rising and falling heavy with a deep inhale and subsequent exhale, you pulled out a bag attached close to your side and tossed it to him while your other hand pulled out rope hiding along under the back of your cloak. “We start digging paths around the tunnels.” 

Ryk glanced up curiously, “How many tunnels lead into here?” 

Shrugging you knew of many but lost count of many others. “More then I’ve ever explored. This isn’t the only one either, there are caches all around the island that don’t even lead into the other. But this was the biggest one to start with that I know my way around well enough.” 

There was no more reason to stand around in awe, you all had a long day ahead of you. 

The fact that few seemed to even question where you were didn’t sit well with him. Those all working in the castle of Dragonstone seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary that you had not appeared anywhere within the walls or the grounds. 

It didn’t quite feel good, waking up that morning to find not only were you not still laying in bed with him, but then Jon couldn’t seem to find you anywhere and once more he was keeping down a panic of something he was trying very hard to keep to himself. It was in his eyes though, and as he finally came across Stannis he was fairly certain he did a poor job of hiding it. His rough, low tones did not make the matter any less subtle to the keen eyed Baratheon. 

Both stood near the other by the giant table, what seemed to be the room used most from the Baratheons as the meeting hall, the very top room of the main Stone Drum tower. Carved and painted to look just like Westeros from Dorne to the Wall, Jon had been there first. A guard escorting him to where he was told Stannis would like to meet with him having not a clue yet where things in this confusing mess of a castle were. Running his hand along the surface with narrowed eyes before coming to the end of the table. 

Some feet behind him was the splashes of the sea and morning sun shining onto the surface, lighting up where Dorne had been placed by the edge. Only moments before, his curiosity had him picking up a wooden figurine that had been dropped close to the Prince’s Pass. A wooden dragon figure had been cracked and split down the middle as the other lay alone whereas everything else on the board was placed with careful precision.

“I don’t need them to believe me, but as long as we’re here I’d rather give them the chance to help instead of sitting in the dungeons as prisoners.” 

He and Stannis disagreed on bringing Aegon and Jon Connington up from their cells to discuss any terms of peace. “You are optimistic, too much so. You asked of them for cooperation and they forced your men to the shores to fight, why would they change their attitudes now?” 

Jon however, felt not the grudge or anger many expected of his enemies but instead an understanding in his eyes were bright as he willed the man across from him to listen. “If Aegon wants to leave, fight other battles for the Iron Throne then he can leave. But they won’t stop at coming for us, they’ll come for them as well too. At least give me the chance to explain that.” Stannis looked doubtful, and Jon’s tone was a bit lighter if quieter as he leaned forward. “He could be a useful ally.” 

The rigidness that responded however was unconvinced. “If he’s his father’s son the only use he would be is rotting in a dungeon as far from any crown as possible.” Jon only challenging him on if he wasn’t, and Stannis looked almost through him for a moment to think. “I would very much doubt he is any different, but you are right. We can give he and Lord Connington that chance.” 

Nodding, in agreement, Stannis gestured to his own men to bring Lord Connington up. Seeing Jon’s questioning gaze he simply explained, “He will be the easier starting point. There is something of bad blood between Baratheons and Targaryeans, after all.” 

He hadn’t had as much of a look at Aegon as he had Connington, but Jon still couldn’t help but try and envision the man he came here in claimant of. How similar were father and son, and how much of those similarities would prove to be foreboding once more? His voice barley above a whisper as his fingers dug into the table where he kept himself braced against. “What was he like?” Stannis looked to him with a flat expression save for a raised eyebrow, “Rhaegar Targaryean? Everyone talks about what the Mad King was like, but..” 

He was once more envious of your families ability to remain so steady and unaffected by anything, when Jon could hear his fathers voice telling stories of his Uncle, his Grandfather. The ones he would never meet and how it was their deaths that started the war. Or how he struggled to ever bring up his sister, Jon’s Aunt, the one whose kidnapping was the catalyst for the war to have come. Those pains never really went away for his father, and truthfully, the entire family as well. 

Now the only remaining child of Eddard Stark and not even the one called Stark in name, and yet all that pain fell onto Jon’s shoulders. It felt odd to think. 

“It differs depending on who you ask. Most who served under him would think of him as charming and brave.” Somehow Jon thought to himself, he doubted that. “If you asked my brother Robert, he would have told you he was a monster. An abomination that some twenty four years later still made him just as angry as he did when he was alive.” 

Jon’s eyes were far away, a glazed over distance trying to reconcile such drastic ends. “And you?” A hum of question leaving Stannis’s throat. “What would you say about him?” 

It wasn’t however a casual feeling which sat in Stannis’s eyes even though he tried to portray it in his even tone. “It is as I said. There is bad blood between House Targaryean and Baratheon, and that bad blood did not end with Robert. You seem very willing to cooperate with the boy, and his father has wronged your family more then my own.” 

He could be angry, but he also knew that wasn’t where his anger lay. It wasn’t trapped within vessels of a past he would never know, it was in the present he needed to protect. “If he isn’t anything like Rhaegar, I want to give him a chance to prove it.” 

It was difficult to read, but it seemed as if a bit of pride sat behind Stannis’s eyes. “You are a more forgiving man then most.” 

Jon only felt his knuckles strain against the flexing pressure he leaned against them with. “No, I’m not. But I am patient enough to give him the benefit of the doubt first.” Not to which he would say it out loud, but he was glad he never saw the fight between Aegon and you. He wasn’t so sure he would have that same patience had he seen the dragon against you as such.

He had asked enough people in the castle, he didn’t need to come off as over protective in front of your own father by asking where you were, but it itched inside Jon’s chest not to do so anyways. He couldn’t let himself spiral, not to obsess over the fear that every single dark, and perverse thought which came pouring out of his mouth the night before had chased you away. You had responded more eager then what his heart could handle. He couldn’t stand there and let himself lose control over it, not now. 

Not in front of what was about to be a meeting full of no doubt awkward discussions of the North, as he knew he was the only firm source between he and Stannis to portray the extend to which this issue was not the North’s alone. 

But it still lingered in fear as the two of them waited. Had he said something in such raw honesty that in some way over stepped your marriage to Robb? Had he simply been too vulgar with you? Or worse, too rough? Not a single spec of the world existed that night other then the two of you entangled together in front of the fire, but perhaps in the light of morning it was too much for you to look back on.

Maybe Jon thought, he needed to ease up with you. That perhaps it was his intensity which scares you. 

It was a blessing which none here cared about keeping up proper appearances. Deep underground was boiling enough without the amount of movement you all were doing, coating you in sweat, grime, and occasionally blood if you weren’t careful enough. Most of the day was spent either climbing along the walls, or on your stomach or back pulling through tight tunnels to map out in detail. 

The open spaces only grew to be more vast. A dark glass like stone that shined black as if it were reflecting right off of the night sky, and sat all around in crystal like formations along the walls as if growing on there. You wondered how much it would shine and glow were the sun to open up inside of these walls. 

Not every rock was made of Dragonglass, but it was painted so heavily along the walls you felt utterly surrounded by it, despite the heat however every touch to your skin was cool. 

Currently, you were perched on a small tunnel space, trying to carve out the simple rock against the walls so it was easier for one to crawl though, knowing it opened up from what the flames hinted at was a vast cavern which you suspected led to much more. Not too far from you was Theon, digging supports into the walls making climbing much easier then the free kind you all had to do to get to this point. 

Somewhere off in nearby tunnels you could hear the muffled bickering of Tormund and Ryk as any chuckling or laughter boomed off the walls and echoed all up to the surface. 

“How do you know so much about all of this?” Turning your head down and to the side from where you had been reaching up, you almost coughed as you accidentally let some of the gravel fall too close to your face. Raising your eyebrow with a grimace, Theon gestured around him. “Dragonglass, how’d you know this was all here in the first place?” 

Hands dropping down to the stone below, you glanced up to where you could see the circling of torches finally having lit the cave up to see without issue, the licking flames all fading in brightness the closer to the surface and further the black dragonglass faded into merely dark stone. Dropping your gaze back to him only briefly as you returned to your task. Voice a bit far away even in there. “I used to explore these tunnels often as a girl. There wasn’t much else to do on Dragonstone and I didn’t have any friends, so I started working my way through these tunnels.” 

You had missed something a bit sad behind Theon’s eyes, but it was there in his softer tone. “So you spent your days crawling and climbing through mines hoping to what? Find something special?” 

Huffing a laugh, you winced trying to knock out a more difficult stone in the way which was attached to the edge of dragonglass, a very difficult kind of rock to cut through with the tools at hand. “Those in the villages say that the Targaryeans built rooms in here, places to hatch their dragon eggs near the heat of the volcano, lit by never ending fires and wooden pathways which long rotted to the ground. I only ever found more cave, no dragons, no magical rooms. Just rock and tight spaces.” 

“You believe that? That something special made their dragons hatch here?” 

You huffed another strained laugh, not even looking at him. “Not for a second. Most of them were born in Kings Landing during their dynasty. No great fire, no volcano, just a dragonpit to hatch their eggs in. If Dragonstone was so special, they would have been breeding them here far before Valyria fell.” 

You were beginning to regret keeping your skin of water so close to the ground, squinting down to decide if the path was worth it before ultimately deciding to just endure. Theon had begun working away at the stones and spikes once more, speaking through the hammering. “Would have loved to see one, though.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have.” His head whipped over to you, but you shrugged before turning away again as you elaborated. “Robert destroyed most of what the Targaryeans had left, but under the Red Keep in their own tunnels there is still a massive dragon skull. Must have thought it too big, or it was an artifact and so he hid it away. But it was huge, could stand up in it’s mouth and still not reach top to bottom.” Grimacing as you tore off finally a more difficult piece, you sighed out. Dropping your arms to look at Theon properly. “If you ask me, something that big flying around breathing fire? We’re better off them all being dead.” 

“You really think so?” 

Instead of the amusement he expected, there was nothing but a darker glint behind your eyes as you saw fire. Wildfire exploding before you in bright greens that had men screaming and clawing at their own burning skin, and that was nothing compared to what it was said dragonfire could do. “Dragons don’t plant trees. They don’t create, they don’t build. They destroy. Creatures like that, have no place in the kind of world people like us are trying to fight for.”

Your voice was rough, a gritting that grated against you throat like sand as you begged for water and a soothing honey to warm it down as you continued, finding Theon’s eyes properly. “Dragons only know death and destruction, and as soon as they were gone, Targaryeans had nothing left to trick us into thinking they were special. They aren’t special for being able to ride dragons. Nothing is special about controlling a creature whose only purpose is to destroy.”  

Your mind floating off to a thought you had come down here so early in the morning to avoid. A thud came from one of the higher tunnels, Tormund making his way out and calling your attention over. “How many places do you have shit stashed around this place?” A scattering of old tools now sitting in an ever growing pile.

You almost found it in you to laugh, “I was down here all alone most times. I wanted to make sure I always had tools and ropes in case I ran into issue with what I climbed down with.” 

Tormund shook his head in his own amusement. “If I wasn’t sure Snow would skewer me in my sleep for it, I’d have told these other two to piss off hours ago, pretty crow.” 

If Theon was posed to defend you, it was almost nice for him to see how easily you laughed and how relaxed you responded with no hesitation or fear of any real intent behind the words. “The day is young yet, Tormund.”

The manner in which Jon Connington was looking at him, continued to make him feel a slight bit on edge. Glancing up on multiple occasions with a squinting gaze that bordered on something like curiosity or leaning towards judgment. All three men at least were able to stay calm and steady during the course of their discussions, but it seemed that the Southerners continue to have no reason to believe in the things whispered beyond the wall. 

“I’m not the one who needs convincing. You’ve taken the island for yourselves, I can’t stop you from doing whatever you want here nor have you given me a reason to care. But if Aegon doesn’t agree to it, then that’s where this all ends.” 

Trying to be reasonable was more difficult then Jon initially imagined. Connington and Stannis seemed to be the pair at odds as long as it was the two of them in the room. One firm in his dedication to his King, the other a stubborn King himself motivated by harsh belief. They wanted to make this once more about the Iron Throne as if that was what mattered and Jon could feel the frustration in his veins rising. 

Glancing up at Ser Davos, both men shared a glance with the mutual understanding that they were all getting nowhere. Cutting into Stannis’s response, Jon raised his voice over to overpower the whole room instead. “Lord Connington, I was the one who wrote to him. I asked for peace, to stay here together beacuse what I’m fighting for has nothing to do with the Iron Throne. None of this had to happen this way, we could have all stood here and talked this out yesterday but it was Aegon who forced us to fight.” 

Connington’s eyes narrowed slightly, a strange wonder still behind them that was beginning to make Jon wish Ghost was with him. Commonly whatever intentions were behind someone’s eyes if Jon didn’t catch it, and you weren’t here to catch it, then Ghost would. But as he spoke, he peeled his eyes from Jon to look once more at Stannis. “Yet you failed to mention the ally at your side was also a King fighting for that same throne. Doesn’t sound like the peaceful course of action to me.” 

Not wavering once, Jon had no care for the insinuation. “I don’t speak for Stannis Baratheon. He joined this fight of his own choice, not mine. And this is his home your men invaded.” 

“And I suppose then it has nothing to do with it also being your wife’s girlhood home either.” His tone was doubtful and sharp but it clearly took both Jon, Davos, and Stannis back for a moment. 

Stannis glanced quickly towards him, but Jon had to keep whatever he thought that look meant internalized. “All that meant is that she and Stannis know this castle, this land. We knew whatever fight there was, would be short if we had two of them who knew this castle in more detail then you or I ever could.” If Jon simply didn’t address it then he didn’t have to fight off the echos in his head from coming to consume him in fear of it being a step too far.

“Marry me, let me take you home and marry me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Gods help him, Jon was so deep inside of you when that came clawing out of his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to pressure you into that, didn’t want you to assume he wished to replace Robb. But you had felt so good around him, and he had been pounding into you so roughly at that point he was barley in control of what he was saying. Nearly anything could’ve come out of his mouth.

Jon at least considered himself lucky that the worst, most lewd and unhinged parts of those thoughts still remained locked away in his head like a caged animal. If he scared you from his arms last night, he dared not think what giving into those desires entirely would terrify you of. 

Connington didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t argue back on that point. Taking a moment to think before his eyes remained on the table at first. “This is not an agreement to work together,” eyes flickering back up between the two men. “But should Aegon decide he finds utility in this..cause of yours, then I would be willing to broker an arrangement with my men to be of some assistance. Only, if Aegon agrees though. Otherwise we are going to have a problem on our hands.” 

Nodding to Stannis very subtly, the man himself moved to speak to a pair of his guards as Jon and Connington looked at the other. Your name slipped from the laters mouth, “May I ask why she did not attend this meeting? Seems odd for a Queen not to be present for such a matter.” 

Luck found more on it’s way to Jon’s side as Stannis's tone was flat, smooth and without a hesitation. “She had other duties which needed attending too.” 

Whatever hints of an intensity reminding Conning so heavily of Rhaegar, were no longer shining clear in his eyes. And he felt uncomfortable with the fact that he felt relieved at such a sight. 

Jon Connington could see without any doubt however, that Aegon was in some of the worst of spirits as he accompanied guard to get him. Eyes narrowed and angry that struggled to let up even when one came into sight of the other. Standing up quickly, he approached the iron bars in an instant. “Are you alright?” 

He was taken back. Not the question he was expecting from Aegon, his head jolting back a little bit before shaking his head. “I’m fine, been through far worse then this. Are you alright?” Putting more emphasis towards his own fairing. 

Aegon swallowed harshly, shrugging one shoulder even though his voice was as rough as gravel. “Good as any humiliated prisoner can be. Suppose all the men out there had a good laugh at my loss.” 

Connington’s eyes felt a bit, tinted something washed over with a sorrow as he stepped forward. “Listen to me- Aegon.” His voice growing louder with no room for question. Not a way a man speaks to a King, but rather like a father to a son, and both parties didn’t speak of how they both felt it. “You’ve trained your whole life to be a leader, but you aren’t a soldier. You’ve never fought in a battle before last night, and you were up against an opponent who spent three years fighting in a war. No one, on their side or ours thinks that’s funny.”

For a moment he almost sounded like the child Young Griff used to be, muttering and not quite looking him in the eye as he crossed his arms over his chest. “How am I supposed to convince my people to see me as their King, if I was beaten by a girl the first battle I was in? Would my men follow me now knowing I couldn’t even lead one charge to victory?” 

Stepping towards the bars more, Connington rested one gloved hand on the it, wrapping around the iron and dropping his tone, hoping to catch Aegon’s eye. “And I was the one who surrendered to protect you. Yet they still are listening to me just fine. Every good leader fails before he succeeds, and you have only just started. This does not dictate your future, only right now.” 

Aegon nodded, and the quiet sat between them for a moment before quietly speaking up once more, “May I ask why you are walking free and I’m still locked away?” 

“I’ve spoken to our new hosts.” Aegon raised a half unamused eyebrow, catching back only a glimpse of a smirk on one side of Connington's face. “Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon have something they would like to propose. A deal of sort, for peace. I want you to hear them out, what they have to say sounds extraordinary but the choice will be up to you.” 

As the guards opened the cell door, he spoke louder and this time there was no mistakening the playful but stern tone which most only heard from that of a parent “Aegon, this time when I tell you to follow your first instinct, make sure it’s actually yours. I’m asking you, I’m not asking Rhaegar.” 

Only seen by the guards down in those dungeons, as the door opened, both men found the other in a hug that felt far too much like father and son for whose actual son Aegon was supposed to go back being. 

If Jon were being entirely honest, this was the ugliest room he had seen by far on Dragonstone. To which judging by the look he shared with Ser Davos beside him, he was not the only one who thought so. The room was wide, tall ceilings above and much of nothing around. Only a large space of grey and black stone as it led up to a small set of stairs and what seemed to be the ruling seat of whoever was lording over the island. 

Many years ago, back when you had come to Winterfell after moving with your father to Kings Landing long term, he had asked you if the Iron Throne was as immense and threatening as the stories all spoke of it. He remembered so vividly the flat expression on your face and how utterly monotone you had said it. “It might be the ugliest chair I have ever seen in my life.” 

It was spoken to be high in the air and full of swords and spikes melted from those won in Aegon the Conquerors invasion. Many steps to reach just the seat as it loomed over all in the Red Keep. You hadn’t described much of what it truly looked like, but you ensured him it was as disappointing as it was ugly. 

The seat at the front of the Great Hall, was the ugly chair Jon always imagined. A window behind it shaped like the face of a dragon and the seat covering much of it was a jagged formation of black stone that had but one flat surface smoothed out into it to sit on. It was almost a bewildered amusement at how different this place was then Winterfell. 

There wasn’t even a singular, elaborate seat for lords like this. In Winterfell, the main hall was just a hall, every table, bench and chair looked all the same and there were seats enough where his father would sit that had many other beside him for council as well. This wasn’t suited for that, only for demand and control. Hard too, imagining either you or Stannis even sitting on that chair to do anything. 

Much of Dragonstone Jon found, felt like it was created by a people who saw themselves as gods and the more he looked the less he liked any of it. But the final judgment seemed to be lurking around the corner waiting to be brought up. 

Stannis coming to join, there was a lack of calm which was the last as they waited before. Ser Davos looked between both men, before glancing to his own attire. “I’m starting to think I’m not wearing nearly enough armour for this. Are we bracing for a fight or a meeting?” 

Jon’s voice almost echoed in the vast space of the room. “If he’s willing to listen to what we have to say, there’ll be no need for another fight.” 

“Not as if the boy would win.” Jon and Davos both turned to look at Stannis, who only held a glint which almost showed a hint of pride in his eyes.

At least someone was proud of you for that, Jon thought. He certainly wasn’t. Once more the thought crossing through his mind of how little he understood how it was Robb handled it. Every new mark or cut you got in combat only made Jon that much more on edge about having you anywhere near a fight. 

He should be proud, and deep inside of him was, how you had gotten yourself this far. But he couldn’t see passed a vision of you soaked in blood. Jon deliberately avoided putting any pressure on your ribs last night, and the sight of the blues and purples Aegon clearly had hammered into you. Aegon was lucky Jon had a far better handle on his temper then he once did. 

In a way, all three King’s seemed to stand as opposites. Aegon with a rich and ornate dark armour painted black with a bold red of a three headed dragon draped across the chest plate dramatically, his hair longer like Jon’s, but flat and dyed a stand out blue. He also reached much closer to Stannis’s taller stature. But he was hesitant, something light in his eyes that shined a bold blue matching his hair. He looked like a King but his eyes more like an unsure boy. 

Jon on the other hand, knew he looked not much like a King. His armour no more extravagant then any Northerner fighting by his side, only his own House shown just by the small sigil of two direwolves facing one another carved to blend into a small middle of his chest plate. In contrast Jons longer black curls were tied all the way back as matched the grey so dark in his eyes it would appear black in the right light. He stood shorter then Aegon, but with the weight of a leader on his shoulders that the others could see radiated something of authority. That, and Aegon had no sword of his own at this point, while the white wolf pommel of Longclaw sat proud at Jon’s side. 

Stannis however, blended into the room. Greys and Blacks in his wardrobe much like what you dressed in the times of war he know knew you in, and were he to stand still he might have disappeared into the walls, and Jon was fairly certain was intentional. If Jon stood as the opposite of what Aegon presented himself as, Stannis stood apart from the flash of what the Targaryeans showed off with. 

And Jon knew, Stannis was exactly where you got that habit from too. 

The men accompanying them introduced Aegon as he had approached almost as if meant to intimidate with it’s enormity. “I present his grace, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Aegon of the House Targaryean, the sixth of his name.”

It felt like posturing, standing with men of the Golden Company at his back like guard dogs. The only one who stood on the other side of the parties, was Ser Davos. He and Jon shared a look almost speaking silently in a confused question of were they supposed to return the gesture?

Davos, without the decorum of what had just been presented, and if perhaps, just a bit of purposeful simplicity rather then any dramatics. “This is Jon Snow, King in the North. And-”

Aegon interrupted, his voice which sounded more sure and confident then which was spoken of in his eyes directing his attention first to Stannis. “Stannis Baratheon. The King who now stands in my way of the Iron Throne. I have heard much about you, some good, much bad. For someone claiming to be King it seems you are not much known as a popular man.” 

If that was a slight, Stannis budged not even part of an inch in care. His voice stern and cold as it was any time he was commanding the room. “Being well liked alone does not make you a King. It only makes you a fool enough to believe that is all it takes to succeed as one. My brother Renly was popular, stood against me and as soon as he passed, all of his bannerman came to my side and have been as loyal since. I do not need my men to like me, to trust me to lead them.” 

Aegon looked him in the eye, and there was something held back in his tone that did not speak of the same command. “And once the people have seen the rightful heir return to claim his throne, I am certain we will see which one of us holds the true loyalty of the people.” Stannis barley raised an eyebrow and as Aegon turned his attention to Jon, he knew it was possible the steadfast in how unaffected Stannis was had shifted the air in the dragon to something less confident. 

But that confidence did not leave Jon feeling the same. In fact, there was anger in what came out of the dragons mouth. “Now, forgive me, I have not been in Westeros for some years, but I could have sworn that the last King in the North was Torrhen Stark. Who bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon, the first of his name.” Oh did Jon ever feel a rising heat in his veins begging to lash out. “In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. Which if I am not mistaken, means forever.” 

The last time he saw Robb was in the courtyards of Winterfell, a small smile on his face as they both stood younger and naive of the pain and blood to follow their separation. 

“The next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.” 

If he focused enough, Jon could still feel the last hug he ever shared with his brother, his closest companion his entire life. And he felt angry. He knew what Aegon was doing. 

Jon’s voice was a deep, angry rasp with eyes flashing to match. “I wasn’t there, I couldn’t tell you what my ancestor did. But you and I both know of the King in the North before me, the one the North chose first was my brother. Robb Stark was the King they declared after three hundred years of your families neglect of my people.” Robb died for the North, and not for a second was Jon going to stand there and let this stranger insult his memory.

Aegon was playing a game though, a game which he knew too many lords and ladies of this country thought was the way to gain power, but Jon only grew more visibly angry this time as he spoke. “An oath is still an oath. You mean to break faith with House Targaryean-”

Jon’s voice this time, did echo through the room. Stepping forward as his own face twisted in an anger as he shut down whatever this was supposed to be. He was not a Stark in name, but his father had four sons, not three. He still had Stark in his blood. “Break faith? Your grandfather burned my grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive. Your own father-” Not many had heard Jon both yell or speak with anger before and clearly Aegon was not prepared for it. 

“Your family has been wronged by mine, I know this. But I am the last of my line.” Connington’s eyes narrowed, as he looked to Aegon but he ignored that look and pushed forward speaking to Jon. 

Stannis however, did catch the look given and when both men caught the others gaze, there was something unsettled as Connington realized it. There was one other Targaryean, and if Stannis knew about her, then likely you did too. And Jon Connington did not feel good realizing how little Lord Varys had shared about these people to him beforehand. 

Aegon continued, and Jon looked no less angry. If Aegon stood taller in height, Jon stood far taller in demeanour and was much more intimidating. “Our two houses were allies for centuries, and those were seen with peace and prosperity. A Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am The Last Dragon, Jon Snow. Honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North, like your father-” 

None noticed, but Ser Davos almost smirked. If purposely leaving Robb from his recounting of history was enough to make Jon this mad, then that final comment was the last of his patience. “I'm not standing here arguing about this. There’s no time for that, I don't time for any of this. I mean no offence, your grace, but I don’t know you.” 

This time, it was Stannis’s turn to find the amusement. Never once in their disagreements did Jon Snow ever use “your grace” in a drawn out, mocking tone. 

But he continued, stepping closer once more to Aegon as his eyes burned darker in black. “As far as I can see, your only claim to the throne rests entirely on your father and grandfather’s name, and my father fought to overthrow the Mad King. No amount of your empty apologies will make right what he did to my family. And certainly not what your father did to my aunt.” 

The room was quiet. No one spoke for a moment after that. If there was room for sorry in Aerys Targaryean burning Jon’s grandfather and uncle alive, there was not a single solitary room for forgiveness for what Rhaegar had done to his aunt Lyanna. 

Connington spoke after some quiet, Aegon and Jon not taking their eyes off the other the entire time as one brewed with a hesitant uncertainty and the other a deep, hardly contained anger. “King Stannis, I find it odd you are at this mans side. You hold to a claim to the Iron Throne through your brothers lineage, and yet how can you be the one true King of the Seven Kingdoms if you stand next to someone who has stolen the largest half of your Kingdom from you?” 

It wasn’t Jon who saw Robb that time, it was Stannis. And the mistake he spent a very long year and a half regretting. 

“I did not come here to fight, I came here to find any way to a truce...we have been dragged through the muck of your southern wars for far too long.”

He was calm though, and firm. “The North has been in open rebellion long before Jon Snow was King in the North. His brother Robb Stark claimed Northern independence first and I was ready to fight against him for it. Yet I am fighting at the side of his brother, the next King after him beacuse he has shown me that the true enemy lies far beyond that of King’s Landing.”

Aegon broke eye contact with Jon, and looked to Connington. So this was what he was to prepare himself to hear it seemed, but there was still enough spite from the past twenty four hours that something less then pleasant came rolling of his tongue instead of tucking it away, despite knowing he was better then petty insults. But it came out anyways. “And what does some bastard falsely calling himself King have any right to tell men like you or I what to do?” 

You had always called him Snow in playful teasing, and always with a true affection. Focus on that, Jon told himself. Focus on how that never mattered to you, and you made it easier to feel like it shouldn’t matter to him. Don’t stoop to Aegon’s level he warned himself. 

Ser Davos it seemed however, was the one who took up the mantle normally taken up by yourself in Jon’s honour. Defending him against leaving his image as nothing more then a bastard boy. 

“I know little of your life, your grace, but allow me to shed some light on his if you are so unfamiliar. Jon Snow is the first to make allies between wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He was named King in the North. Not because of some blood or birthright. He has no birthright, beacuse he is a damn bastard. But all those hard sons of bitches you fought against chose him as their leader because they believe in him. His brother didn’t name him his heir for any rights or honour, he did it beacuse he believed in him as his brother, as just a man who does the right thing.” 

It felt odd to Jon, hearing someone lay out their belief in him so blatantly, without prompt or question and he found little he could say to stop it. What would he say, he spent his entire life hearing people talk about him in the exact opposite manner, he had no idea how to take such praise. 

“All those things we’ve told you about, Lord Connington? He faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people. He risked everything, took a knife to the heart, gave his own life-”

Wide eyed and almost panicked did Jon turn to Davos and he stopped in a second. The air along the room suddenly turned strange as it was Jon, Davos, and Stannis all in a silent heavy air of something that seemed more serious then a story or rumour. 

Jon Connington had told Lord Varys if this King really died then he could come to his shores like a man and show him his heart himself, but he didn’t ever actually expect this as a reaction to such a crazy story to come up. 

But Jon took charge and swung the topic as far from what scars lay deep over his heart as possible. “I have seen things you would never imagine, your grace. Winter isn’t coming, it’s already here and if we keep standing here debating whose king of what, everyone we know will die before winter's over, if we don't defeat the enemy to the north.” 

You had told him that day on Bear Island that leadership suited him, that his talk alone of the threats to the North were impressive and he hoped that was not just mere flattery. Aegon looked at him, a squint in his eye of curiosity instead of judgment. “And what is the enemy to the north exactly?” 

Jon was blunt and no one on his side gave any remote hint of joke or a lack of seriousness. “The Others. They’re here. I’ve seen them, I’ve fought them and even killed one. And they are coming for us with an army of the dead and if we let them get passed the wall and we have no way to protect our own, the only thing that’ll be left to sit on the Iron Throne will be a frozen corpse, and all you’ll be ruling over is a graveyard.” 

Aegon's voice was far away as it was breathless in nerves. “The Others have been dead for eight thousand years.”

Stannis was the one to respond, a tone just as heavy as Jon’s beside him. “They have been asleep for eight thousand years. Now they aren’t.” 

His tone even, not quite skeptical but something that wasn’t convinced yet not dismissive either as he looked to Jon. “If your raven is to go by, I presume you think such an answer lays beneath the mines here on Dragonstone? What exactly is hiding under the rocks that has you believing it can beat these things?” 

“We can destroy them by burning them, and we can destroy them with dragonglass. That’s what I came here for, not to challenge you on this claim or that claim.” The roughness in his tone was one which sent shivers down Aegon’s spine and a steadfast anger in Jon to force people to listen for once. “I’m not asking us to get along. I’m giving you the chance to help fight for the living, fight with us. The same thing is coming for every single person in this realm whether you believe me or not. This is an army that won’t leave the dead on the battlefield. They will just raise them back up to fight against us.” 

It was quiet, and one last challenge was left on Aegon’s lips. “And you come to me with this story, and expect me to believe it without a shred of proof. If you want my help, Snow, maybe you shouldn't have come here with an army, and their damned family.” Aegons eyes meeting the dark and unblinking harshness of Stannis's.

Jon’s eyes narrowed. If he was to be so stubborn, he could always drag Aegon beyond the wall and let him look into the eyes of the Others himself. He was tired of this, tired of this nonsense. Of people looking at him and his people like they were crazy, only believing in scary bed side stories. Jon and Tormund lost a lot of good men, women, and children that day in Hardhome, and it had him clenching his jaw painfully that it felt as if these Southerners would have to force such a nightmare to happen to them to finally listen to him. 

Only, just as the three men stared the other down did an echoing sound crackle through the hall. The great doors kept watch by guards on the outside slowly begun to crawl open as the sunlight peeked in properly across the darkness of the stones. But as all men in the room turned to realize who had walked in, only one found intention. After all, it was only the night before the fresh wounds on both their persons were placed there in that very same room.

The Great Hall stood as empty as it was tall save for a small group by the main steps of the Lord’s seat above. The easiest to spot was Aegon, the hair a bold blue as eyes to match looked over with a rough contempt as you begun to walk into the hall, as Aegon himself begun to descend the small set of steps to the same level as yourself. 

Whatever quiet words were shared between the men behind him, it seemed the conclusion they came to was to once more let you and Aegon face off with one another. An anger in his eyes towards you matched yours to him.

You had no real weapon on you and from what you could see neither did he, but the sharp flash over both your eyes were cutting enough. Only the echo of footsteps was heard in the hall as you both met in the middle. Floods of fury and fire brewed between you both as there was nothing else in sight but the eyes of a son trying to seek the same control that tore down the family before him. 

Breaking the silence first his voice was more quiet then you expected, keeping the echo away and fluttering only enough that you could be heard here and no more then whispers elsewhere. “The Queen in the North graces us with her presence. I am relieved you could take the time out of your busy day to discuss such important matters.” 

Your face however, much like Stannis before you, moved none. A cold look shining from your eyes as a stern expression set itself in stone just before a glare. You hardly raised your tone above a slight whisper, dripping in a frustration at his tone. “It is no business of yours what I do with my time, in my home, Targaryean. I do not answer to you.” 

“Who do you answer to, the King in the North? Or considering you were the one to attack me last night, perhaps he’s more merely your guard dog.” If he wanted to rile you up, someone should have informed Aegon that the only thing that could truly have you in such dire straits is the memory of a pale blue eyes attached to a slimy voice that coated your skin in more filth then you knew even now how to wash away. 

Your eyes drifted across his person with only a barley noticeable narrowed of eyes before meeting his, nodding to his chest plate. “Am I the first to carve a dent into that?” 

His jaw twitched in it’s clench, and a condescension rolled from his very aura. “Every great warrior has to start somewhere, doesn’t he?” You could feel the pulsing of the cut along your person he left, as you looked at him, and see once more the rage behind his eyes as he looked to you as nothing more then a monster to abolish from once you came. 

“And yet the only ones the Seven Kingdoms ever speak of are your own kin. Strange how only greatness comes from you and none else ever get the chance to prove their worth.” Robb had spent three years winning a war of so many sides falling all onto his shoulders to burden, and he emerged as a great King and yet all any will speak of him is the tragedy stolen from his life. Aegon’s ancestors were all remembered for their victories, and yet your husband lay scattered across the Riverlands and none will remember what led him there in the first place.

Aegon almost smiled though, and you found yourself hating it. Perhaps you were finally understanding Robert so long after his death. “My family is the blood of Old Valyria. We were the great dragonriders who conquered these lands. We are destined for such fates by birthright, by blood-” 

“Your dragons destroyed these lands.” 

He seethed visibly, and you did in your blood and poured from your eyes that he caught himself. All eyes were on you, but enough feet were apart between that no danger was to intervene from but you felt them all the same and could not quell that feeling rising within your chest. And yet, your voice softened to something that he didn’t expect. Something genuine. 

You knew the story too well, and were he true or not to such a claim, it was his family that were the forgotten ones of the rebellion. “I imagine it's difficult for you, being here. Being so close to Kings Landing. It was cruel, and vile what was done to your mother, and your sister too.” It was so well hidden to most not a soul would have caught a waver in his throat. “They didn’t deserve what happened to them, no one does.”

The breathless vitriol was not to blame, and you wouldn’t. “Yet your uncle did nothing to stop it.” 

Robert Baratheon wept no tears and sung no songs for Elia Martell and Rhaenys Targaryean. He saw Elia as a dead Dornish woman to be forgotten, and Rhaenys as nothing but the offspring of what so many years alter was his mortal enemy, but you knew when to defend him and when not too. “Tywin Lannister did all that. Aerys Targaryean opened the gates and he sacked the city, his men did that to your family. Robert cared not about their remains but it was not his order to brutalize and dishonour them like animals. I know too well, no one deserves such fate.” 

If Aegon saw anything in your eyes, he found no capability to bleed sympathy for it, nor did you expect any too. You wanted it to be not your life as well. “And yet you think my father deserved his. No one cared to provide justice for my mother and sister, but you demean me for wishing to find that very thing for my own father.” 

You stared right through him. The question in your mind finally answered. Had Jon Connington ever admitted to Aegon that his father kidnapped Lyanna Stark? Had he admitted he raped her? No. The answer was no. There was not a world you could imagine someone finding a softness over the long deaths of a mother and sister he never knew, but idolized a father who committed such atrocities had he thought they were truth. 

“That is what you think? That true justice is redeeming the image of Rhaegar Targaryean to the very people whose lives he ruined beyond repair?” He swallowed again, and you felt something choking your throat as your eyes refused to blink despite the sting. “That includes you, Aegon. He left you in that city too, under the control of a father he knew would not let your mother and you both leave.” 

Aegon flushed, something uncomfortable in his own lungs scratching away at his defences. “That boy was not me. That was some tanner’s son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died giving birth. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of ale, and Lord Varys gave that boy to my mother, and took me to safety.” 

You didn’t blink, but you did feel for the sorrow to come. “And Rhaegar left you to die in that city with your mother and Rhaenys all the same. Tanner’s son or not, it was you he thought he was abandoning. And that’s the man you wish to be?” He swallowed and a redness almost poked through the colours behind his eyes as something bordering pity and empathy came into you and your voice. “I pray to the old gods and the new that you find it within yourself to become anyone but him. Dragons died for a reason, and it’s better we let it stay that way.”

Walking passed him, you brushed against his shoulder enough the material of your dark cloak ran across the overtly ornate design of his and Aegon didn’t turn to you in the slightest with any other word. You left early to think, and returned with that very thing shoved in your face to overwhelm the rest of it. All you could focus on to stay composed, was to wash off the grime of such a day, and start your work. 

Maybe the rest would leave you alone until you wouldn’t break the second you were faced with that same wonder that stunned you the night before. There were no similarities when you looked at Aegon, but you found fear asking you of looking over to double check in case it was too obvious to ignore upon looking his way, but resisted such an urge. Not here, not in front of all these people. 

You could feel Jon’s grey eyes following you the entire path as you left the Great Hall.

The path down to the level of the beaches was much faster this way. Many winding stairs were a steep but direct path down to the shores, the black stone leading into the dark rocks surrounding the landscape as only but small caverns and overhangs led to the sand surrounding out to the Narrow Sea. 

The climate was much more forgiving as your back current sat against such large rocks that blocked the path and sights around as your hair blew in the winds along with the flowing skirt of your dress as if asking to carry you up and whisk you across the waters to lands unknown. But instead you sat in the quiet as evening sun had begun to set behind you, leaving the skies ahead in a beautiful golden yellow turning almost light shades of a pink. 

Were you on the other side of the island, you would have held the object in your hand up to the setting sun, the books you had been scouring through spoke of dragonglass as being able to see the brightness in the sky without pain. Should you look up at it through what Maesters called obsidian. Instead it sat less shining or reflective in the shard twisted and turned in your hands. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you looked over it, trying to find any reason this was the thing which held answers to the realms foreboding danger. 

The ones being in your home once more brought to you felt nothing but like burdens at the rate this past day had brought. Fire, death, bloodshed, memories of painful pasts trying to force their way onto those not responsible in the present and an overlooking thought which threatened to consume you should you let it toxify in your mind too much. 

You only had a dream. You couldn't rely on that as truth. 

It wasn’t until the sounds of footsteps gently approaching hit your ears did you register that you had been cruel. How would it have felt were it you? He had every right to be angry at you for it, but as he chose to settle on the sands with his back against the rock beside you there wasn’t anger which waved off him. 

For a moment Jons eyes watched as yours did at the water, but not too long passed between until he gently opened his hand out to it. Silently you gave it to him, only then did the strength to look at him find you. Your eyes following as his brought up up to look closely at and yours continued that path to find his face. 

A few smaller scratches sat across his cheek from what you could see at this angle, but all else as you looked at Jon did you find was the same thing you’d always seen looking at him. Nothing hiding inside but the man you love. And you felt more cruel yet a sighing relief at such a fact. 

“Theon told me what you had been doing all day.” 

You nodded before realizing he wasn’t actually looking to see it. Only leaning a bit closer so that you could feel his arm brush against yours as you spoke quiet by his side. “I have some assembling a number of men now, and come morning they will start on the mine we worked on today. The longer it takes us to start, the longer it takes us to get home.” 

Jon ran his thumb over the flat end of the shard, eyes foggy as his voice was rasping at a distance trying to gently murmur your name, but you beat him to it with a heavier heart then you think he suspected. “I’m so sorry.” 

Finally his eyes met yours, the grey in them washing over with something confused but also upsetting in a way. “Sorry? What would you have to be sorry for?” 

Your own were already with a bit of a red sting, and your cracked throat wavered in speech. “Leaving you like that. After...after the night we had and then you wake up alone and I’m gone all day..it was a horrible thing to do. You would’ve never done it to me, I shouldn’t have done it to you.” 

Jon put the shard of Dragonglass down without a second thought, turning to look at you more and it made you feel so much worse at the ease in which the hurt sat in his bright eyes. One of his hands coming up to run along the side of your face until reaching your cheek. “I only want you to tell me what I said or did that you didn’t like next time instead of avoiding me.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as he ran this thumb back and forth over the gentle skin. “Last night, I clearly did something to scare you off. Was I too rough?” He hesitated before swallowing harsh but he looked back into your much more stinging red eyes. “Was it what I said about marrying you?” 

You hadn’t realized you were shaking your head until the motion was urgent, hand flying up to grasp at his and finding yourself pushing the fabric between his sleeve and glove to run your own thumb along his pulse. The other turning to face him more as you shifted more onto your calves, “No, it wasn’t you. You didn’t do or say anything wrong..I just..I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you and later I just..”

“Got carried away?”

You nodded, letting go of his wrist as your own dropped into your lap. A shy glint hiding behind your eyes that caught Jons attention much more. The truth was not far off, but there was a medium you needed to pull him too. “I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m so sorry.” 

But Jon didn’t need anything else, he didn’t want an argument or a detailed answer or even for you to grovel. Instead choosing to pull you into his side, your head finding a home resting against his shoulder as you were leaned into him completely. One of your arms wrapping around his instead of letting him keep it across your back as the other rested along his forearm. Another quieter whisper from your lips passed the air against the wind and waves. “You were perfect, I’m sorry I made you worry you had done anything wrong. I promise it is the opposite.” 

For a good moment it was quiet between the two of you, the world never allowing you such quiet moments together it felt like. Not ones you could enjoy so freely. Never would you have imagined sitting on the shores of Dragonstone with Jon, being free to cuddle into his side with no scare of being caught. It was hard to get used too, being allowed to be seen as his. 

Jon was quiet when he finally spoke, “You don’t have too.” Your brows narrowed in question but didn’t move away from him. “Marry me, I mean. I shouldn’t have said it, I’m not trying to pressure you into it or..” His eyes closed for a moment and the weight was felt mutual between both of you. “I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to replace Robb.” 

If his voice had rasped out quietly, your own whisper was breathless and somehow even quieter after a good minute passed in the winds. “I don’t love one of you more then the other. Robb will always be part of me, and there wasn’t a second I was with him where what we shared wasn’t pure. He deserved to be loved and I wanted to be that for him. But you deserve to be loved as well.” 

Pulling his arm through the gentle hold you had, Jon properly wrapped an arm around you and tugged you right up into his side, your hands drifting across his front. One closer to his waist and the other drifting up and down where you both knew the scars sat. His voice a husk in your ear, “You can keep your name.” A hum left your throat as Jon turned to bury part of his face into your hair like a crutch of muffling support. “You took Robb’s name when you married him. You should keep that. There isn’t much honour in going from a Stark to a Snow.” 

This time you pulled from him with something frustrated in your eyes, and a wide insecurity in his that was softer then he had any right being. But as you sat there, your heart begged and pleaded. He did everything for everyone else, and for once you weren’t going to let him deny something that he never thought he’d have. “I became a Stark when I married Robb, but marrying you means I’m marrying you. You’re a Snow, which would make me one. That’s all there is too it-”

He swallowed harshly, a tear in his voice from years of something he tried to bury. “I can’t ask you to do that. Or make you force that onto our children.” Shaking his head slightly, he fought between pulling away from you and burying his face in your neck but chose to stay quite still, looking out to the waving tides rippling gold across the waters. “I used to be so scared of getting you pregnant. Always fighting how much I wanted to know what being with you would be like, and how much I knew any child we accidentally had, would be a Snow. How much everyone would look down on you for it, hate me for ruining your honour. How much everyone would judge whatever son or daughter we had for what I did to you. That’s why I wasn’t ready that day, why I hesitated. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d be ruining my own child’s life just beacuse I wanted to be with his mother.” 

That day was still vivid for both. You had found fear that was normal for woman, whatever gentle and innocent touches and pleasure you had explored together were nothing compared to the act itself of sex. You were too scared of it at the time, and you hated the idea of disappointing Jon beacuse of it.

“I had a lot other boys didn’t, but it didn’t change that being a bastard was lonely, and miserable. I thought, that's no life for a child. Would always think that whatever children you had deserved so much more.” 

You had never really spoken about it, not so directly, but the panic in your veins of that moment and what you begged of Robb in that anxiety and hurt never left you. It never left you how much your desperation had scared him, and how much you both looked to the other with such love and hope when he assured you. 

“Tell me we’ll love him, our son, tell me that we’ll both be here to love him.” 

The way Robb pulled you into his arms, resting your face soothingly in his neck as his hand ran gently across your then smooth, healthy stomach with a son named Ned. 

“We will love him, together. It’s not just you and me now. It’s us. All three of is, now and always. 

Your own voice cracked and it caught Jon’s attention, the sting in his eyes whipping over to yours as you now were the one looking to the sea. “When I finally told Robb I was pregnant-” 

“Finally?” You turned to him slightly and he pushed passed the water in your eyes to as, “You said when you finally told him. You kept it a secret?” 

Nodding, you wiped at the tears. Fruitlessly knowing more would fall in their place. “We were deep in the Westlands, marching onto Harrenhal, Theon had betrayed us..Catelyn had went behind our backs and released Jaime Lannister,” 

You continued on, but that was simply one more tidbit of a story Jon knew not a thing about. A memory that did come to him though, was the only time he’d ever spoken to him. At the time, he thought he was being mocked. Speaking to him like a boy who knew nothing of the world and that he was a fool for taking the black. But he also had mentioned you. 

Telling him he hoped Jon had gotten a “Nice, good pretty eyeful of her while you still have the chance. Beyond the reach of the law once you swear your vows, right? Do one last dishonourable thing with such a pretty girl before you never can again.” 

Turning to look intently at you, he did briefly feel shame thinking how beautiful you looked with tears running down your cheeks. Letting yourself express your heart so painfully when alone with him in ways you so rarely ever let yourself even feel. “I was so scared he was going to be mad. That I was adding one more thing onto his shoulders but then I told him..and for the first time in a very long time..I finally felt like home. I felt like I found something I truly wanted.”

But he knew, you didn’t just look shocked that day these visions collided at the same instance, you almost looked devastated. “All I could think of was, how much I didn’t want our child to ever grow up the way you were forced to. That no matter where we were or what our lives looked like, I wanted our son to have Robb and I there for him, to know he was always loved no matter what.” You inhaled shakily before finally coming to what was caught in your throat. “You never had to be called a Stark for me to love you, and me being a Snow, our children being a Snow doesn’t change that. We’ll love them together, and that’s what matters. Anyone else has a problem with their name, we could always throw them off the top of the wall.” 

Jon actually laughed, a bright charming smile as he laughed deeply. You had been spending too much time with Tormund.

Turning your face by your cheek to look at him, you found one of your hands reaching to run gently along his facial hair at his jaw in return. Running his thumb along your cheek before his voice came out low but full but in a tint of playfulness, “Don’t imagine Stannis and Selyse are going to be very happy having their grandchild be called Snow.” 

Leaning so your breathe would dance along his skin as you spoke, you moved the touch on his jaw to run light as a feather across his bottom lip with a breathy laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve never done anything that’s made them happy before, no reason to start trying now.” 

Jon shook his head, but was the one to pull you into a kiss first anyways. Cupping the back of your head as it almost instantly was more heated then the tears on your cheeks would ask for. Only pulling from your lips long enough to murmur against them with a chuckle, “We are a mess, aren’t we?” You breathily laughed into him back, letting him return right back to kissing you deep enough you had to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep from falling back. 

Wrapping an arm around you, Jon beckoned you to stand up with him. Only giving perhaps half a second for you to keep steady on two feet before that arm moved to your hip, and his other hand slid to hold you partially by your jaw and neck as he pushed you into the rocks behind.  

Crowding you in an instant his kiss deepened, already leaving you feeling breathless and lightheaded against him. His lips were always so utterly soft and yet they also were so rough with you, leaving a tingling against them as he bit at your bottom lip before kissing you deep once more. Your hands slid up his chest and wrapped gently behind his neck. His tongue gently running across your lips and yet as you went to grant him permission, Jon pulled back enough to bite your lip to pull a gasp. 

Only sliding his tongue into your mouth as you did so, the hand on your neck tilting you up to surrender to him. Tongue brushing with yours and hand pulling your hip more as he pressed his hips into you. He swallowed the whine with a growl as you felt him harden beneath the layers. Jon pulled more and more whines into his mouth from you, kissing you rougher and deeper every instance after he would grind his covered cock into you harsher. The hand on your neck moving down, reaching to your other hip and almost shifting you both to be at his mercy. 

Slightly now leaning over you against the rocks behind, your hips pressed into the front of his as he pulled back from your lips. Red and swollen as his eyes black scouring the bite marks he left against your own lips. Consuming you with his dark, unmoving eyes as he knew you were growing more wet under the simple layers of your dress. One hand pressed beside your head as he leaned in, his cock twitching against you as he grew harder and harder every rut. 

His voice rasped deep and sultry as his eyes looked sharp and narrowed down at you, “Always loose my mind with I’m with you..” Leaning more so his lips brushed against yours but still stared you down, his strength alone enough you couldn’t move away from him if you tried. If the twitch of his cock spoke anything, he enjoyed that you looked almost on the air of intimidated, only able to breathlessly gaze up at him in a needy awe as you burned the more he grinded his hard, covered cock against you. “I get anywhere near you,” The hand on your hip grasped the skirt of your dress as you whimpered at the force and yanked it up almost exposing you entirely were Jon not right against you, “All I can think of is how I shouldn’t have any duties that aren’t burying my cock deep inside you.” 

You knew Robb said things like that to be vulgar, to tease how weak it made you. But you shivered at the darkness in Jon’s eyes, and how he almost barely seemed to register he said anything. That all this only spilled out of his mouth not to rile you up, but beacuse it was so deep in his brain that it came out on instinct. It didn’t used to be this intense between you, but all your brain told you to do was submit. 

Submit like a good mate and let your White Wolf do whatever he wanted, but there was something else still hiding in your mind. Something that knew he’d never ask for it again. He never asked in the first place, but you desperately wanted to give back. Make Jon feel good beacuse he deserved to. 

So your hands at his chest gently pushed him back. Not enough to move him or to even give you much in the way of room. But enough to press a light kiss to his lips and a tender loving one on his neck as you whispered, letting your hands run down his chest. “I want to make you feel good first.” 

His face twisted slightly as if not realizing what you meant as he rasped, “You always make me feel good, darling.” But that wasn’t what you meant, and Jon only grasped it as he muttered a very light, almost inaudible, “..fuck..” as you so gently and almost with a pure and innocent softness bright in your eyes, let him keep you pressed tight against the rocks as you dropped to your knees.

Jon swallowed harshly, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up to the sky as if pleading for mercy as you ran your hands so gently along his thighs and hips like a massage. Not moving at all to pull him out until he looked back down at you, that same plead silently asking you to get up for him but you stayed kneeled. “Jon,” His hand ran along the sides of your hair, “Please, will you let me make you feel good? Can I suck your cock?” 

Inhaling deeply, Jon’s jaw clenching so tight he ran hand along your hair now cupping the back of your head, he seemed to not risk anything, saying nothing. Only nodding yes, as he raked along your hair as you so carefully moved. Only giving enough room to pull his cock out as it already sat hard, red and leaking cum. Gently, you licked almost like a kitten at the thickness along him, before running your tongue and lips down the length of his cock with as much gentle touch a you did everything else. 

Something burned in your chest, desperate to just show him a pleasure he always deserves but so rarely ever let himself have. Slowly letting your tongue brush the length of his cock before licking his tip once more. Eyes sliding shut as you slowly took him into your mouth, a deep grunt trapped in his chest trying not to lose it. Ever so slowly, you let the saliva build up in your mouth as you took him inch by inch, your hands flexing as you held by his hips. 

You almost had no choice but to take him deep, so little room was behind you including his hand in your hair. Jon was breathing heavily above you to keep collected and feeling like he wasn’t succeeding. A low hum in your throat vibrated against his cock, something that both overwhelmed your senses letting him slide deep into your mouth but truly didn’t want to stop. 

Almost two thirds of the way, you begun to bob your head along him, sucking him as with each slide inside your mouth deep did Jon’s hand on your hair tighten. Not controlling your movements, but almost keeping himself grounded as his muscles tensed. 

He was heavy on your tongue, and your jaw already aching from the stretch but you whined at the feeling of him deep enough that it once more tested your inner panic. Taking the rest of his cock until he reached the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the coarse hair around the base of him you slid almost all the way of his length before smoothly gliding back as deep. Each pull back on his cock you sucked him with your own need making your thighs ache to press together.

There was something about being with you that made Jon feel as if you continued to bring things out in him he never knew would rile him up this much. Being outside, one could come across the two of you, and see their fierce and headstrong Queen so willingly down on her knees before the King in the North. Something perverse in Jon almost found the idea of someone catching you two like this appealing. As if it made him feel ever more turned on, as if he dared anyone to catch you both, fighting the fantasy in his veins if someone did see. 

You wouldn’t even know if someone was watching, not while you were soaking his cock deep in your warm mouth, and he wondered if you two were caught, would Jon even try and pull you off him? 

Or would he let the possessive wolf inside him, force them to watch, knowing that seeing you so eagerly sucking Jon’s thick cock would be the closest any would or could ever get to having you for themselves. Jon knew if he were a worse man, he may have chained and gagged Ramsay and forced him to watch you give everything to Jon that the vile man tried taking violently from you.

Take you apart with every bit of sanity you had left until Jon’s touch was all which would keep you tethered to the earth. And only killing Ramsay once he finished watching Jon take for himself, everything that the man wrongly thought belonged to him. 

If it were possible, the image of getting caught as Jon was slid so deep in your mouth, or just as he came heavily down your sweet, sensitive throat, made him almost throb harder.

He still was trying to stay quiet, couldn’t bury his grunts or growls in your kiss and all he could do was try and not to shove your head right back down to take his entire length. Gritting his teeth as his knuckles turned white gripping your hair, he felt himself clawing closer and closer to the end. 

You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth, and you only felt both the desperate beg inside to give you a moment to breathe but also finding yourself more eager to help coax him to that end. Wanting him to feel good the way he always insisted doing for you instead. 

Murmuring your name, Jon was trying to pull you off his cock and through a rough husking tone he hissed out as your mouth soaked him, “You- gods you really want me like this, you want me to spill down your throat?” Like he couldn’t comprehend why you would actually want to swallow his cum, the thick, warm seed that you had no logical way of explaining in the moment, that you desperately needed. 

Only, just as Jon begun to call out your name, he throbbed inside your mouth and looked down at you with a clenched jaw breathing heavily. “You’re too good to me. So fucking good, my beautiful girl..you don’t have to do this..I just..fuck, I only need your cunt..” 

But as you took him deeply, you felt him pull your head close to his hips, once again pressed right up against the dark hair around the base of his cock, and this time it was your whimper that did him in. A gentle hold on his hips and a tender moan around him had Jon shake. Spilling deep down your throat with a rasping growl of your name, his hand kept you pressed as deep as he could sink in your mouth but he almost massaged your hair, raking through it more gentle then he had any right being as he fed you all of his thick cock’s seed. 

You moaned and the muffled gag of you trying to swallow all of him, feeling almost more worked up at how good it felt and how wet it made you, to feel him spill so deeply down your throat and into your stomach. 

But he wasn’t done once he pulled you off, no, this time Jon yanked you up to your feet. Shoving you against the wall as he hovered over you, pulling the skirt of your dress up only enough to grasp hold of the thin fabric covering you from him. 

In Jon’s mind he couldn’t hear or see the world around him, only you. And the feeling of your covering soaked did Jon hide his face in your neck. Biting and kissing roughly as he tore the fabric off of you, pressing you into the rocks more when you whined against him. 

One hand moved under the flowing fabric to run his cock along your soaking wet entrance while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you into an urgent kiss. Jon sparing not much time before he sunk his cock as deep as he could. Using his hold to shove you more against the rock, keeping one of your legs bent up and wide as he never pulled any more then a few inches out of you. 

Your insides twisted like a coiling metal ready to snap as Jon kissed you, your own hands unable to do anything but grasp at his shoulders. All but forcing your lips to part so he could slide his tongue in your mouth, Jon begun to thrust up into you, but this wasn’t the slow start he took his time with. 

He kept a hand behind your head keeping you against the mercy of his kiss as the other kept you stretched wide for him as Jon pounded into you. Were the tides and waves not mixing with the covers of wind, someone might have heard the desperate sound of Jon moving to kiss down your neck. Not even with bites, just presses of lips as he felt his heart desperate to just have you close.

Cock pounding into you fast, and somewhat rough especially keeping you on a gasping, pleading edge of his name as the sensitivity of your walls were dragged along once more. Every time his cock was deep you felt no more breathe in your lungs. Hands urgently pulling his hair loose, Jon shifted you up more so you could bury your face between his hair and in his neck and holding onto him tightly with little more then moans. 

He asked nothing of you, only holding you there as he fucked into your soaked cunt almost coating his cock even more with your own wetness that were he to have you alone in a room would have been a beautiful soaking sound each time his hips slapped into yours. 

It looked like nothing more but a desperate, fast and rough fuck but Jon held you and you held him back burying the other to hide close. Jon holding your head close hiding in your hair as he felt you clench around him and only then did he pull back enough. Making you look at him as you were dangled on his cock asking to let you cum, Jon’s eyes less black and more of a needing grey as he whispered roughly and raspily to you, “It’s alright, darling, you can let go. I want you to cum for me, I promise, please cum for me..I need to feel you, I need you so much..” 

Your head only nodded as something close to tears wanted to fall at how raw his voice mixed lust and a gentle need while his cock sped you towards an orgasm and as soon as you gasped, grasping his hair and pleading his name did he find his own end only seconds after your own orgasm snapped bright and flooding passionately within you. Clenching hard around him whimpering his name meekly.

Spilling deeply inside of you as you clenched and soaked his cock, he kept you on him the entire length sunk so deep inside you as he shook against you. Both burying your faces into the others neck and hair until you felt every last bit of his thick, warm cum spill deeply inside. 

Breathing heavily against one another, Jon kissed you gently when you whimpered as he pulled out of your cunt. Your skirt dropping back down to cover you while you gently pulled away from him enough to cover him back up properly as well. 

Still breathing heavily, your hands fell to his waist as Jon’s ran along your hair before tilting you up for a kiss. Not greedy or pushing, but an intimate kiss that spoke of love you had so long had to pretend never existed. Pulling away to press one against your forehead before resting against yours with his until he knew you were calming back down to earth. 

His voice was strained and rough as he spoke quietly through a gentle laugh. “Seven hells..I don’t know what came over me, I'm sorry..” You laughed back more freely, a charming brightness in his eyes as you both laughed against one another much more innocently for the desperate fuck just seconds earlier. 

You ran your hand through his hair, looking up to his bright grey eyes. “Why do I suspect you aren’t actually that sorry?” 

His grin grew brighter, kissing you once more as he whispered playfully against your lips. “Probably beacuse I’m not.” Leaving another kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he tilted you down to leave it there, your hands pressed along his chest before he pulled you into his arms.

If Jon had decided he was sure about one thing, it was what he said after everything was settled the night before. Brewing moontea for you as he had you lay under the sheets to relax, knowing no matter what you claimed of feeling fine, he had gone more rough then he intended. Telling you almost casually, that he wasn’t getting you pregnant for the first time anywhere but his own bed in Winterfell. 

He was however, as the two of you made your way back up to the castle, considering to what degree of uncomfortable a conversation would it be to go back to Maester Pylos so soon. There was no getting around that he was going to know that perhaps Jon had an appetite for you a bit more high and demanding then what the man was expecting on the first request for it.

Jon knew he felt eyes, but had no idea that there had been more then one pair, watching the entire time you had been passionately wrapped up in each other along the isolated shores of Dragonstone. 

One pair of eyes that almost crawled like a spider, but the other was one that none could guess. 

[romchat]

Story of Kunning Palace Ep. 20: To be free like the birds

What I love about good prison scenes is that they often reveal which of our characters are truly free.

For Yan Lin, Jiang Xuening, and Xie Wei, Episode 20 poses the following question: to what extent are we prisoners of the fate we've created for ourselves?

Yan Lin

Ironically, Yan Lin is an actual prisoner but he’s probably the freest of all our characters. He's finally free from his unrequited love of Xuening, free from the politicking of the palace, and, as @tomorrowsdrama beautifully observes, free from the burden of revenge. However he meets Xie Wei next, it won't be as the ruthless man from the story's original timeline who was hellbent on destroying those who had betrayed him.

Despite Xuening's worries, Yan Lin's exile grants him the opportunity to grow into the impressive man he always had the potential to be. @dangermousie used the word irrepressible to describe him and it's such a perfect word that encapsulates Yan Lin's boundless love and spirit. As Yan Lin and his father are taken away to Huangzhou because of their crimes, he shouts to Xie Wei the poem that inspired his courtesy name:

There will come a day when the roc finally goes up against the wind, flying up to the highest sky. I, Yan Hui, will return safely."

He will return as a great general, one who upholds peace in the world.

Jiang Xuening

I think it's a lovely touch how both Yan Lin and Xuening are symbolically represented by birds flying through the sky. Episode 1 kicked off with a bird of prey soaring above Xuening's poor childhood home and descending upon the palace. Young Xuening had always dreamed of escaping her difficult life but found herself in a different type of prison once she entered the palace. Empress Xuening narrates:

"If I knew this would happen, I would not have wasted my life chasing after fame and power. I should have traveled far and wide, to see the vast land and waters, to be free like the birds."

So when Xuening fails to escape the prison after visiting Yan Lin and she encounters an undercover Zhang Zhe, she's also granted a rare freedom: to figure out what she truly wants from life.

In previous episodes, Xuening mused about what it would be like to forsake palace life and be with Zhang Zhe, but at this point, her feelings for him are largely based on their interactions during the original timeline, not the current one. When she suddenly finds herself joining him to infiltrate the rebels, it is both a chance to explore the world beyond the constraints of the palace while also getting closer to him.

As viewers, many of us have been wondering when Xuening will realize her feelings for Xie Wei and abandon her pursuit of Zhang Zhe. And I think that shift will happen soon. Look at how dark, almost sinister, it looked when the doors of the prison were opened and they began their journey to the rebel hideout. Together, Xuening and Zhang Zhe are embarking on a dangerous adventure that will most likely illuminate just how ill-matched they are.

Xie Wei

Up until this point, everything has gone according to plan for Xie Wei. Like he fine-tunes his qin, he has fine-tuned his revenge plot against the Xue Family to perfection. Ruthless and methodical, he is the puppet master of everyone's fate.

But what I've found so tragic about Xie Wei's character is that even with all the power he has amassed, he still lives within the confines of a prison he has created for himself. Like he had sacrificed himself to save the Crown Prince and those 300 other children when he was a boy, he is now sacrificing his goodness and true sense of self to execute his revenge. "I am not a good person", he warns Xuening over and over again--and he isn't, not really (despite some evidence to the contrary).

Which makes his willingness to reconsider his plans to save Xuening even more incredible. Look at the simmering panic on his face. He warned her never to tell others who she has in her heart, and yet here he is, allowing his carefully crafted plans--the one thing that defines him-- to unravel as he makes plans to leave the palace to go after her.

[miss-choi-park]

Sin never tasted so...

Chapter 2 - Regretful acts

A TXT Yeonjun Fanfiction from Mrs. Choi-Park

CEO/non-idol/dom/bully!Yeonjun! / Confident/sub/named/fem!Reader!

Previous Chapter:

[...]Suddenly someone grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back violently. Immediately afterwards I noticed the corner of the old wooden reception desk on my lower back. Startled, I looked up and was greeted by Yeonjun's sharp eyes. I knew that Yeonjun was significantly taller than me, but he was just so close to me that I had to look up high. His hands firmly on my hips, holding me close to the reception.

"What the hell-"

"Funny...I'm pretty horny right now." He murmured and I saw his eyes suddenly darken. That sent a shiver down my spine.

Warnings under the cut

Warnings: sex, rough language, sex language, they kinda hate each other - but it's consensual, kissing, naked touching?- I dont know, what else😅

Please remember that I fully respect the privacy of all K-Pop Idols and that this is just a fantasy. It's not my intention to harm anyone! (I've been a MOA since March 2023)

"Fuck! Find another sex toy, you pervert!" I protested loudly. Shortly afterwards one of his hands found itself over my mouth. His face came a little closer to me.

"Shut up." He demanded as one of his knees found its way between my legs. His thigh pressed against my middle and I stood on tiptoes to avoid the strange feeling rising inside me.

My heart began to pound faster against my chest. I think it was adrenaline, but whether it was from Yeonjun's thigh on my middle or that I was just afraid, I couldn't quite decipher it. Maybe this would have been easier for me if I hadn't been drunk…

Unfortunately, my body didn't do anything to defend itself. My hands just rested against his chest.

"Damn!" Yeonjun growled as his hand fell from my mouth again. His forehead fell against mine as he let out a deep breath.

"Admit it...you've thought about it too." Yeonjun whispered, his voice four octaves lower and a small hum within it.

I closed my eyes as my heels sank.

Slowly I sank more and more onto Yeonjun's thighs. What the hell am I doing here?!

No...I had never thought about it...but why? -Yes Yeonjun had something! I could never blame the girls who fell for him, he was handsome…had a good body, if it weren't for his character I might have thought about it - but it was wrong. Thinking about it was wrong!

Without another word, Yeonjun's breath danced over my lips and a fire lit inside me. Now I could say with some certainty that I wasn't afraid, but that the adrenaline was coming from somewhere else. Somewhere deeper inside me.

Then...his lips on mine. Warm, full but demanding, he immediately shamelessly took advantage of the little startled noise that escaped me to slide his tongue into my mouth.

I clenched my fists as a strange feeling spread through me. I knew it was wrong, forbidden even. Our families were declared enemies.

We didn't even like each other, but then why did I feel this way?!

Without thinking about it any further, I let myself get involved with him. His tongue dominantly explored every millimeter of my mouth. The little breaks we took to breathe were marked by nibbling on my lower lip. I noticed Yeonjun's desire. A dark desire that I would for 100% regret tomorrow, but it was far too exciting...far too good to think about regret now.

I was excited for more.

Yeonjun grabbed my butt and finally pulled me away from the reception after I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled away from me again and I opened my eyes. Our eyes locked for a few seconds before he let out a defeated gasp and threw his lips back onto mine. Our kisses were anything but slow or emotional, they were wild, wet, messy and poisoned - but so good, so forbidden good, so exiting good.

I ran my fingers up his neck, into his dark hair and clawed my way into it. Probably the hottest grumblin I had ever heard escaped Yeonjun. He started moving shortly afterwards. He drove me in front of him, not breaking the kiss for a second, in which he clearly had the upper hand.

I didn't know where we were going, but I didn't really care. When I felt something in my back, I didn't even bother to think about what it was.

Yeonjun separated from me shortly afterwards and in the next moment he had picked me up and pushed me against the wall that seemed to be behind me. Our pelvises collided and I had to swallow a louder moan down my throat. I immediately wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled the hard bulge in his jeans tight against my middel. Now I was definitely horny, too.

It was dangerous. I was clearly testing my limits here, but the feeling inside me flooded my body like a fire. I just couldn't resist.

Yeonjun's lips on mine felt heavenly, intense and so demanding. He knew how to kiss. Even by doing something as simple as kissing he clearly played his role as dominant. What it would be like once we were in bed?!

Hell I wanted him! I wanted him to be dominant and I wanted him to control my body like he wanted to.

The wall behind me suddenly moved and I pulled away from Yeonjun, a little startled. A look around me told me that he was carrying me into the elevator that had opened behind me. Then the thought of the bed wasn't so far away, I guess.

"Fuck, I want to fuck you right here." Yeonjun whispered as he pushed me against the mirror in the elevator. I seemed to be a feather for him.

I ran my hands through his hair further: "Where's your room?"

"Not far." He grumbled and turned away from me briefly to press a button in the elevator.

I pulled my legs a little tighter as he only carried me with one hand.

When the doors closed behind Yeonjun and the elevator started moving, his second hand found my ass again and he began to roll his pelvis against mine. I allowed myself to moan.

"Hell is that hot!" Yeonjun whispered, his mouth beginning to leave a wet trail of kisses over my sensitive neck. The mix of tickle and excitement emanating from my neck drove me insane.

His hot breath almost threatened to burn me. Did he also felt a fire just like I felt mine?

We both ate from the forbidden fruit and it felt so good to not do the right thing, to not think about the fact that we should hate each other or what would happen and just let ourselves fall into the sea of pure lust and desire.

It didn't take long until the elevator doors opened again. Until then I was a moaning mess.

"You have to be quiet for a moment, I don't want anyone to hear what's meant for me, can you do that?" Yeonjun whispered, probably leaving a few marks on my neck. I nodded quickly and closed my mouth. The movements of his pelvis were just too good to be true. "Good girl.", Yeonjun muttered and then sadly dropped me to the ground, "Come with me!"

I couldn't wait to get to his room. Yeonjun made sure to stay behind me, as if he was afraid I would run away now.

I heard the sound of a zipper behind me and turned around.

Yeonjun's eyes were fixated on me, like I was his prey that he wasn't willing to give up on. He was taking off his thick ski jacket as he licked his lips.

"Stop!" He ordered and I did what he said immediately. Just like a doll...really what was wrong with me?!

Yeonjun pulled his small wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and quickly fumbled for his key card.

His hand reached for mine as he pulled me into the room in a split second and slammed the door behind us. The jacket he had just taken off in the hallway flew into some corner, as he caught me between him and the door again. My arms flew around his neck as our lips touched again.

I still had my ski jacket on, which Yeonjun immediately took care of when I returned the kiss.

My pulse was racing, my hands were shaking and my skin crackled as if small electric shocks were traveling through my whole body. Yeonjun tasted amazing. I swear I could taste honey on the tip of his tongue, his breath, which smelled like beer, further clouded my senses.

Before I knew it, my jacket was off and Yeonjun's fingers were already under my sweater and undershirt.

While I lost myself in our kiss, Yeonjun who was a little less stormy than before, picked me up again but instead of pushing me against the door he immediately turned around and started walking.

It didn't even take five seconds before he leaned over and let go of me. I was welcomed by a comfortable mattress.

"Arms up!" He grumbled and I immediately did. The next moment my pulli and undershirt were pulled over my head and thrown into some corner. Yeonjun's hands found under my knees and lifted them to my chest so that he could also climb onto the mattress between my legs.

Then his hands...I thought I had never reacted like that to a simple touch before, but I did. His fingers sliding over my bare waist were the hottest thing I've ever felt.

His rather cold fingers were like fuel to my fire. I was afraid that my bottom lip would start to bleed as hard as I bit down on it.

"We're alone, you can be loud now." Yeonjun murmured with a small smile on his lips.

“Shit Yeonjun!” I moaned as his hands reached under my bra.

"Your body is really fucking good!" Yeonjun said clearly before he licked his lips and gave me a kiss right on my stomach where my bra started.

My hands immediately found their way into his hair to hold him there.

Why the hell were his touches so incredibly good?!

"You know there's no turning back now, potato?" He whispered and I looked down at him.

"Do not call me that!" I grumbled but immediately had to bite my lip again, when I felt his hard bulge against my core again.

"I'll call you whatever I want." Yeonjun whispered as his hands found their way behind my back. I also helped him up to my bra clasp by lifting my back. He raised his head next to mine.

"I want you to be loud, scream my name!" He whispered in my ear and soon licked the outside of it, which I was afraid of losing as hot as it just got. My bra lost its hold.

Yeonjun's hands quickly found their way to my shoulders, where they brushed down the straps of my bra.

"Be a good girl and say the name that makes you feel good." Yeonjun growled, still in my ear as I helped him take my bra off completely by pulling my hands out of his hair. My underpants were no longer just damp but completely soaked at this moment.

“Yeo…Yeonjun!” I complied his request. It was surprisingly easy to moan his name.

As a present one of his hands cupped the outside of my breast. "Fuck!" Yeonjun suddenly groaned and sat up abruptly, I lost the touch of his electrifying fingers.

Only the light from the large window illuminated the room. That soon changed. The room suddenly lit up and I saw Yeonjun pulling his t-shirt over his head. His black undershirt followed immediately. The small floor lamp on the night table wasn't exactly bright, but at least bright enough to emphasize the contours of Yeonjun's upper body. I had to swallow.

Of course I knew he had a good body...but seeing him in this sexual context made my mouth water. The small silver chain around his neck didn't help either.

"I don't want to wait any more!" Was the last I heard from him before he took off my pants in one quick movement.

I remained a little surprised on the mattress when Yeonjun stood up and also took off his pants. Immediately afterwards he climbed back onto the mattress, without me having the chance to see anything.

I jumped violently when I felt his fingers on my center.

“Great, you seem wet enough." He murmured, while I didn't really know where to go. Or where to put my thoughts. I seemed completely dumb.

"Sorry little one, but there won't be foreplay tonight." He said simply before he pushed my underwear aside and pulled down his boxer shorts. I didn't see much, but I felt enough.

Something large was pressing against my entrance.

“Yeonjun wait, I wait-”

The most pornographic moan of my life escaped me. Unfortunately it wasn't triggered by pleasure but by pain when his tip entered me.

"Fuck wait!" I heard him say. Shortly afterwards I felt nothing anymore. Everything tightened inside me as the pain disappeared into a sharp ache.

"Condom..." Yeonjun mumbled as I lifted my head slightly.

Shit! I didn't think it would actually hurt that much.

Yeonjun rummaged through his bedside drawer.

"Wait, I brought some with me somewhere." He said and I raised myself up on my forearms.

As he searched, I realized that this would be my first time.

"Yeonjun?" I asked with a shaky voice.

"Damn, where are those things?" He growled to himself before switching sides of the bed and looking in the other bedside drawer.

"Yeonjun?"

"Ha! Got them!" he exclaimed happily, pulling out a chain of at least five condoms from the bedside table.

"Yeonjun?!" I asked forcefully as he sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me and his eyes and hands fixated at his core.

"Hm?" He replied and I sat up. Now we sat back to back.

"I...want to say something before-Ah!"

Without letting me finish, Yeonjun pulled me back onto the mattress by my shoulders.

"Potato, there's no backing out now. Just let it happen." Yeonjun pointed out and climbed over me again.

"No, that's not it." I replied as Yeonjun was about to take off my panties completely.

"Shhh, no matter what it is, it won't make me stop."

He positioned himself between my legs again and I swallowed.

Now or never!: "I'm still a virgin."

Yeonjun froze in his tracks. His eyes caught mine: "What?"

I looked away and covered my face with my arm.

"I just...just be careful, it hurts." I meant. Then silence.

"You know this is turning me on even more." he said and I removed my arm from my eyes to look at him. Yeonjun actually smiled genuinely at me. There was not a hint of sarcasm in his smile. It was pure and innocent. I had never seen him smile so honestly.

"Okay fine, I'll go slow. But this will be the last nice gesture on my part." He murmured and before I could reply, I felt him at my entrance again.

Slowly I felt him slide into me. I held my breath as the pain returned. I could feel the layer of wet latex around him, which I was somewhat relieved to feel.

"I thought you had a boyfriend?" Yeonjun wanted to know. Maybe he was trying to distract me from the pain, but I was just frozen.

Suddenly I felt his hot breath on my left breast and I looked at him.

"Try to concentrate on something else." Yeonjun whispered, immediately taking my nipple into his mouth. My pent-up breath escaped me suddenly.

Okay Sumi, relax! If you tense up like that, it won't get any better.

My fingers found their way back into Yeonjun's hair as he steadily pushed into me. Slowly but decisively.

Even though the pain had the upper hand and sliced me like a sharp knife, I noticed something different. A different feeling. Deep inside.

"Mmh~", Yeonjun grumbled, who briefly let my nipple out of his mouth, "But at least your insides are reacting damn well."

"What?!" our eyes locked.

"Does it hurt a lot? Can you handle the same length again?" He asked, stopping his movements.

Like...he was only half inside me?! I already felt more than full.

His fingers pushed a strand of hair out of my face: "I told you I'm big..."

I couldn't help but giggle at this statement.

Yeonjun took advantage of this to sink deeper and suck the air out of my lungs again.

"Fuck!" I cursed, perhaps clutching his hair a little too hard.

"Almost done, little one. Just a bit."

He should keep his word. The last inches entered me and I felt the skin of his pelvis on my inner thighs.

To be honest, I couldn't quite decide where to feel it. Above all...I felt him everywhere.

"Well done!" Yeonjun muttered. His hair tickled my breastbone as he lowered his head and breathed deeply.

He stayed very still, not a single muscle moving and I had time to get used to him. The pain quickly turned into a throb and I was finally able to think clearly again.

It was obvious that Yeonjun was holding back. He briefly let his forehead fall over my breasts and tried to control his breathing.

My eyes wandered over his black hair, the only thing I saw of him. He had his forearms resting next to my shoulders, holding himself up above me.

I swallowed the last stray of pain and then let my legs wrap around his waist. His gaze lifted.

We looked at each other for a moment before I took his face in both hands and squeezed his cheeks together, making his mouth pout.

I smiled at him: "Thank you, it doesn't hurt anymore."

His eyes widened and I let go of his face.

"Then I'll move!" Yeonjun murmured and I immediately felt him slowly pulling out of me.

I took a deep breath as I broke our eye contact and stared at the ceiling.

Please don't hurt again…please!

I was afraid that the pain might come back, but that thought quickly disappeared when I felt Yeonjun's finger on my clit.

The first moan escaped me after the pain, which had its origin in pleasure. His index finger ran circles around my little bundle of nerves, which was quickly growing.

Immediately afterwards his hips shot back and the feeling I had felt in the elevator took over again.

Warm, longing...good.

Fuck! The feeling was good.

Just then, Yeonjun built up a slow but deep rhythm. I began to moan as my nails dug into his neck.

"My name...moan it!" I heard him say as the warmth of his body disappeared from me. I opened my eyes a crack and saw that he had sat up straight, his gaze fixed on the point where he disappeared into me. And suddenly I was glad I shaped myself just yesterday. His speed picked up as he seemed sure that my noises were genuine.

The sharp eyes that usually made me feel hate found mine as his finger disappeared from my clit. His eyes sent shivers down my spine that gave me goosebumps.

“Yeonjuuuuhn!” I dragged out his name as he lifted my lower back and pulled it onto his lap. Then...something that made me see stars. Again and again. The feeling was so strong and good that my insides twisted. Was that my G-spot?!

He touched it over and over again, deep inside me, in that position.

I clutched my hands into the blanket beneath me.

"Fuck! Damn- that...mhh!", I heard Yeonjun grumble and I raised my gaze to him, "That's good! -Hah-...Shit!"

His eyes were narrowed into a slit, his fingers curled into my thighs to keep me as close as possible as he got faster with each thrust. Muscles flexing with every move.

"Yeonjun! Ah- I-ahamh..." I couldn't finish or react so quickly before I felt his lips on mine.

The kiss was stormy. He was demanding something I wasn't sure I could give him. We muffled each other's sounds until we separated.

I couldn't think anymore, I no longer felt able to say anything. I only felt him. Just him.

Yeonjun's tip hitting my G-spot again and again, my wetness running down my butt, Yeonjun's body heat, his speed, his quiet but steady moans and grumbles, the tips of his hair wrapped around my fingers... I felt him... only him and I let myself fall, just chasing the feeling inside me. I repeated his name like a mantra as one of his hands found my right nipple and started playing with it.

Something tickled and squeezed my stomach from the inside, then...a sudden spread of this feeling throughout my entire body. Followed by a loud moan. Everything tightened inside me. Everything tensed up. Everything let go...I lost myself in the feeling.

"Fuck! Shit! I-ahhh!" I heard Yeonjun groan shortly after the feeling slowly faded from me.

His pelvis stopped deeper inside me than before. Yeonjun's body tensed again and again as his breath hitched.

Did he cum?

More importantly...did I cum?

Is that what it feels like? Was it so liberating?

Yeonjun caught my attention as he pulled out of me, completely.

"Oh God...that was good!" He snorted as our eyes caught each other. Our breathing uneven as we just looked at each other and didn't move for a few moments.

Now it came... what I was afraid of.

The regret.

Yeonjun has been the one making my life difficult...why was I in bed with him?!

Suddenly I felt so exposed that I just wanted to get out of here or sink into the mattress.

Yeonjun didn't seem to mind as he sat up and swallowed.

"Uhm..." He started and I sat up too.

"Just…don't say anything." I said as I slid away from him and stood up on the other side of the bed.

I would regret that my whole life...what if my father found out!?

No one was ever allowed to know about this.

"I swear, if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll kick your ass so hard you'll find yourself on moon." I hissed at him as I frantically pulled on my undershirt and sweater.

Yeonjun just sat on the bed as I went to his side of the bed to put on my panties and Jeans.

Faster than he could see, I was dressed again and had collected everything else that belonged to me.

"Do you just want to leave now?" Yeonjun finally noticed as I went to the door.

"Yes!" I said clearly, ripped the door open, stormed into the hallway and slammed the door behind me.

*

A knock on my door woke me from my sleep. Still half in dreamland I turned around facing the door.

"Sumi? Darling, are you awake yet?" I heard my mother's familiar voice behind the door. I sighed in defeat before throwing the blanket off of me. I swung my legs out of bed and sat up. My legs felt like I did a workout yesterday. I shuffled shakily to the door, squinting my eyes at the sore feeling between my legs.

Damn idiot! I cursed to myself, just like yesterday when I arrived in my room at night.

It's your own damn fault that everything hurts now! Why are you giving your first time to an asshole like that anyway?

I opened the door with my hair probably completely disheveled and my eyes puffy. The smile on my mother's face disappeared as she looked at me closer.

"Seemed like the party were hard yesterday. Are you okay?" She asked and I just winked at her before turning around and walking back into the room. I immediately snuggled back under my blanket as my mother entered my room and closed the door behind her.

"Is that a no? Do you need anything?" She asked carefully and I just gave a long grumble.

I was actually fine, except for the feeling between my legs, which reminded me mercilessly of the worst night of my life. Which was yesterday…

The first time should be something special... and what did I do? Gave it to someone I don't even like.

I noticed my mother sitting on the foot of my bed.

"I just wanted to tell you that your father and I have already had breakfast and are now heading to the slopes. You don't have to ski today if you don't want to." She said and I looked at her.

"Thanks, I think I'll just stay here today." I replied.

My mother smiles: "All day? You have to eat something, too, darling."

"I'll do it." I mumbled and mom nodded.

"OK then, see you later," she said and got up, "But you have to come back tomorrow, otherwise your weekly ski ticket would be useless."

"Hm..."

Then silence until I heard the door open and close again. Now I opened my eyes fully and stared at the drawn curtains. I didn't have the heart to look at my mother for long after what I did yesterday.

I knew it was wrong...why didn't I end things right away?! I took a deep breath before rolling onto my back. Should I blame it on the alcohol that had knocked out my senses yesterday, or...what else?

I ignored the fact that I wasn't even fully drunk yesterday.

Read on Wattpad

Next Chapter

[strawberryjamsara]

Sara and Kanna

Your Turn To Die has a lot of relationships that are important to the story, but one that goes ignored in many instances is Sara and Kanna

It’s odd, because their relationship plays such a juxtapositional role in the story. It’s highlighted constantly and it plays a role in one of the most important decisions in the game. So this is a post trying to look at their relationship and dissect it.

So, I’m going to start with the point the game shoves in your face. Sara reminds Kanna of her sister. Though, that can be complicated. Since we learn in Kannas backstory that Kugie wasn’t always perfect. And Sara is not perfect to Kanna.

I am not trying to condemn Sara or Kanna with this. But I think Kugie taught Kanna an important lesson: people are always capable of becoming more kind. And sure enough, after this interaction, Sara treats Kanna with kindness.

… Though you still have the option to be mean.

We’ll put a pin in why I think these options exist, but for now let’s focus on Kanna.

Kanna still cares about Sara regardless of your choices. She still thinks of her as a sister. And regardless of her choices… she takes the sacrifice from Sara and she says this.

Now this is not the truth of the situation. Sara was not reluctant to give away the sacrifice because of kindness. If you have the tokens for it, she’ll immediately rush to find her wallet for a trade, and if not, she’ll try to loot the corpse of her dead friend. But Kanna has this idea because… put simply she idolizes Sara.

Kanna has been working with Sou, and Kanna isn’t stupid. She knows he’s the groups villain. But Sara is different. Sara is the kind leader of the group, and she’s helped Kanna explore, she’s held Kanna’s hand, and she’s so protective! Just like her big sister…

In the end, Kanna has Sara high up on a pedestal marked “Kugie” and doesn’t even realize it. While Sara and Kanna want to reach out and connect to each other, it’s something that (at least until emotion route) is strained by the hole in Kanna that Kugie left. Even Mishima in the beginning asked Sara to fulfill this role and it was yet another thing she felt she had to live up to while Joe was given the role of younger brother. It’s played as a joke but it speaks a lot to how these two are treated in the story. Joe is underestimated in his intelligence and Sara is given the responsibility

And if you play logic route… that’s it. Kanna goes out with a hug for Sara, accepting that she’s deemed her life useless. The sister who she’s fine with killing her. A twisted reflection of Kugie.

Anyways I’m gonna talk about Sara and Kannas parallels now.

So, Sara and Kanna both feel a sense of duty and responsibility towards the others. We see Kannas need to be useful to others as far back as her backstory, where she never let herself act sad for the sake of her adoptive family. Though it echoes within the game as well.

Sara’s backstory is something the player is given a lot more pieces to put together for themselves at this stage of the game, but we do know things. We know she gets anxious when she isn’t studying for school, and that bad grades make her nervous, that she wanted to change the way she acted before she met Joe because it wasn’t like how most teens acted, that she’s avoidant of conflict, and that even before the death game, she had a sense of duty to others that was magnified

From this we can glean Sara, like Kanna, has a sense of responsibility that’s followed her for a lot of her life (most likely exacerbated by Meister but besides the point, I guess you could add points that Meister is not her biological dad, but I feel like that’s paper thin and I don’t think Kannas parents were the problem in her life, I think most likely she came from the Asunaro orphanage and that’s where the issues came from side tangent over.) she’s afraid of stepping on others toes, she doesn’t want to make herself a nuisance, she has to be strong hardworking and useful, a normal good kid, the best kid in the world, and she has to be capable enough to make others like her.

It echoes startlingly close to Kannas ideology. The two of them are awfully alike. Now let’s go back to that screenshot from earlier. When Kanna is berating herself for not being useful, Sara tells her to reflect. The option there, appears to be Sara reflecting her own thoughts about herself onto Kanna (and possibly echoing her dads words… I hate Mr Chidouin.)

We also have another parallel in these two with… the men they stick around

Keiji and Sara and Shin and Kannas relationship has been pointed to as a parallel constantly and I’m nowhere close to the first person to make this observation.

Many people point to the parallels Keiji and Shin have with each other. They took a girl under their wing for the sake of manipulation but began to grow a familial relationship and grew as a person but let’s look at Kanna and Sara’s parallels.

In ways, Keiji and Shin were both “Teachers” to Kanna and Sara in negative ways. Although they did come to care about them, there were things passed down that did the damage by the time it was too late.

Keiji’s is obvious. Sara’s role as leader and hallucinations. Keiji trying to prop her up as one led to her crippling guilt over Joe, and that lead to hallucinations and a need to keep going. Keiji asked to make her leader and now she is one, and he can’t stop it.

Shin also passed down things to Kanna. If you need any proof whatsoever look at the second main game. Shin calls her useless the entire time, and she ends it trying to sacrifice herself for being useless. Not only does she use that argument, but one of logic vs emotion. Shin, despite being an emotional person, has been using logic this game. Despite his breakdown in chapter 1 being fueled by emotion he is making arguments that appeal to a sense of logic: “don’t you doubt when others are kind?” Etc. etc. and he emotionally distances himself from her seen post dream sequence in 2-2. Kanna at the end of the main game is a more cynical person, thanks to Shin.

Despite the harm caused, both girls are willing to die for these people, Kanna in the main game, and Sara when she signs the Asunaro vow on the vaguest chance she could save Keiji. Their self sacrificial tendencies come in fourfold for these two, even when they, by all accounts shouldn’t.

I’m going to close off this analysis with a scene from emotion route.

This scene, I think, is a nice resolution to Sara and Kannas conflict. While they do have later scenes together (the lantern is very cute with them) I think this is a very good moment. Kanna sees Sara in a moment of weakness, vulnerable, and then, she does something to recall what Sara has done. Not Kugie. Sara. Kanna has acknowledged that she loves and cares about Sara’s actions and from there, they can take the steps forward.

[cosmic-d1ce]

"He cares that somewhere, there's a person who used to have friends and a family and a nice little house that he made with his own hands."

ha. hahaha. hahahahahagha.v.v..vm what if I just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA STOP REMINDING ME THAT PHIL HERE USED TO B E JUST LIKE THE REST OF THE ISLAND 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。 THE PAINNNNN

etoiles here is genuinely a complete ray of sunshine here, and the part about not being able to hold a weapon but being able to hold pomme ? being able to mentally keep who he used to be alive within the stories shared to their youth about his past and explorations over the years in such a lively way that brings joy to the kids whenever they get to hear more 'dad lore' / 'tio lore' 😭😭 and passing down his way of combat to them !!!!!!! actual pain and agony !!!!!!! he is such a skilled marksman and so will these kids be in his image after that aspect of his was taken away !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and omg the little section of him dismissing others claims towards phil and gathering information himself aaaaaa

and oh my god. oh my god you didn't. 'in another life' lines are my weakness and I felt genuine pain in reading that end section about etoiles in a way mourning the life he knows that they could've had together had things been different and using those feelings of yearning to make a difference in the life they have right Now and he makes things Better ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ genuinely such a good person and it brings me much joy and pain aaaaaaaaa codebreakers are legit everything to meeeeeee

FML!Etoiles means the world to me I'd die for him

He comes in and is exactly what Phil needs to feel better. Etoiles is there for him as soon as they have their first conversation. He knows, like an instinct, that him and Phil are meant to be friends, they were going to be best friends no matter what

And when everyone does eventually find out, he is the first one to call everyone idiots for not realising. Finally, he gets to take out all of his built up rage about what Forever has done. He gets to take Phil from Forever for the last time.

It took far too long but at least it happened.

When Phil gets worried about Missa and Chayanne, he goes to Etoiles. If he can't be at home for whatever reason, he will follow Etoiles. Etoiles will be there in an instant if Phil ever needs him. All it takes is one message and Etoiles will be there before it's even sent.

Should Forever find his way back to Phil, Etoiles will make hell on earth to take his best friend back.

Part of the reason Etoiles runs for president is to give Forever a lower chance of winning. If Etoiles won the election, he would find a way to get rid of Forever for good. That's all he wants. He wants the feds, the code and Forever dead and that is all.

He manages to be the only one to question what he's told, the only one that considers Phil to really be a person. Etoiles sees people as people, no matter who they are. This is not something exclusive to Phil, he likes to know people, who they would be if these terrible things had never happened.

He sees something in everyone, it's only more obvious with Phil because his personality has been taken and replaced. Etoiles sees that and takes it as a challenge. He realises that something about Phil is not what people think and he wants to dig deeper. He wants to know, he wants to learn and experience people, the way they really are

Etoiles is the stars and Phil is the moon, do NOT sepearate them!!!!

[nkukubean]

An Interview with Father Lorgan

An emotional moment for Marcio. Finally dropping some backstory for him!

HUGE ACT 3 SPOILERS FOR BALDUR’S GATE 3:

Marcio Leles’s Backstory:

( tw / a small mention of child abuse)

Grew up in Baldur's Gate with his mother & father, his uncles & aunts, and a band of cousins—all of various ages. Always struggling to stay afloat, the adults in Marcio's life were usually away to make ends meet. The eldest cousins would watch the youngest cousins, and eventually, they went out on "scavenge nights"—dumpster diving, pick pocketing, exploring abandoned areas, etc. Without each other, they wouldn't have survived.

As Marcio entered adulthood, he became a sort of guardian for his younger cousins—the one that could get you out of trouble due to his good reputation. But one night, the Flaming Fist took things a bit too far. Marcio walked out to see a guard off his post publicly beating a much younger cousin that had got caught pick pocketing. As a tiefling, this treatment wasn't too unfamiliar to him; however, this was the first time he'd seen it taken out on a child—a family member, no less. Marcio beat the guard within an inch of his life. Pity was taken on Marcio, as the guard was off his post. The acolytes of Ilmater took interest in his actions, offering to keep an eye on him and put him to work for the city within the church. He obliged, knowing he could help his family more within their congregation.

Luckily, he did find his purpose within Ilmater's teachings. He embodies the spirit of “I can fix him” but it’s with almost everyone he meets.

I solidified this backstory right before entering Act 3 so that I would have more solid character motivations. I had no clue there was actually a temple to the Ilmater here. Turns out, The only major temple near Baldur’s Gate for the Ilmater is the Open Hand Temple. He would have been sent here, and he would have been mentored under Father Lorgan, at least for a few years before becoming a full-fledged cleric.

I can’t imagine the kind of silent pain he went through having to Speak with the Dead with his mentor—the mentor he had probably spoken of highly, excited to introduce the party to him. But there’s no time to grieve, Marcio! There’s a doppelgänger in the party! I wonder who it will be!

[a-reformed-heart]

It’s the dawn of a new century… 1900. Your future looks bright and you were going to strive to achieve everything you had always wanted for yourself. You just never expected, with one simple letter, that you’d be pulled back into your past— back to the town, to the people, that you had left so long ago.

Will you find that things have changed since you’ve been away? Or has everything stayed exactly as it was?

Will you find love— the kind you’ve been searching for all these years? Or only heartbreak?

Will you be able to save your families estate? Or were you always meant to lose it?

Return home to Vancairne to help your family settle a dispute that threatens to destroy everything. Will you be doing it out of a genuine wish to help? Because you want to make sure your inheritance stays in tact? Or something else? Only time will tell…

Demo Features

Play as an heir(ess) that needs to protect the land that you haven’t seen in years. Will everything be as you remember?

Customizable MC: name, nickname, appearance, sexuality, and gender (male or female).

Romance 1 of 6 possible options that will hopefully cause a unique experience for you all. Remember! This is a romanced focused IF. (Two ROs are only for F!MCs and two are only for M!MCs.)

Explore the village and estate that you haven’t seen for seven years.

Remember to have fun!

DEMO (TBA)

This story will be rated 18+ for depictions of violence, explicit themes, profanity, alcohol consumption, and blood. This list may grow as the story continues…

NSFW asks will be tagged #nsfw for those that don’t wish to see it…

The Head Guard for the Vancairne Estate; a no nonsense kind of a man that rarely ever lets his guard down. Of course, that’s not how you remember him… You remember him as your best friend with the sunniest smile in the world. Will you be able to chisel away at the ice surrounding his heart? Or will you only make it worse?

Appearance: Charles stands at around 6’5” with forest green eyes and fawn brown hair; that he usually keeps to just over his ears. He has bronze skin that shimmers in the sunlight and a muscular physique from all of his years training.

Restriction: Female MCs Only

Known far and wide as the most beautiful woman within the land. With a heart filled with warmth and a compassionate smile never far from her lips. Whose gaze reminded any that looked upon it of a clear summer’s day… Of course, you knew her as someone else… You knew her as your step-mother.

Appearance: Elizabeth stands at around 5’11” with crystalline blue eyes and platinum blonde hair that falls to the middle of her back in a mixture of soft curls and waves. Her fair skin is unblemished, almost ethereal, and her lithe frame has an athletic tone to it.

Restriction: Female MCs Only

The resident flirt within the town of Vancairne; William isn’t one to let societal norms hold him down. He’s one to let his heart go where it wishes and won’t let anyone tell him otherwise. Quite the free spirit in other terms… Will you be able to give him a reason to stay?

Appearance: William stands at around 5’8” with sparkling hazel eyes and onyx black curls falling across his forehead. Olive toned skin stands out against the outrageous outfits he tends to wear; outfits that only highlight the lean build to his body.

Restriction: Male MCs Only

A quiet individual that tends to gravitate towards the library of the Vancairne Estate. Being the daughter of your fathers closest advisor giving her the privilege to do so. While you wouldn’t quantify her as meek, Ivy has never been one to stand out… Nor has she ever wished to do so. Will you find the woman hidden beneath the shell she has enclosed herself within?

Appearance: Ivy stands at around 5’3” with dark brown eyes and dark brown hair that cascades to her shoulders in a mass of curls. Medium brown skin being accentuated by the pastel colors she tends to favor. Her slender, almost delicate, body showcased within.

Restriction: Male MCs Only

The Lord/Lady that you were destined to marry before you ran off. You never imagined you’d see them again, but things haven’t truly been going your way as of late… Their stoic demeanor isn’t one you can fault them for— not after you had left things— but will you be able to find the golden heart that lays beneath? A heart that you had broken so long ago?

Appearance: They stand at around 6’2” with emerald green eyes and golden blonde hair. Sun kissed skin standing out against the regal clothes that they’re constantly seen in; a far-cry from the ruffled teen you had known so long ago. Their athletic body showcasing a person that refused to let things be done for them. (Victor keeps his hair short and Victoria has hers to her shoulder blades.)

Restriction: N/A

The person that took you in when you had nowhere else to turn to. The one person in the entire world that you know you could count on, no matter what. Will their sunny disposition be what you need to get through the day? Or will they falter by your side as they learn all the things you have kept from them? Will you be able to find love along the way?

Appearance: They stand at around 5’9” with golden brown eyes and onyx black hair. Light brown skin being accentuated by their usual choice of red or blue. A lithe body is due to their years of dancing. (August keeps his to just over his ears and Audrey keeps her hair to just over her shoulders.)

Restriction: N/A

[lemonhemlock]

If you were one of the writers of the show , how will you write Aegon's character? His development, his bond with his dragon, relationship with his children, wife, siblings etc...

Like how he will be from his childhood to his adulthood + how he will be as a king and how he will become after the war...

Like you free to not use Tom's interpretation or Sara+ryan's interpretation if you don't want to.

I'm interested to know how will you write F&B Aegon and i hope you write it in details if you have time because i love reading your ideas.

What a monumental ask, thank you! This character has had such a hold on me; I can feel the potential radiating off this combination of screen + page. I ranted in the past about how I disagree with the choices they made with him, but they did endow him with an exasperating capacity for greatness, a lot of it thanks to TGC's interpretation.

I do think that Aegon could have been one of the most memorable ASOIAF characters and one of the most thrilling explorations of kinghood. I am not referring to people's already-cemented views of him; I am speaking of building the most compelling version of this character possible within the basic narrative of FB, beyond any fandom sectarian lines. Basically, what I'd like to do with these raw materials is to construct a character that people will love, but that they would find very, very uncomfortable, in a prickling-beneath-the-skin type of way.

I am also well aware that this will start to diverge wildly from canon, so don't feel compelled to point that out. I know already. This is going to get very, very self-indulgent since that was the nature of the ask.

Trigger warning for everything. Needless to say, I'm not writing a wholesome script here.

So let's turn him into this generation's Commodus.

This will mostly be imagery and vibes, because I don't have a lot of plot point thought out.

Some of the descriptive tags I use something when referring to green family dynamics are those of #an incestuous autophagous family gradually violating every boundary until every kind of social role leeches into the next #collapsing onto itself in psychosexual neurosis. Sound very pretentious, I know, but it's basically this idea of House Targaryen retreating within its family unit as a result of trauma, but ending in a process of cannibalization. I would have Aegon be the main exponent of this type of breakdown. So I will usually choose the most fucked-up option whenever possible, but I'd focus mostly on innuendo & psychological fuckery, rather than anything more graphic. I mean, this is a TV show, still.

Consequently, one of the readings that I find the most disturbing (and entertaining) is that of Aegon wanting to crawl back inside Alicent's womb, to revert to that pre-birth state in which they weren't separated, they were still one whole and whatever particles of him lived inside Alicent were safe and warm and protected. I am going to link to a few posts I made that describe this type family dynamic (1, 2, 3, 4, 5). This is pretty intense, granted, but imagine if there were a TV show that had the balls to implement this kind of dynamic. I mean, if you can't realise it within ASOIAF-verse, then where?

So I would have Aegon mirror Alicent in the way that she's trying to keep her family together. Aegon craves his family, he wants to feed off of them and wants them to feed off him. He wants them all to collapse into each other back to that original state of being physical parts of Alicent in a far-away time that coincides with Alicent's girlhood. It's often said in meta that Cersei views her children as extensions of herself. I want the opposite for Aegon, our most self-aware, fourth-wall-breaking character: I want him to know that he is an extension of Alicent. This will only become apparent to the viewer later, because we start in a completely different way.

I'd say that this could work very well, because on screen Alicent & Aegon look a lot alike. The casting directions really pulled through here. Alicent seems to communicate often through touch - she will anxiously grab at whomever she's talking to or she will engage in self-soothing gestures. I'd have Aegon inherit that from his mother, that need to physically connect with his family. He'd like them to hug him, but they don't initiate, so he grabs at them to stop them from leaving or just so he could feel them. In one of these scenes, I'd have him look wistfully at her and say some creepy melancholic shit about how they have the same face. "If you were a man, you'd be me." (IF I WERE A MAN, I'D BE JAIME - IF I WERE A WOMAN, I'D BE CERSEI - you get it. We're running with this).

Similarly, I would have Aegon willing & eager to accept violence from his family as an act of love. As long as his mother slaps him, it means that she loves him, it means that she cares, it means that she deigns to touch him. She can do it in public or in court & he won't react other than being weepy. (fans love this anyway, he's never beating the pathetic wet rat allegations) I'd also give Ser Criston the privilege of knocking Aegon about. Heck, the entire Kingsguard (those who did not desert, at least, because it means they are truly loyal to him). I want to toy with the idea of the trappings of kinghood - the king doesn't have absolute powers, he is a prisoner in his own right OR does he just choose to give them up and be pushed about for whatever reason? I want the viewer not to know what Aegon is going to do, whether he will pull rank or whether he will submit.

For Aemond, I've already provided a few links above on how I'd portray their relationship. With Daeron, I'd have him be ecstatic - finally, someone who doesn't look at him with disgust & disappointment! (Mostly because Daeron has been away for a long time and hasn't had time to be disappointed by Aegon, but, oh, well) Finally someone who will withstand his hugs! I'd have Aegon be very caring-big-brother like.

With Helaena, I'd give him a better relationship, because it's just more interesting to me than to have him another awful targhusband. Aegon is not someone who has a lot of patience, but for Helaena, he could channel Alicent sometimes (IF I WERE A WOMAN I'D BE MY MOTHER) and get through to her.

I've already spoken to death on the issue of their children - the most interesting and toxic option for me is if none of them know who fathered them, but they do not care. Sometimes they wonder, but as a curiosity. The children belong to all of them. They are all Alicent's, anyway. She made them all via parthenogenesis. (this is a joke lol). Feel free to disagree with this, I do not care; make your own AU.

I would also age them up, frankly, because it's ridiculous for teenagers to be doing all of these things anyway. I'd have them be in their early twenties - with Alicent maybe around 38? That's still young, before any of you gets their knickers in a twist. So maybe another 10-year time jump after the eye incident.

I've already written a post on what I'd change about Season 1, but I'll add a few more indulgent changes.

I would give baby!Aegon the white hart symbolism just to fuck with Rhaenyra.

I do like Ty Tennant's Aegon and wouldn't change much about him, except give him more things to do. If I could add an extra episode between "We Light The Way" and "The Princess and The Queen", I'd fill it up mostly with interactions between all of the children. Jace, Luke, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond & Daeron. Have them do stuff separately and together. Show more of Aemond being bullied, but also have Aegon rope his siblings into some silly adventure. Show them how to navigate the secret tunnels. Convince them to sneak out into the city. Do something cute with them, so it's not all doom & gloom.

I would portray young Aegon as someone who is naturally talented but doesn't apply himself. That annoying instinctually smart kid that never does his homework but somehow coasts by. Have his peers be annoyed at this and view him as an arrogant twerp. Make him an arrogant twerp, so it's not just an opinion.

One thing that I haven't really seen discussed all that much is the effect Viserys' illness might have on Aegon. He sees the throne cut his father and infect him to such a degree he becomes a walking husk of a man. He thinks, he knows that one day that will be him. If "all goes well", he will have to sit the Iron Throne and become infected and diseased like that. (This is false, but we'll only realise later. The throne will never cut Aegon. It will hurt him in different ways).

His father doesn't care for him anyway, so Aegon subconsciously rejects all this. He needs constant stimulation to take his mind off this gruesome fate. I would give him Prince Hal energy. Mingling with the common people, bawdy, rude, whoring & drinking his liver out. Perhaps by doing all this, he believes he will disqualify himself from the position? Or that no one would be so mad as to place him on the throne. We could have some fun by showing him getting into street fights over the dumbest shit. Just behaving like a general rapscallion. Yes, I would cut the rape and the child fighting rinks. 🤦‍♀️

I would like to develop his relationship with Rhaenyra somehow. When he's older, maybe entertain the idea of him having the same attitude towards Rhaenyra as Aemond has towards him - jealousy, viewing her as depositing all of father's love, despite her not doing anything to "earn" it. In effect, she is being just as irresponsible as he is, only that she's passing her bastards off ahead of him in the line of succession, while he's drinking and whoring. Yet, he is the only one being looked down upon.

I'd make both Aegon and Sunfyre have a soft spot for children in general. It's a surefire way to get the audience on your side. Show him playing with his own children and being goofy with them.

Blood & Cheese is a very good opportunity to delevop deranged! Aegon. Maybe have him torture and kill Blood himself. In the books, he orders every ratcatcher to be hanged. This can go as dark as you like. If you're really feeling lugubrious, he could kill them himself, one by one (???) Show him in his unhinged era, but also show him comforting his sister and mother. I wouldn't be framing him heroically here; he is turning into a villain. I'd show his family a little wary of him, like all this revenge action is getting too much. Aegon looks back at them and doesn't understand why they're being cagey - this is all for their protection and dignity, don't they see?

I have this idea of a scene of him delegating Crown business to Alicent: open court day, she is hearing petitions. Aegon insists that she be the one sitting the throne that day, not Otto. This image of him waltzing into the throne room, splattered in blood from one of his "interrogation" sessions, the whole proceedings stop, everyone bows down to greet him, Alicent starts getting up from the throne, Aegon says there's no need. His mother is the steward of the Crown. He stands there looking on in fascination as she dispenses justice, because it gets his rocks off to see her wield his power. Have him smirking at people as if to say "this is my power trip as well". I'd also include ambiguous cues that would make fans write essays upon essays on the fucked-up implications. So, for example, I'd have people address Alicent as "The Queen", not the Queen Mother or Queen Alicent or the Dowager Queen, while Helaena would be Queen Helaena. No shade to Helaena - I just think it's a lot more messy this way. I'd like to emphasize how she is the boss of them - the King is just there to be a sovereignty-donor.

I would change a lot of things about the military aspect of the war, so to speak. I would make things more even, not give Rhaenyra so many allies because it makes more sense. No ridiculous Lads army and I'd probably render Cregan Stark irrelevant by the time he decides to march down south. I'd also like Aegon to participate in more battles in his own war. So I would not give him Anakin Skywalker-level injuries after Rook's Rest. There's the southern front with the battles of Tumbleton, there's the western front where the Greyjoy fleet is attacking the Lannisters... IDK. I feel like we could give him more to do in this regard. I have this image of him maybe fighting alongside Daeron, getting injured and Daeron enforcing a shield circle around him to get him to safety. Whenever he is injured and bedridden, I'd turn him into a wet-eyed rabbit crying for his mummy. In relation to Aegon, the audience should feel like they want to push him down the stairs, nurse him back to health, then push him down the stairs again.

When he gets smuggled out to Dragonstone, I need him to use all of his car saleman skills and convince the people of Dragonstone to side with him. This should be Aegon at peak politician. Make the commonfolk start believing in his cause. I'd frame him like a cult leader here for shits and giggles. Maybe introduce some comedic moments to lighten the mood a bit. I'd like to parallel injured!Aegon to injured!Sunfyre somehow. Aegon craves affection and so does Sunfyre. Headcanons here and here.

Getting injured by Morning would be the final straw for Aegon. My idea is for Rhaenyra to take Alicent as a hostage when she flees to King's Landing and have Alicent witness Rhaenyra's demise. Have her beg Aegon for mercy, while he remains cold-blooded. This is her son, her baby boy, the one time he decides to disobey her and not heed her advice is when he decides to kill her soulmate. He holds her tenderly while she sobs and fights to get to Sunfyre. (If I were a man, I'd be Aegon).

This is where we can play with crazy, off-his-rocker Aegon. He wants to behead Baela and needs to be calmed down. He oscillated between wanting to kill Aegon III, geld him, send him to the Wall or cut his ear off. He breaks down thinking of his dead brothers. He keeps at Sunfyre's side all times and weeps bitterly as his dragon dies. He is a river of tears and they don't stop flowing. When Sunfyre finally dies, Aegon orders his bones be transported to KL and placed in his chambers.

He takes his mother and goes back to KL where his daughter is. It's time for demented girl dad Aegon! He keeps Jaehaera with him at all times, while dispensing punishments that oscillate between fair and cruel. He has no mercy for the Shepherd's lambs or pretender kings. He is the King. He keeps Jaehaera on his lap, reads to her, plays with her, entertains her child-like trains of thought. Sometimes he asks her how intense should the punishments for traitors be. (I would not make her "simple" in this re-telling, jesus christ).

Alicent advises him to marry her to Aegon III, so as to unite the two rival claims. Aegon refuses. My daughter is the rightful heir / I will not have Rhaenyra's blood dirtying my throne / Andal Law states that a daughter comes before an uncle, isn't that what you taught me all my life?? He knows that this is the best compromise, so as to avoid another future succession crisis, but he just can't bring himself to do it. He pleads with Alicent, tells her he'll sire another boy on Cassandra Baratheon. He'll fix this. Only the best for his sweet little girl. He'll create a proper husband for Jaehaera, just like his mother created the best wife for him with Helaena. Alicent nods and agrees, but doesn't hope that the future will be so simple for them anymore. "Very well, but until that son is born, why don't you betroth them, just in case". Aegon concedes.

Life is not really that great for Aegon at this stage. He is in a lot of pain, prone to bouts of weeping when he remembers his dead family members and dead dragon. He tries to comfort himself thinking of Cassandra and how he plans on claiming another dragon or hatching an egg (he's never been a hatcher, none of them were). That keeps him going for a few more days/weeks. Eventually, he realises that he cannot keep living this half-life, suffocating with this agonizing need for his siblings and dragon. He will tell his mother and daughter that his love for them is enduring and drink the poison himself.

Alicent marries Jaehaera to Aegon in the world's most depressing funerary wedding. They are all she has left - a girl who looks like her children (and her) and a boy who looks like Rhaenyra (rhaenicent reborn!). I would end the story like PRINCESS Shireen said: "two scared children spouting oaths they didn't understand, all that was left of the mighty House Targaryen".

I would end the series with the image of Queen Regent Alicent of House Hightower, hearing petitions, sitting on the Iron Throne, where her son placed her. The throne never cuts her. It hurts her in different ways. She is so young, still. Young forever. The children look like her children.

[witchofthesouls]

AYO! Listen, Cyber!Earth where the old appearance of humans become supernatural, paranormal, and/or creatures of folklore? As well as some examples of the monstronsites upon this new/old/reborn Earth/Gaea.

The world may had decreed that Cybertronians may live on its surface, but whether or not the offworlders, these so-called conquerors and saviors, shall thrive is up to their own actions. The oceans are still water; not a massive source of Energon that the Decepticons had hoped. The atmosphere still exists and far more wild and temperamental: scorching heat, killer humdity, random blizzards, and violent storms. The fauna mimics their old forms, full of vitality and various fuels… and quite toxic and venomous without the proper preparation.

Humans throughout the ages attempted to describe the nature of the planet and its relationship, exploring by alchemical, scientific, religious, and philosophical means. They had coined the phrase: survival of the fittest and it describes well Earth’s demands of resilience to its provided environments. Just they discovered the means to harness deadly wildlife for their own uses: consumption, industry, and medical.

Earth did not hail from Primus. Sleeping and distant and barren after so long. Unable to rejuvenate itself. No. Earth is born from Unicron. The Void sleeps deep within its very essence. Even with a cataclysmic event, it shall continue to roll on (and on and on and-)

It is, however, a reflection. It seen these exhausted wandering souls, strangely foreign and bizarrely familiar, and their longing for home and it recalls blazing Megatronus Prime -its claimed/stolen/Fallen Primordial had done well long, long ago.

Yes, it sings out. Become one with me, astra meo, fallen and lost and now mine.

Prove yourselves.

 < You should have questioned why this planet was teeming with relics of your civilization? Did you truly attribute it as merely coincidence? Did you really think that there was nothing here? Your ignorance will not save you now. >

Chickadee isn’t an outliner; beneath the bone mask, his face is much like a human’s. Soft and plush compared to the Cybertronians’. Seems like real skin and hair. It’s extremely bizarre with the luminous glow of his optics, his pleased smile of sharp, metal denta, and the contrast of that soft face with its marks of moles and freckles with the obvious cabling of his neck. Chickadee has been among the fae with his father for a long while, but he remembers his mortal mother’s face and can’t part away from her dimples and nose.

Humanity is still remembered. Humanity is still loved and feared and coveted and < It is the ouroboros between you and me and us and ours. Are we not perpetual reflections of each other? Grotesque and alluring? Wretched, yet divine? How we wish to cherish and consume the essence of the immortal and the transient? Nothing but green-eyed beasts and ravenous monsters when crossed with temptation? >

It’s hard to say where it began. Is it the nature of the fae? The innterconnectivity of all thing on Earth? The innate social drives of humans that diluted to Others? But-

This is love. Bones and flesh and memory given life by actions. The way a student will curl their letters like their favorite teacher. The passing of family recipes from adult to child across generations. The carryover method to find the best produce by a friend. The mannerisms a child will take from their parents. In the picked-up habits of spontaneous lessons by the neighbor or a random stranger.

This is how the fae love. Dreams and nightmares are upon the spectrum of inspiration and obsession. (They venerate art. And art can be found in anything. Beauty taking a multitude of methods and forms.) Appearances and glamors and behavior for imitation is a form of flattery, is it not? They are shapeshifters at their core. Is it truly a surprise they will take on an old mortal beloved’s form or their face? Their kin, their spouse, their friend’s, the list is endless. 

Cybertronians find it beyond strange and disturbing to find human faces with their bodies made of different materials. Bird cages and tree bark. The deliberate exposure of Clockwork inner-workings of gears and pins and cables. The subtle sounds of chimes and tickticktick and shifting, voluminous robes. A void of shadows with a mask of delicate enamel porcelain with its lovely, ever-changing hues upon its eerily crafted face of humanoid features. One figure appeared out of old paper pages within lost library…

As well as the various sizes. While some take on human’s natural height, many can easily match Optimus or even outsize him, towering above all to reach the sky itself…

Some of their new-blood descendants, their newest claimed hybrids of new metal and that old burning potential, will take on snippets of their forgotten lives. Like half-remembered dreams in a body that is and isn’t theirs. The color of their old skin and eyes. The comfort to be clothed in garments. The search for a certain kind of animal companion. The odd-struck nostalgia of a certain smell or taste and the consuming need to find it because < what are we but the sum of memory and thought? We are wild things at heart, and hearts yearn for such soft, distant dreams of yesterday and tomorrow as well as blood. Does it matter whose? >

The empty sprawl of cities of steel and concrete are timeless spaces. Liminal and haunting with the endless rows of broken and decrepit skyscrapers. Empty with only the plantlife making its fierce strides to compete with the available nutrients and space. Large amounts of Energon crystals are detected from such places…

On the empty roads and bridges to the cities, there are humans watching the distant view and disappear between blinks. Some are hitchhikers. Once or repeated over and over. Grateful for a ride but forgetful on what happened, their family never showed up to the airport/the bus left/they were ditched/the car stopped/so many reasons but not what truly what happened.

The few fae-touched that returned to the Decepticons immediately know  that such places are graveyards and nurseries of < Do you truly wish to know? > unspeakable things.

Parrots aren’t the only species that can mimic sounds and voices. Humans are entertained and enchanted by individuals that do fantastic impressions, mirroring the tones, pitch, and the unique vocal quirks. A lure. A warning. 

The silence is oppressive. No animal ventures into these places. Only ghosts and plants. Branches and brushes reach towards the sky like hands-

Yes. Many hands. Many figures. Small and vaguely humanoid shape of distorted metal decorate the scenery. But there should be more. Far more. Millions upon millions within these cities and where did they go…

The last thing the intial scout teams would remember are the horrifying and nauseating echoes of < WHERE ARE YOU/PLEASE-I-CAN’T/ help-me/help-us / papa-I’m-cold / oh- gods-please-I’ll-pay-anything-anything-ANYTHING / so-hungry / LOOK THERE /YOU / Ÿ̷͚̯̫́̓͠O̸̹͗͠U̷̖̿̊̄ͅ ̵͕̬̯̓D̶͔̙̰͒I̴̧̋̓D̶̐̍͘͜ ̸̤́T̴̟̊H̷͉̽͋̚I̴̳͂͊͗S̵̫̯͕̒̀̍ / c̵͕̱̺̽͝o̸͉̬͛̾̈m̸̧̭̦̑̎͒e̸̞̿̿̆ ̶͕̦͗͒̃h̴͙́e̶̡̺̒͝ͅr̷̢͉̤͑ḛ̴͐>

No matter the weather and climate. These places remain cold. So very cold. A constant wonderland of broken metal, ice, and snow with a miasma of innermost Energon.

Whatever hunts and haunts these places refuse to leave the city boundaries. An amalgamation of numerous limbs, thousands upon thousands of flickering light within its undulating, massive form as it stretches out-

Something splatters nearby it, quivering lanky limbs with an emaciated body, eldritch optics of empty black and a yawning maw for a mouth.

Sparkeater

There are strange diners and sleepy, little towns along the wide stretches of road. Even on scavenged or saved maps, such things didn’t exist. Just pockets of places hidden away and pop up at random.

Waitresses and cooks take no notice of strange customers. Not even batting an eye to Cybertronians that stumbled across them. The Autobots are perturbed to enter an obviously human-made structure that’s manned by human staff, but everything is sized up to Cybertronian height, even the people.

These places serve food. Even Energon. In a multitude of forms beyond the typical cube. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a unique experience to finally taste the fluffiness of pancakes and sweet syrup as well as the dishware and cutlery the children would bring to the base.

Each window has a different view.

The towns are active at night. Lights bright in the dark as people work, rest, and play. Like the diners, no one takes a double-take at the metal visitors, just a glance before going back to their own activities. 

There something beneath these towns where their denizens have shifting eyes and laughing shadows.